


A Twisting Heart And Mind

by FangamerBowiextreme



Category: Labyrinth (1986)
Genre: BDSM, F/M, dubcon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-07-04
Updated: 2020-06-13
Packaged: 2020-07-30 11:51:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 121
Words: 875,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20096803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FangamerBowiextreme/pseuds/FangamerBowiextreme
Summary: While unknown to her, Sarah has succeeded in obtaining the one thing the Goblin King has desired for hundreds of years -power over the Labyrinth. After being hidden for years from his diabolical wrath, Sarah finds herself alone and vulnerable as Jareth's dark desires are finally aloud to rear their ugly heads. As always, the only question is, are things really as they seem?





	1. A King, A Board, And A Pawn

Chapter 1, A King, A Board, And A Pawn

The air was cold and still, emanating a haunting chill over forgotten icy stone. The sensational claws of foreboding were all that ripped through the void deprived of all but shadow and solitude. It was dark, the only visibility being the few precious inches of stone floor revealed by the weakening light of a torch. It flickered and spat, waging war with the seizing hands of creeping shadow. Slowly the light moved, step by step. The only clue as to the passing of time were tessellating creases of stone tiles moving through the clarity of golden light. The room existed within this small boundary, it held mass and reality within the unstable ring of light, and threatened destruction by the engulfing darkness; it was suffocating. It was emptiness. It was nothing. It was eternal. It was everything.

The echo of lonely footsteps layered one another, resonating within hidden walls. Time ticked to the haunting metronome, and came to a halt once they reached their destination in the center of the room. Light from the torch danced over the emerging form of a stone pillar. It was stale and lonely, waiting one eternity after another for the hope of light to breath life back into it. It was plain, revealing nothing significant but a golden saucer atop the plinth. The light flickered white across the saucer, revealing the dark fluid pooled within. All was still until the remnants of echoing footsteps faded back into the abyss.

Slowly, the light descended, touching down into the bowl. It crackled and roared as the flame took hold of the dark liquid, spreading its golden hue. The torch retracted, waiting expectantly as the light in the bowl grew and beamed.

The fire seemed to dance in a magical show of allure and awe as wisps of flame and tendrils of light twisted and twirled their way up into the darkness. They spun and constricted, creating a vine that stretched and burgeoned into an impregnated ball of light. The glow shifted and grew, bubbling into a fiery blossom. Sparks flew from its stem, and escaping waves of fire swayed and twirled like falling leaves.

And then the light started to dim. Soft sparkles drifted and fell back to the saucer, snuffing out as they made contact with the once combusting liquid. The light hardened and took volume while the blossom continued to flourish. When the enchanting moment was over, the rest of the fire dimmed, revealing the golden rose that hovered in its wake. It glowed, and swayed in an non-existent breeze, floating just over the pool of black liquid which rippled and shimmered as remaining sparkles continued to fall.

"No good can come from a King who beacons at such an hour." Came a chilling hiss with snake-like sensuality, echoing through the darkness.

"Must the King's company always equate to notions of foul play?" Answered a voice much darker.

"A King who's company is shared for a price, invariably costs most foul indeed." The voice answered, changing from an ominous echo to something more -feminine. There was a low rumble of laughter from the shadows.

"You know me well." Answered the King most sinister.

"I know your game. After all, I am the board." Said the echo.

As the mysterious voice faded into blackness, the rose started to twitch. The petals of the flourishing bloom began to twist and pull. In a sight almost as magical as the formation of the rose itself, the head of the flower dispersed as it spread into the glorious wings of a flaming butterfly.

The angelic glow fluttered its wings, and slowly glided about the pillar. Its form appeared to lag, making it seem as if there were multiples of itself as it glided from one side to the other. It started to glow brighter, making up for the lack of lighting from the once present fire.

"So what does your company cost me, Goblin King." The voice was distinctly woman now, and sounded vaguely irritated. Jareth's face remained impassive behind the flickering light of his torch.

"You know why I'm here." Jareth said, echoing the weighted darkness around him.

"I get so few visitors...you say you're here to keep me company; and I do so adore the art of pleasant conversation. Please, humor me, My King." Said the voice, presumably emanating from the strange magical butterfly floating in front of Jareth's face. The Goblin King's expression tensed, but revealed nothing else.

"You know what tonight is." His voice was low and rumbling. His eyes watched as the creature fluttered this way and that.

"Tonight is a night, like many others." It responded. Jareth did his best to restrain his irritated sigh.

"You can not keep her from me." His voice was harsh but contained.

"It is my soul obligation to protect her -from _all_ those who may wish her harm." The voice annunciated. Jareth felt his ears give an involuntary twitch.

"You believe_ me_ to wish her harm?" Jareth said, sounding half amused.

"I believe you to be up to no good, Goblin King." The voice was quick to retort. Jareth's lips curled in a toothy sneer.

"But, do you believe me to wish her harm?" His voice was lighter, more pronounced.

"Harm comes in many forms, My Liege." Said the woman-butterfly-fire thing.

"Three years, you've kept her from me. I will wait no longer." He chose to change directions.

"You forget your place, My Lord. You do not command me." The voice grew with considerable intensity. Jareth bit back his anger.

"I am well aware of our -arrangement." He forced his voice to be slow and clipped. "But, you forget yours. She is of age, her will independent. You may no longer bar her from me." Jareth's voice purred with increasing arrogance.

"The Labyrinth will protect its Champion. I will do what is necessary to protect _my_ master." The woman's voice was cold and distant. Jareth bit the inside of his cheek.

"You are still under the impression that she requires protecting. I wish her no harm...quite the opposite in fact." He said, letting his grin show through. The butterfly slowed.

"What is your game, Goblin King." It said after a moment. Jareth's sneer widened.

"I thought you knew?" He asked with sheer mockery.

"Enlighten me." Responded the woman.

"I plan to take her hand." He said, sounding ominously genuine.

"The girl? The girl who made you and your kingdom crumble, the mortal who denied you and all, the child who bested you at your own game?" The voice rambled in disbelief, making sure every description made a heavy blow against the Goblin King. Jareth took a very, very deep breath.

"The woman. The woman who made faithful allies of my subjects, the being that stood as my equal, the only living soul to ever solve my Labyrinth. Who better to rule by my side than my Labyrinth's Champion? Who better deserves the title of becoming the Goblin Queen?" He stated quickly, correcting all of the woman's intended insults. He'd had a hard time swallowing the pride that kept him from admitting such things, and had actually bit the inside of his cheek while saying it, but he'd been preparing for this.

"I smell something foul." The voice muttered. Jareth stifled a laugh.

"All games have their tricks, but I assure you this is my intention. What better way for her to rule you and you to protect her than having her here? At your side as well as my own?" He tried to reason with the insect, struggling to give it an honest smile.

"The fearsome Goblin King holds no grudges over the mortal girl -a child- who beat him to the very thing he's strived for, for hundreds of years?" The magic-flaming-butterfly wasn't falling the Goblin King's charms so easily, seeing the strain he put into his smile. Jareth's brow twitched, and his mouth pressed into a hard line. She was being condescending on purpose...she was trying to unravel him with his own rage. He was smarter than that -it would come in time.

"All the more reason to take her as a faithful ally." Jareth's voice was strong with eons of practiced sincerity. If butterflies had facial expressions, this one would be scowling.

"Her will is strong, stronger than you know. The years have only made her more fierce. Her soul feeds from mine. We are connected. You cannot take her, even with the ward removed. She must come to you willingly, Goblin King." The voice informed, she was starting to come around. After all, the Labyrinth needed to be ruled, and its master needed closer safe-keeping. While It was sure Jareth was certainly up to no good and didn't believe an ounce of sincerity he had put into his words, he had verbally proclaimed to take the girl is his Queen, that alone granted her some level of protection. While Jareth protected her from the world, the Labyrinth would protect her from Jareth.

"She will come." Jareth said, hiding his victory smirk behind the shadows.

"This is a dangerous game you play." Said the voice.

"I know the rules." Jareth's voice bubbled with cynicism. The butterfly continued to float.

"As do I." It responded. Jareth's body tensed in a stance of dominance.

"Then you know you can not interfere." He said. There was a pause.

"I will do what I must. My will is at her behest." The voice was as sharp as a razor's edge. Jareth pushed his snarl inward.

"Her behest is naught. With my command or not you will remove the ward. In this you have no choice." The Goblin King's voice hissed and rumbled. There was a lengthy silence as the two entities regarded one another. The butterfly floated and fluttered, registering the Goblin King's burst of anger and haste. He was determined she do this, she might even go as far as to say desperate even...he was planning something, and she had a sickening inclination as to what. The butterfly continued to brood, realizing that if she were to gain any further knowledge she must allow him to make his move. The next words spoken were with blatant trepidation.

"...Very well. As His Majesty's request, the ward will be lifted upon the hour of her eighteenth year. You are free to look upon and approach the girl." The voice was cold and sterile, regretting the words as soon as they were spoken, but he was right, she had no choice. The Labyrinth's concealing ward ended with Sarah's childhood, and she was by no means a child anymore. The glowing entity fought a strain of worry at the thought, knowing the dark intensions of Its King.

Knowing he had crossed the threshold of victory, Jareth let loose the bindings on his snake-like grin, letting his inner motives play openly across his face from ear to ear in the flickering light. As if It were sensing the dark aura pour out of the deepest, blackest regions of Jareth's brain, the creature spoke up again.

"You may look and touch, but you can not keep. She must come to you of her own free will Goblin King, do well to remember." There was an inaudible sense of worry behind the sternness in the glowing insect's voice. Jareth's smoldering grin settled into a humble curl of the lips and his eyes narrowed on the beguiling figure.

"And you know what will happen once she does concede of her own free will." Jareth's voice was low and ominous.

"Yes." Affirmed the voice. Jareth's brow twitched in haughty amusement.

"Then you know you are powerless." The arrogance in his voice went unmasked.

"My power lies with her. Do not underestimate her again. It will be your second greatest downfall." The voice said, taking another stab at her imperious King's ego. Jareth felt a low heat in his chest, angry that he was being scolded by a butterfly.

The voice of the Labyrinth held its weight in gold. She knew the Goblin King to be selfish and arrogant, and had already assumed his true intentions. He wanted the girl, he wanted the power, he wanted the Labyrinth. Yes, they were playing a dangerous game indeed. The outright demand of the Goblin King spoke volumes to how much protection was needed, not just for Sarah but for the Labyrinth as well. But, he was right. In this instance, she held no power over his or Sarah's actions, and knew she would hold even less after what he was foreboding. But, that was all just a part of the game, raising the stakes. She knew her hand, and unknown to Jareth, knew his hand as well. She'd allow him this victory, allow him to stack his deck and build his bluff -a bluff she would call out all or nothing. There were plans, and there were_ plans_. And the wisdom of the Labyrinth would weave Jareth's against itself, for his own sake, for Sarah's sake, and for most of all, the Labyrinth's sake.

Choosing to shake off the Labyrinth's stinging comment, Jareth instead responded with the joyous ascendancy he wielded far too well.

"I have no where to go but up. And, now that I have your official blessing, I believe that is exactly where I will go." Jareth said, giving a more than necessary and overly exaggerated bow and roll of the hand. Ah, yes, chivalrous gloating at its finest.

"Be wary, My King. Things may not be what they seem." Warned the voice, chirping in while Jareth's head was still descended. He felt the pull of a smirk, and stood before the pillar with easy grace, taking hold of the lapels of his jacket as he responded.

"They rarely are." He said with a tilt of the head and the quirk of a brow. He was happy, more than happy. The spirit of the Labyrinth's attentions narrowed. All the dark frustration and demand was gone. Surely, that wasn't a good sign. Jareth then vanished, both into and away from the darkness, leaving nothing but the echo of his final few words.

In the first few moments of resumed solitude, the golden glowing butterfly continued to flutter through the murky depths of hollow darkness, contemplating the consequences of the gateway she'd just opened. Slowly, the glow started to dim as the creature glided closer and closer towards the golden saucer atop the pillar. With the grace of a wayward feather, it touched down on the liquid, sending sparkling ripples across the surface. As the glow receded, the wings of the butterfly draped and cast over the pool of liquid, both sinking and dissolving into it in a colorful swirl like the rainbow of gasoline mixing with water.

And then the light was gone. The room was blank and endless once more, the sole pillar forgotten, leaving nothing but the haunting notion that the integrity of both their bluffs now rested in the ignorant hands of an eighteen-year-old girl, and could only hope that she'd been lucky enough to be dealt some semblance of a wild card. For her part, maybe then she'd have an inkling of hope towards leveling the playing field. The entity gave an invisible sigh, sending a slight breeze throughout the hollow. Already, the odds weren't looking very promising. The Goblin King rarely lost, only once, only with her. Perhaps that was enough leveling on its own? And in that, the spirit of the Labyrinth found the reprieve it needed to back up the reasoning for the hole it'd just placed Sarah in.

* * *

The iridescent glow of the digital clock loomed silently on the nightstand to the side of Sarah's bed. 11:59 pm. One more minute and she'd be another year older, but she didn't know that. She was fast asleep, curled up under the mass of cotton and comforter she'd cocooned herself in.

It was late May; the weather was at that odd transition between Spring and Summer, meaning bolstering hot days and crisp cold nights. She'd left the window open, letting the cool night air wash out all the humidity and heat the day had baked into her room. She gave an involuntary shiver in her sleep, feeling a sharp, chilling breeze suddenly blow across what little skin that was left exposed to the night air. She murmured, and rolled onto her side. As she settled back into her stupor, her unconscious self was unable to acknowledge that the strong burst of air was not the result of an innocent breeze.

There was a creaking of wood, and a faint scratching sound, breeching the calm tranquility of the night. Sleek talons clawed onto the windowsill, bracing as powerful wings flapped to an abrupt halt, sending the surge of air that had breezed over Sarah.

There was a pitter patter as a large white and golden owl shuffled along the windowsill. It leaned across the threshold, ruffling its feathers as it did so. It soon fell quiet, and the alien bird tilted its head, observing everything from a perpendicular angle.

The owl's large black eyes scanned over its new surroundings. A blue and silver haze blotched itself between roaming shadows. Normally, he wouldn't be able to see much from the shadows, but his owl-vision allowed him to see clearly in the darkness. Everything seemed so familiar, yet the room held a strange unwelcomeness reminiscent of a land yet to be discovered. In that theory, it was true. He'd never been in Sarah's room before, only watched from a nearby tree. Yes, it did seem familiar. He recognized the white post bed and matching dressers and shelves. He even recognized the orange and green tacky wallpaper and her poster of M.C. Escher's staircase hanging on the wall. He didn't know if it was a smile or a grimace he felt threatening to break the cold expression of his inner self. What he didn't recognize and immediately noticed was the clutter free organization and absence of all her toys and stuffed animals. Gone were her dolls and teddy bears and boardgames, replaced with rather highly sophisticated books, DVD's, pictures of friends, random memoirs and assorted electronics. The walls were decked with posters of presumably popular musicians and classic to modern plays. Aside from those few accessories, her room was bare, the only scatter being the sprawl of textbooks and notepads open on a work desk. As he looked around, he saw the only other light was coming from a clock on a bedside table. 12:00 am.

As the owl examined the now other worldly room, he couldn't shake the low wave of unsettledness that came with it. His head returned to its upright position once his gaze fell over the mound of blankets atop the twin bed. His keen eyesight did little to reveal the form beneath, she was covered in blankets with her head turned away from him. All he could see was the cascading mass of her midnight hair falling over her pale blue comforter. He felt a flare of excitement and swooped into the room, sending another gust of air, and causing tendrils of Sarah's hair to go up in gentle wisps.

Sarah shivered again, rolling in the opposite direction. The blanket fell down her shoulder, and she frowned in her sleep, continuing to fidget under the absent blanket.

After a whimsical twirl of feather and fabric, Jareth stood before the bed in all his sparkling glory. He was wearing an outfit similar to that of his last moments with Sarah three years ago -white pants, white shirt with a feathery cape, less dramatic this time of course- a result of just shifting from his owl form. His entrance held its usual grandeur, though he minded not to wake her. She was facing him now, thick waves of hair blocking out her face. His heart was pounding, he'd left the heart of the Labyrinth and the Underground so fast -all the anxiety of the past three years was culminating to this moment. Oh, there were so many things he wanted to do. Should he wake her? Have his wicked way then and now? Or wait and draw out her agony? Should he leave her sleeping, and rip her from her fantasies and throw her into her nightmares? There were countless paths to follow from one end of the spectrum to the other. So many things he wanted to do. So many things he was going to do. And as he stood, giddy as can be, he realized just how excited he was and, rather reluctantly, pulled the reigns on his whirling mind. _Gods, calm down! Soon, you'll have all of eternity to taunt and torment the poor girl. Savor this moment, this peace, after all it may very well be her last_. _Besides, you're here on business, remember!_ He felt an inner smile at the resolution. Taunt and torment, yes two of his favorite past times. He'd had fun toying with her back then, but she was a woman now, and that meant a whole new kind of_ taunt_ and _torment. _After a moment, he took a breath, quelling his frantic burst of excitement.

While keeping his attention on Sarah, Jareth peered around the room once more. It was far darker without his night-vision. He couldn't get over how different everything was. He was expecting...what was he expecting? Toys and boardgames? No, surely not for a girl her age. But for some reason, the absence of the things that labeled her childhood left something uncanny within the depths of his thoughts. But, that was precisely the reason he was here. She wasn't a child anymore, so this should come as no surprise. What was he expecting again?

Once his eyes lazily made their way back to his sleeping beauty, he felt a flare of unbridled curiosity and knelt down on one knee and leaned over the bed. He waved a gloved hand above her, sending a pulse of magic through her in-order to insure she would not wake. He then cocked his head to one side and focused his gaze on her muffled features. Unsatisfied, he brought a hand to her forehead and swept away the layers of raven colored hair.

Jareth's eyes narrowed, and he felt a disturbing emptiness as he gazed upon Sarah for the first time in three long years. She had aged, very much so. Her face was longer, more angled, any trace of baby fat long gone. Long and feathered lashes splayed along her cheeks and her cranberry lips parted only slightly as she took one shallow breath after another. The soft moonlight cast a glimmer over her hair and a luminous hum over her pale skin. She was striking. Again, the uncanny feeling returned, causing his brow to furrow. Why was he so caught off guard by this? Of course she looked older, she was older. Was he really expecting the same fifteen-year-old brat from so long ago? An inner part of him grumbled, knowing the answer was yes. He chided his own foolishness.

Sarah shuffled her shoulder up into her cheek in her sleep, effectively drawing the brooding Goblin King from his curious contemplations. Jareth's eyes narrowed on her bare shoulder and reflexively drew the blanket up and over, ridding himself of any further distractions. He'd waited three years for this, since the very moment he'd realized the full extent of Sarah's victory. He'd been kept away for so long, barred from looking at her, even knowing where she was. He felt powerless. It drove him mad. And now she was here, so close to being his. He needed to keep focus. He'd reap the fruit of his spoils soon enough, and the fact that the very sight of her pale and exposed shoulder was labeled a distraction confirmed his need for stronger discipline. No matter the games they played, no matter the part she played in them, he needed to stay above it. No matter how much this was about Sarah, this wasn't about Sarah. He'd told himself this mantra over and over, now realizing his very words held little to no hold over him. He became angry with the realization, blaming her for his own petty coveting.

And as if that was the tear that had reopened a long forgotten wound, Jareth's thoughts started to fester. The way she lay so peacefully, enjoying the serenity of sleep, relishing in her picturesque human life, while he endured night after night of turmoil and frustration. Every day he thought of her, her image rose and fell with the sun. Everything. Everything about her -from the prize she'd stollen from him to the wanton feel of her would-be caress. He wanted to ravage her in every possible sense of the word. Could she say the same? While he highly doubted it, frankly he just didn't know. And he realized in that instant that, that was what griped him so much. Three years with nothing. He had no idea how she had grown and changed. No idea of her thoughts and dreams. Perhaps it was this inability to act that drove him so. The need for such information infuriated him. Why did he care? It certainly didn't matter. He glared at the complacent expression that donned her hauntingly beguiling face, and another strain of anger wormed its way through. _She really has no idea what she is, does she? All these years..and she's just a normal adolescent. She has no idea of the power she wields, power that should belong to me. Does she even remember the Underground?_ For some reason, his mind's eye now perceived Sarah's numbing expression as irritatingly smug. Jareth's thoughts started a vicious rampage of ill-thought out assumptions, disgusted with questions he'd never thought to ask. Soon, he found himself snarling at the immobile starlet in front of him. Why was he so angry with her? She was sleeping, doing nothing ill or vein in the slightest, the exact opposite in fact. Was that it? Was he spiteful of her peacefulness? Again, the voice in the back of his mind rang through -_What were you expecting? _He forced back any further anger by grinding his teeth. _It doesn't matter. She will fit my plan regardless. I will make her remember, I will make her forget. She will give me what I want. And then, what ever's left will be mine for the taking as well._ His thoughts snarled.

It was then that he decided on a course of action, the question of her thoughts and dreams coming back to him. He brought a hand to her temple, and ran the backs of his fingers down the side of her face. His eyes narrowed, and he succeeded in hiding the ghostly smile creeping along his face. A part of him chastised his actions, for allowing himself to give in -to spite of all things. He knew it was childish, he was better than that, always keeping his emotions reserved and in check, but right now he just didn't care. The sight of Sarah's metaphoric halo brought a wave of unexplained resentment and unhindered irritation to the forefront of his mind. Yes, he'd weave his way into her mind, crawl under her skin and shatter her nerves -see how she really felt, learn what she really remembered and undoubtedly use such information to his advantage. Soon, he would know Sarah's dreams, he would know her nightmares. He reveled in the power he held to decide which he would grant her. And then a more delicious thought came to mind. _...maybe I'll be generous, and give her something...more._ The glint of his sharp teeth shone like a predator's fangs in the pale moonlight. In the next moment he was gone, leaving nothing but the faint echo of his laughter to wash over Sarah as she started to toss and turn.

  



	2. A King, A Board, And A Pawn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While unbeknown to her, Sarah has succeeded in obtaining the one thing the Goblin King has desired for hundreds of years -power over the Labyrinth. After being hidden for years from his diabolical wrath, Sarah finds herself alone and vulnerable as Jareth's dark desires are finally aloud to rear their ugly heads. As always, the only question is, are things really as they seem?

Chapter 2, Dreamweaver

The air was crisp and shimmered with the white light of early morning. The wind blew with a shallow and easy grace, carrying a chill that frosted over the land creating a petrified phantasm of mist and glistening blades of grass.

Sarah shifted in her sleep and began to stir. Something felt...odd. She was cold and warm at the same time. She felt moisture on her skin, a kind of uncomfortable humidity that made her shiver instead of sweat. She scrunched her shoulders and curled into herself, encompassing her biceps with splayed fingers. She took a sharp breath and shuddered, feeling an icy chill flush her fingertips. Why was it so cold? She wriggled her brow and frowned, resisting the impulse to open her eyes.

She felt and heard something crunch beneath her and drew a confused brow, giving in to the pull of consciousness and opening her eyes.

Sarah's lashes fluttered as she brought focus into her weary eyes. She saw...green? Lots and lots of green. She scowled and leaned up on an elbow, placing the other hand flat palm on the ground and then quickly drew it away. It was cold and wet. The sensation caught her off guard, sending a small rush of adrenaline to further rouse her woozy mind. She brought her hand close to her face and examined it. The pale skin of her palm was glistening and dark blotches splattered her sleeve. She scowled one last time before bringing her gaze out and around to scan over her surroundings. _I'm outside? Why am I outside? _She wondered, shifting over brittle blades of grass.

She brought a hand to the side of her head and frowned. _How did I get out here? Why is everything so hazy? _She looked around once more, slowly recognizing the landmarks scattered around her. She saw a river...and a bridge...great stone pillars that dotted the water's edge. _I'm in the park?_ She thought, bemused.

"What was I doing here again?" She wondered allowed, glancing down to the ground as she spoke. It was then that her brow drew once more. "What am I wearing?" She asked the world, stammering to her feet.

Sarah plucked at the skirt of her dress with confused distaste. It was all white, with wide lace trim along the cuffs and neckline and hung off the shoulders in a gentle V. Before giving herself the chance to ponder her apparel, she ran a hand from her shoulder, down her waist and over the skirt of the dress, brushing away broken blades of grass. She shook her head and made a *guck* sound in the back of her throat. She was soaked. How long had she been out here?

While swatting away loose grass and grime, Sarah spotted something out of the corner of her eye. She glanced to the side and saw a small stack of papers fluttering in the breeze. She knelt down and picked it up, examining the text most thoroughly.

_~"A Lover's Ploy"_

_an adaptation of "Acontius and Cyddipe"_

_Act 1~_

Sarah scratched her head as she skimmed through the pages.

"Hmm...I must have been rehearsing..." She said with uncertainty, glancing around the park once more.

The sky was clouded and bland, casting a gray haze over the landscape. There was a soft mist hovering over the grass, and glistening beads of dew twinkled from the trees. _What time is it?_ She winced.

As Sarah contemplated just how in the hell she had gotten there, she was distracted by a distinctive and unfamiliar noise -a pulse. It was faint at first, but was quickly growing in volume. She felt the tremble of creaking grass beneath her feet as the low bass coursed in steady waves through the ground. She looked up, following the direction her ears had pointed her in. She saw the forest, and focused her eyes on the darkening tree-line.

As if waiting just for her, a warm glow illuminated from behind the trees. Sarah's back stiffened, and she watched as the small ball of light was joined by many, many others. The pulsing tone was slowly creeping its way around Sarah's brain, while the entrancing light stole her gaze. Sarah stood, stupefied, staring at the riot blooming from within the trees. As the pulse thumped and thumped, it was soon joined by an echo of laughter. Slowly, eerily so, layer after layer of insidious laugher started to flood Sarah's ears. The sound bewitching her, pulling her in.

She took a step and paused, her trance being broken by the sudden flicker of the glowing orbs. She felt a chill run down her spine, but it wasn't from the cold. The lights...they were like eyes -watching her...hungry.

Suddenly, she felt a warmth in her chest and and uncontrollable compulsion to take another step -and another, and another and another - until she found herself watching like a specter as her mindless body trudged deeper and deeper into the forest.

The farther Sarah walked, the less hold the compulsion had over her. Her mind creeped its way back to her body as she felt the alien influence being replaced by her own desire. Curiosity bloomed in Sarah as the floating balls of light refined into definite shapes and the riotous echoing split into distinctive and coherent voices. She realized the flicker was being caused by moving shadows, beings that were passing in front of the light. She reached out, and peeled back obstructing tree branches and bushes, stepping further and further towards the epicenter of the sound.

"There you are!" Came a loud and scolding shriek, utterly shattering all of Sarah's mystified stupor. Sarah jumped half way to heaven, whirling around to face the startling voice. She gasped, and in an instant her eyes plunged back into her head.

"Becky?" Sarah exclaimed with both relief and exasperation. She buckled over slightly, drawing a hand to her chest. "Jesus, you scared the crap out of me. What are you doing here?" She asked.

"Looking for you. What do you think? Where have you been?" The girl asked. Her tone was blatantly condescending. Sarah's eyes narrowed and her head twitched.

"What? What are you talking about...what the hell are you wearing?" Sarah asked, bewildered, and eyeing her friend up and down.

Becky stood, hands on hips, scowling at Sarah, and apparently not very appreciative of her tone. She was tall and thin, with a pointy nose and lush golden hair, hair that was now hidden by her both overly-bland and over-the-top costume. Sarah's eyes roamed from her white and gray, toe length gown, all the way to the boxy-looking veil that framed her disgruntled looking face. She looked...strange, like a nun, or an old-style nurse. Sarah cocked her head to one side, having hit a small revelation.

"Wait...were you rehearsing too?" Sarah asked, pointing a finger at the drab piece of fabric that hung from Becky's frame. Becky crinkled her nose.

"Now, that is enough young lady!" She exclaimed, swatting away Sarah's accusatory finger. "You know very well what I am wearing! Now, do come along. Your absence has already been noted." Sarah open mouth gawked at the more than odd behavior of her friend. Ok, so Becky was playing the role of the nurse in the school play but she'd never taken rehearsal this seriously. Hell, she'd never uttered a single line outside of play practice. Where did she even get that costume?

Sarah found herself fighting the urge to break down and giggle. That costume, and those words coming out of Becky's mouth -it was like trying to hammer a square into a circular hole. Bright blue eyes, a California tan way eastward of California, and the adorable sprinkle of freckles across the nose could hardly be paired with a medieval uniform of chastity and an eloquent tongue.

"Wow, um..alright then." Sarah said between muffled giggles. If she was going to take her role seriously, then good for her. Sarah found amusement in playing along. Becky huffed and stomped away, beaconing Sarah to follow.

Sarah scampered up to walk alongside Becky-er her nurse rather, snickering along the way. It was so unlike Becky to actually enact a role, always chastising Sarah for _"playing dress up and getting lost in fantasy land"_. She'd purposefully gone for lesser roles for that very reason, while Sarah aspired to nothing less than the forefront of the stage. While Becky was cast the nurse, Sarah had been given the lead of Cyddipe in her school's upcoming play, based on the Greek love story of Acontius and Cyddipe. Maybe they were doing some kind of outdoor dress rehearsal? But why was she sleeping? Why couldn't she remember? For some reason, the need for the answer to those questions didn't seem very urgent.

"Where are we going?" Sarah asked, peering through bushes and vines. Becky gruffed and pushed on through, silently scolding as if offended by Sarah's question.

Sarah pouted in sated amusement as she followed her friend through the brush and into a small clearing. She looked up and all around. The lights she'd seen, they were lanterns, dozens of paper lanterns lining the rim of the small clearing. She had to narrow her eyes into the shadows too make out the cloth canopy hanging from nearby trees, shielding the area. _Wait, when did it get dark out? _Sarah was baffled, looking all around and realizing it was now pitch black out. The light from the lanterns glowed even brighter.

Looking over Becky's shoulder, Sarah spied what looked to be some kind of party going on in the center of the clearing. There was a large stone fire pit surrounded by exceptionally long and heavy looking banquet tables on three sides. There were people there, eating and laughing. There were tall poles and pillars, donned with wild decorations of vines and colorful flowers. There were tables to the far left wielding impressively burgeoned barrels. There were clusters of people gathered around, filling their gauntlets with a dark liquid spurting from the barrels. To the right, in the absence of a fourth table, there were stone steps leading up to an alter. There was an impressive statue of a woman standing about twelve feet high behind it. Sarah cocked her head to one side. _Are these the props for the play?_ She wondered.

Before she could gape any further, Sarah was brought to an abrupt halt once Becky had led them to an empty bench close to the magnificent alter. Still dazed and confused, she complacently took a seat beside Becky, resuming to scan over the area.

She hadn't realized it before, but there was a significant amount of space between the tables and the fire pit, enough so that a mass of cloaked figures had taken it as a dance floor. It was only then that she registered the sound of music, a haunting melody of strings and drums. She looked around, but could see no band. Giving up on finding the musicians in question, her eyes roamed from the group of merrymakers to the platters and bowls of food lining down the table._ Gah, where did all this come from? Who are all these people?_ She thought.

"Becky? Who are all these people? I don't think I recognize any of them." Sarah asked, reluctantly taking her gaze from the lustrous dancers.

"Why the townsfolk, who else? And of course you don't recognize them, they're all wearing masks." Becky answered. Sarah narrowed her eyes at her "nurse". They weren't wearing masks...were they?

Sarah's head darted back towards the crowd. _No...definitely not wearing masks...why would she say that? _Sarah's mind grew more and more suspicious. _This is all so...strange. What is going on? I thought this was a greek play? Why are people wearing masks and hanging Maypoles? What are we even doing out here? No, this is wrong._

Just when Sarah's mind was on the verge of breaching some epic dam of truth and realizations, something bright and red came bounding in front of her face.

Both Sarah and Becky jumped as a bright red apple flew from out of no where and bounced off the surface of the table. Sarah's eyes widened fractionally as she watched the shiny red fruit roll to a creaking halt before them. Sarah was lost in the wisps of light that reflected across the deep red skin the fruit, before a hand reached out and plucked it from her line of view.

Sarah's eyes followed the apple, watching intently as Becky examined it. She watched Becky's eyes narrow, and her mouth murmur as if she were struggling to read something.

"What is it?" Sarah asked, her eyes locked on Becky's face. Becky shook her head and frowned.

"It says something...there's something carved into it." She said, turning the ripe fruit in her hands. Sarah's glare intensified.

"Let me see." Sarah demanded, holding out a hand as Becky turned and offered it to her. Sarah clutched the the apple close to her face, turning it from left to right as her eyes viciously scanned over the scripture. "I swear by the temple of Artemis that I shall marry -" Sarah's breath caught in her throat, crushed under the weight of the rock she'd just choked down. "Jareth?" She muttered, drawing her brow tighter than it had ever been. Sarah shook her head frantically, lowering her hand to the table. "What? That's not right...it's supposed to say Acontius..." Her body tensed, and a wave of anxiety and worry crushed into her. "Becky, what's going on? What is this?" She asked, glancing over to her friend with worried eyes.

A second later, Sarah's eyes shot out in horror and she fell back in her seat, flailing off of the bench.

"What the fuck!" Sarah screamed, gaping frantically at the thing that was once Becky.

* * *

When Sarah's eyes locked onto her friend, she hardly expected the site that met her in return. There was a woman, it was Becky, but it wasn't. Her face...it was worn and wrinkled and had turned a rustic brown. Her features were exaggerated and drooped. Her body was hunched and she had a wretched sneer etched across her face. This thing, it wasn't Becky, it wasn't even human. If Sarah didn't know any better she would have said it was a...

"My Sarah, what's wrong?" Asked Becky. No, it sounded like Becky, but it wasn't -it wasn't Becky. Sarah jumped to her feet in a stance of fight or flight.

"What are you? What the fuck is going on?" Sarah roared, pointing a terrified and enraged finger at the creature before her. The woman laughed.

"Hehe...Come come Sarah, you know me." She said. Sarah gave an involuntary shudder. Her voice...it was different -was laced with something dark...that voice...she'd heard it before.

"What are you?" Sarah demanded again, fisting her nails into the hard flesh of the apple. The creature gave a malicious laugh and started to rise from the table.

In a fit of panic, Sarah rose her arm in preparation to throw the apple at her possible assailant. Instead, she trembled and gaped as she realized she was no longer digging her fingers into an apple but a festered and rotting peach. Her nostrils flared as she registered the rotting fruit dripping down her hand, and in a fit of rage, wound her arm back and whipped it with all her might.

"Stay away from me!" She screamed, turning on a dime and darting into the crowd.

Sarah's senses were in immediate overload. She pushed and flailed her way through the crowd, darting her eyes frantically for any trace of harm or hope. Then, she felt herself slow, hindered by the crowded mass of people. She wriggled and clawed. Her pounding heart and rush of adrenaline were starting to inhibit her ability to process thought and action. She drew her arms into herself as she realized the reason she was struggling to move was because she was being groped and pulled by an onslaught of spectral hands. She clenched her eyes and fought, only opening them once she felt the space start to enclose around her.

Sarah's fear stricken face drained of color as she peered up to her aggressors. There were lines on their faces, tracing around the outer contours. She froze momentarily in shocked horror as one man in particular reached up and splayed a palm across his face. With seemingly no effort at all, the man withdrew his hand, and along with it came his face -a mask. The creature that stared back was the same as Becky -wretched mangled features, and bloodcurdling sneer. It smiled, revealing broken and jagged teeth. Sarah screamed, and instantly went for the kill as she fought her way out of the crowd. Sickening laughter spurred around her, as more and more hands rose to pull apart their mortal masks. Sarah's face flushed with a surge of a million different emotions. _WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING?_

Before she could act, a hand clamped around her wrist and pulled her into a more than uncomfortable embrace. In the next second, she found herself twirling, being thrashed and thrown from one dancer to the next. She practically flew to the beat of the music, which was only matched by the pounding of her heart. Somehow, through all the spinning panic, a thought rang through. _This seems so...familiar. Like the...like the -ballroom?_ The connection made her want to vomit. _No._

The world was spinning, faces, lights, laughter. No matter her panic, she couldn't stop it, holding no control over the inertia put upon her by the force of the dance. On and on this went. What did they want?

As if taking pity on Sarah's torment, the dance came to a screeching halt. The afflicted beings ceased their advances and stood like eerie grinning statues. Sarah's eyes darted round and round until falling back into their proper place. She pulled away and darted through the crowd, not waiting for or wanting and explanation. The creatures merely stood and stared, allowing Sarah an easy escape. She stumbled out of the crowd and stole one last look. They were watching her. All of them, not just the people from the dance floor. So may faces...

The only sound in Sarah's ears was the pounding her heart and the panting of her breath. She staggered in her dress, pulling it up to her knees and running into the forest. She dashed past trees and leaped over roots and vines. She could still hear them, everywhere. She tried her best to stare straight ahead, but she could see racing shadows and dancing silhouettes from the corner of her eyes. They were following her.

It was then that Sarah remembered something, she ran track. Quickly, she pulled her dress up and managed to rip through the thin fabric, effectively cutting it short at mid-thigh. She then dipped her head and squared her shoulders, plowing the ball of her foot hard into the ground in a perfect take off. She jolted forward, picking up the pace exponentially. She scrapped through branches and twigs, but didn't stop. She could see the tree-line. She was almost there. She didn't know what would happen once she got there, but right now, her only goal was escaping the shrouding forest.

Laughter rang louder and louder in Sarah's ears the closer she approached the end of the forest. She could see the field, the river, the bridge. She would just keep running, all the way home. Tragically, it was this thought and observation that distracted her from the knotted root that had sprung free from the Earth, and as she bounded, her foot caught underneath it.

Sarah tripped, and went flying through the air. She closed her eyes and braced for impact, curling her limbs into a tuck and roll. Time seemed to stop as she flew through the air, and she could only wait anxiously behind closed eyelids.

* * *

Sarah hit the ground with a thud, skidding and rolling into the soft grass. Wasting no time, she dug her hands into the ground and reared her legs for another take off, but only succeeded in falling flat on her face. There was a sharp jab in her knee, most likely due from her rough landing. She quickly turned around and backpedaled on her hands and knees, staring at the dark forest with residual panic.

And then she stopped, frozen in place as the world came into view. She was in the field, in the park. But it was different. The grass was warm and dry, the sun shone high over head and there wasn't a single cloud in the sky. Her head thrashed from side to side loosing her sanity from all the sheer insanity of what was happening. Where were the Goblins? Monsters? People? Things? She glared into the forest, it was still partially shrouded in shadow. She gave a small sigh. They were gone.

Allowing her a second or two for her heart to settle, Sarah leaned back on her elbows, still healthily aware that something very very strange was going on. She leaned forward, examining the cause of the sharp pain in her leg. Her legs and hands were smeared with dirt and grass. She wiped it away to reveal the already purple bruise claiming her knee. She winced and panted as she tried to extend it.

"Excuse me, are you alright, Miss?" Came yet another unexpected voice. Sarah jumped and scrambled back before glaring up at the man who had just spoken to her. Her eyes were wide and frantic, and her heart beat hard against her chest. He stood tall over her, the light from the sun darkening out his face. She didn't respond.

The mysterious stranger tilted his head and frowned at her silence. He then crouched down on the balls of his feet, and rested his forearms on his knees. Sarah shuffled a little more.

"Miss, are you hurt? Did something happen to you?" He asked, sounding genuine and sincere. Sarah's heart started to quell, but her eyes continued to beam. He was closer to her now. She could see his eyes. Bright blue.

"I-I-I-uhh." Sarah stumbled over her own tongue, not yet recovering the basic motor skills required to speak. The man's frown deepened.

"What happened?" He asked. His voice was both appeasing and demanding. The mysterious stranger's question struck Sarah hard, sending replay after replay of everything that had just happened through her mind. It'd all been so fast...yet it felt like an eternity. Her chest started to heave, and she couldn't control her breathing. She was having a panic attack.

"I-I- I don't know." She said with a gasp. Seeing the girl's distress, the man quickly leaned forward and drew her up into his arms. He wrapped an arm around her back and gently stroked her hair.

"Hey, hey. It's ok, you're safe now." The man cooed. Sarah's eyes darted frantically, questioning why she felt suddenly at ease in this stranger's arms. She tightened her hands around the neck of his jacket and nuzzled into his hair. It was long...and smelled of the sun.

"I don't understand...what's going on?" She asked, as if this random stranger might know. There was a pause. While innocent enough, it sent a string if suspicion through Sarah's mind and she tensed her grip around him.

"It's alright. It's all over now." The man said after a moment, patting her back. "Do you need to go somewhere? A hospital? Home?" He continued. Sarah shook her head in the nook of his neck.

"No, thank you. I can manage." She said, trying to pull away from his grasp. The man's arms tightened and there was a pause. The silence between them held volumes.

"Are you sure?" He asked, quirking an octave on the last word. Something in Sarah snapped, and she froze. There was a distinct rumble and hiss to his voice. No, this wasn't right. Without response, Sarah pushed hard against the man's chest, flailing to break his hold on her but with no avail. He was like a statue.

"Please, let me go. I'm fine." She pleaded through clenched teeth. She could sense his smile as he rested his chin on the top of her head.

"You look to be in distress, please, allow me to help you." He replied, ceasing his gentle petting to wind a hand at the nape of her neck.

"I don't need help! Let me go!" Sarah screamed, squirming uselessly in the man's vice-like grasp.

"You're clearly upset. I think I know a way to help you relax." He said, using the hand fisted in her hair to hold her straight as he pushed her into the ground. Sarah exploded.

"No! Stop! Get the fuck off of me!" Sarah screamed bloody murder, kicking and flailing all she was worth. The man loomed over her, his long blonde hair brushing across her face and chest.

He took hold her hands, and pinned them on either side of her head, sneering down at her catatonic form. He then rose her arms and took hold of her wrists above her head with one hand, freeing the other to wrap around the corner of her jaw. His fingers tightened and he pushed her face upwards, exposing her throat as his lips latched onto it, hard. Sarah screamed, and her lower lip quivered. _No. This isn't happening. This is a dream. It isn't real._

"Oh Sarah, this is as real as it needs to be." The man purred, responding to her unspoken thoughts as he quite literally bit his way down her collar bone. _What? What the fuck? _She screamed inside.

"How do you know my name? Who are you!" She screamed, trying and failing to move her wounded neck out of his reach. The man stopped, rearing over her slightly and laughing as he ran his hand from her neck down and over her breast.

"Come come, Sarah, you know me." The man said with malicious amusement.

Sarah froze in her struggling, slowly turning her head to meet the heated gaze of her attacker. His words struck her, hard. Why didn't she realize this sooner? She beamed for what felt like an eon, slowly refining all her scattered thoughts. He had long, feathered blonde hair and stone etched features. His lips were curled in a predatory sneer, revealing sharp and angled teeth. But, the thing that truly caught Sarah's gaze were his eyes. So blue, so fierce. One pupil fully dilated, the empty blackness boring into her. Yes, she knew those eyes. It was him. Of course it was him. Why didn't she know until just now?

"Jareth-" She breathed, unwilling to believe she'd actually said it. Jareth smiled and lowered his head to hers, claiming her lips in a strong yet surprisingly sensual kiss. He hummed when she didn't fight him off.

"Sarah." He murmured against her dumbstruck lips with a smile.

Sarah fell limp, completely blown away with shock. She didn't fight him, her mind simply couldn't handle it. Everything that had happened, she was in mental overload and needed a minute or two to reboot.

"What-what are you doing here? What's going on?" She asked, non-responsive to the hot trail of bite-like kisses Jareth had started weaving down her neck.

"This is your dream. Perhaps I'm the one who should be asking you." Jareth murmured into the hollow of her neck. Sarah stared straight at the sky, searching the heavens for the ability to react.

"This is my dream. I don't want you to rape me." She said, rather monotone. If this really was a dream, then this wasn't real, and then at least all the crazy shit that had happened now made sense...sort of. Jareth shifted his body into her, groping at her side as his lips neared her bust line.

"Yes, this is your dream. Which means you want me here, doing this..." His voice trailed off as he dipped his tongue under the hem of her dress. "You want this, Sarah." He whispered with seductive arrogance. Sarah shook her head.

"No. No, I don't. This isn't a dream. This is a nightmare." Sarah stammered, pushing against him, knowing it was futile. Jareth smiled into her bosom, bringing his free hand to push her breast up to him as he bit down on the rounded flesh exposed by the straining hem of her dress.

"We're inside your mind, Sarah. And we both know you're lying. You dream of this, dream of me touching you like this." Jareth said, grinding his hips into hers. Sarah gave an involuntary groan.

He was right. She did dream of this -often. Only this time...something was different. It felt...odd and twisted...darker...more real. She felt unsettled and she didn't know why. No, not this time. She didn't want this.

Jareth loosened his grip on her hands at the sound of her reluctant moan. Mmm, this was going so much more smoothly than he'd thought. Sensing the tension leave her wrists, Sarah ripped them free of his grasp and clawed her hands around his neck. Jareth was taken back by her sudden movement, and reflexively went on the offensive, clamping his hands around her forearms. Sarah's gaze burned into him, and she used the grip he had on her arms to pull him down.

Jareth's eyes scanned Sarah's, trying to decipher the enraged look in her eye and felt a heat rise when he realized it was something else entirely. Cautiously, he released Sarah's arms and allowed them to finish clawing into his hair. Spurred on by Sarah's surprising fervor, Jareth wound his hands under her shoulders, pulling her up her him as he ravaged her mouth with his own. He growled into Sarah's lips as she opened up for him and viciously bit down on his. He held her to him with enough force to make her gasp, but allowed her no reprieve as he savagely twirled his tongue with hers, engulfing all her muffled moans.

Sarah's hands dug into the mass of Jareth's unruly hair, pressing his face hard to hers and scraping her teeth against his. She drew a leg up the length of Jareth's and hooked it over his hip as he ground himself against her.

The immediate escalation of their situation was no less than a complete surprise to Jareth. He didn't know what he was expecting to happen once he reached this part of Sarah's dream, but things couldn't have turned out better. _She's so willing, so hungry. Gods, this is going to be so easy._ He reveled in a secret victory dance.

Releasing her hold on Jareth's hair, Sarah brought her hands to his chest, fiercely gripping at the lapels of his jacket. At first, Jareth started to shrug, thinking she intended to remove it from him. He was surprised when she fisted her hands and pushed, using enough force to roll him over.

Jareth hit the ground with a thud, sending his scorching gaze blazing over the raven haired girl now straddling his pelvis, her injured leg long forgotten. So many thoughts ran through his head -awe, excitement, victory, suspicion, hunger. Never did he expect her to yield to him so easily, even if it was just a dream -a dream she had often- his inner voice chimed._Yes, this is going to be easy._ He felt himself giving in to his arrogance, and cared little as he engorged in the victorious pleasure of Sarah's burning passion.

Moving past his thoughts, Jareth ran his hands up the length of Sarah's thighs, kneading his thumbs at the torn line of material that rose just shy of certain things; certain things that were now radiating heat onto his inching-ever-closer thumbs. Sarah leaned down and over him, placing her hands upon his chest once more while Jareth's hands roamed their way over her protruding ass. He took a sharp breath once she nipped at his lower lip. Where they in her dream or his?

Sarah smiled something sinister at the beguiled Goblin King and tightened her hold on his jacket. She ran her nose along his and fluttered her eyelashes before whispering into his lips.

"So, this is my dream is it?" She asked, there was a haunting snicker behind her voice. Jareth grinned and pushed himself into her in response.

"Yes." He purred. She bit down on his lip once more to stifle her giggle.

"Good." She said, and pulled.

Jareth's eyes shot out as Sarah suddenly pulled him up and over her. They rolled once, twice, and then something strange happened. His breath caught in his throat as he felt a gust of air and a surging force pulling him and Sarah down. He looked past her and saw they were no longer nestled in a quiet meadow, but had rolled off the edge of a cliff. He felt a lurch in his stomach that often accompanies an unexpected fall and glared dangerously at Sarah.

"I hate falling dreams, they always wake me with a jolt." Sarah snickered, pushing herself away from Jareth and into the open air.

* * *

Jareth woke with a surge of all kinds of irritation and riled excitement. He sat up slightly and peered around the room , giving a small laugh before falling back into the mattress.

"Well that was certainly...unexpected." He said with uncertain awe. He had intended to manipulate her dream against her, yet she was strong enough to manipulate her dream against him. He hadn't counted on that. He steepled his fingers in front of his face and smiled in the darkness.

_Such fire! Actually taunting me!_ Never did he expect anything like that from her. All those years of waiting, and it was finally paying off. _Yes, the Labyrinth was right, Its will has fueled hers. Gods, and in the most delicious way!_ He was so giddy, even in his defeat. His reconnaissance mission couldn't have gone better. Yes, he'd underestimated her, something he had been warned of and now knew never to do again, but all the knowledge he'd gained -from just one dream- he knew which weapons to wield against her.

And at that thought, he remembered that he was now awake, expelled by his own weapon that she had turned against him, and bringing back the mental note he'd made earlier to keep better focus during these very situations. But Gods, did he love a good challenge. Truth be told, he would have been a little disappointed if he had won over her so easily. Yes, he was glad for her spirit, she would play his game well. He'd let her flaunt her freedom for now, knowing that the only freedom she would have is the freedom he granted her once this game was finally over. He smiled once more, now excited more than ever for round two.

"Perhaps she'll make a worthy adversary after all..." He purred into the night.


	3. Aggressive Negotiations, Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While unbeknown to her, Sarah has succeeded in obtaining the one thing the Goblin King has desired for hundreds of years -power over the Labyrinth. After being hidden for years from his diabolical wrath, Sarah finds herself alone and vulnerable as Jareth's dark desires are finally aloud to rear their ugly heads. As always, the only question is, are things really as they seem?

_Hands..fingers..lips..in all the right places. Gahhhd his mouth! I wonder if it really is that hot...So close...ughhh his groin. Fuck. His groin._  
  
There was a loud clatter as the dead weight of Sarah's fork went crashing onto the plate below, making Sarah jump in her seat.  
  
"Sarah? Are you alright?" Asked a startled voice.  
  
Sarah blinked herself away from the image of Jareth's ravenous stare and back to reality.  
  
"Uhh...yea. Yes. Yes, I'm fine Karen." Sarah spat, shaking her head and grinning like a fool. Karen narrowed her eyes and regarded Sarah with concern and confusion.  
  
"Are you sure? You seem quite flustered this morning." Karen asked, leaning over the table slightly, exuding the permanent twinge of worry that came with being a mother. Sarah's eyes widened and a hot blush flushed her cheeks. She grinned again, and looked anywhere but at her step mother.  
  
"Yea, yea. I'm fine. Just had a rough night is all." She said, shrugging her shoulders and looking up with a less then guilty smile. Karen's expression softened, and she straightened herself up to continue clearing the table of emptied bowls and plates.  
  
"Well I imagine you didn't get much sleep last night. I know I didn't on the eve of my eighteenth birthday. I was so excited." Karen smiled down and cast her gaze off as if remembering some ridiculous memory. Sarah watched on attentively, regaining her motor function and finishing the last of her eggs. _Oh, if you only knew Karen. _Sarah secretly mocked.

  
Karen was right, Sarah was too excited to sleep last night, but it wasn't in anticipation for her birthday. Her more than curious dream had left her with an overwhelming rush of every kind of giddy feeling out there. She'd woken with a jolt and an imagined thud, the way most do when they feel the sensation of falling. At first, she thought her anxiety was just the remnants of adrenaline her body used to wake herself; but, after a while, she found herself staring at the ceiling and grinning like a Cheshire cat, and realized something else was up. Why was she so riled and excited? Her dream was...odd to say the least, and at certain points she would have even considered it to be a nightmare. Her best friend turned into a Goblin, for Heaven's sake, she should be disturbed not excited! So, why was she so giddy? An image of Jareth came to mind and her grin tore itself new seams on Sarah's face. _Ha! I sure showed his arrogant ass! _She cheered, giving herself a mental pat on the back for her -in her mind- very clever means of escape. _Bet he never saw that coming! _She closed her eyes and gave a sigh of victory.

  
After a moment of mental silence, she shook her head. Why did she feel like she'd won some epic battle? _It was a dream Sarah. He wasn't really there. It wasn't really him. Geez, get a grip._ Sarah dawned the obvious upon herself. _But it felt different this time.._. Usually, Dream Jareth was all magic and linguistics, swooping back into her life for one night of glorious passion after another. She knew it was wrong, not just because of their history together but because of the fact that she was only fifteen when it had happened. She was just a kid and he was what? Hundreds, thousands, millions of years old? Talk about pedophilia at its finest. But as she grew older, she started to interpret her run in a different sense, and realized just what it was she had turned down. And thus, her inner romantic was born. She was pretty sure she'd never see him again, and was more than sure that any circumstance that did cause her to see him again would mean more trouble than folly. But, there was no harm in a little late night fantasizing was there? Just her and her dreams, playing over every delicious detail of what _could_ happen should they meet again. _Hmmm...Dream Jareth. _Sarah licked her lips in the dark, and then frowned. _But, this Dream Jareth wasn't nice or charming or romantic...he was still domineering and bluntly sexual of course, but...he was violent and savage...more real._ She felt a grave sense of unsettlement at the tail end of her thought._Yes...there was definitely something way different this time...Aside from the obvious shift in his tactical approach._ She thought rather suspiciously, comparing her usual mental materialization with this newest one. _It was...darker... _She darted her eyes with uncertainty behind closed lids at the thought. She'd never had a dream like that before. _Well no shit it was darker! He was going to rape you! _Said the self-righteous voice in the back of her head. _He was right though...It was my dream...I wanted him there. _She retorted to her conscience. _God knows it wouldn't have been rape. _She thought back to all of her other pretend encounters with Dream Jareth. She bit her lip in a guilty way. _Then why did you end it? _Her conscience rang, dousing the small fire sparking from her libido. _Because it was...not right. Something wasn't right... _She started to give in to her voice of reason, before its raunchy counterpart came stomping through the door. _Right or not, you have to admit...that was pretty hot...Gahh yes, I especially liked the look on his face when I hauled us over a cliff, very sexy. _This time, her two inner voice spoke as one.  
  
"Sarah, are you feeling alright?" Came Karen's overly concerned voice, dragging Sarah from her revelries. The world pressed play to find Sarah staring blankly at the table cloth, gnawing on her lower lip as if she'd never seen a piece of toast before.

  
"Yea." Sarah spat, her voice sounding just a little too uneven. Karen paused to stare more intently at her. "I'm sorry, I guess I'm just spacy today, worrying about the play n' all." Sarah spoke with a shrug and a roll of the hand, effectively curing sweet Karen of her suspicions.

  
"Sarah, you'll be terrific. You always are." Karen said, turning her attentions as a loud thump began to bellow from beyond the doorway. "You better brace yourself, our little Gremlin is up." Karen said, placing a stack of dishes into the sink. Sarah scoffed. _More like Goblin..._ She corrected.

  
Not a moment later did a golden haired tornado come barreling into the kitchen.

  
"Sarah!" Screamed a bouncing bundle of smiles and batman pajamas, launching himself across the room and into Sarah's arms.

  
"Well good morning to you too, Toby. Geez, someone sure seems excited." Sarah laughed, squeezing Toby tight against her chest and placing a fat kiss on his chubby cheeks.

  
"It your birthhffday, Sarah!" He yelled with even more excitement. Sarah giggled and rubbed her nose into his hair before setting him back on his feet.

  
"I know, so why are you so excited?" Sarah asked playfully. Toby thrashed him arms in disbelief.

  
"'Cause you a grown up now! And you get presents an' a party!" He yelped accusingly, as if it was offending that she didn't know. Sarah continued to laugh.

  
"Yea? So what's in it for you then?" She asked again. Toby shrugged his shoulders and shook his head.  
"I get to have some of you cake and ice cream, duh Sarah." He ridiculed. Sarah put up her hands in defeat.  
"Of course, how could I forget?" She kidded.

  
"Toby, please sit down and eat your breakfast. We have to take Sarah to school today." Chimed Karen, placing a bowl of cereal in front of where Toby was supposed to be sitting. Sarah's smile waned, she'd forgotten about that. _Shit... _She groaned. Earlier that week, the transmission in Sarah's '83 Cutlass had quite literally bottomed out, leaving Sarah stranded and dependent until further notice. Urgh, she didn't want to think about it. She scowled at the smear of ketchup on her plate.

  
"I'm going to go finish getting ready." Sarah murmured, standing to place her plate in the sink. Karen was busy cleaning up the milk Toby had already managed to splatter all over the floor.

  
"Alright, try to be quick, please. You don't want to start off your big day with a lecture on tardiness." Karen was both sincere and sarcastic. Sarah gave her a knowing smile and a quirked brow. "Oh! And make sure you see your father before he leaves for work. I think he's filing some papers in the study." She tacked on half distracted.  
  
Sarah ventured out of the kitchen, through the living room, and down the hallway leading to her father's study. The door was already open, and she poked her head around the corner. She found Mr Robert Williams busy shucking wayward papers in to a briefcase while struggling to push an arm through the sleeve of his jacket.

  
"Sarah!" He looked up and exclaimed, some of the flustered-ness leaving his eyes. Sarah smiled and stepped into the room.

  
"Running late today?" She observed, trying to be polite and not laugh at her father, luckily, he laughed for her.  
"Heh, yea. I got an email from the judge requesting some files this morning. I think I need to organize my filing cabinets." He said with a weak laugh, he was obviously a little stressed.

  
"Well, I won't keep you. I just wanted to pop in before you left." She said, stepping further into the room, watching as her father slid the now packed briefcase into a leather satchel. Robert finished pulling on his jacket and slung the strap of his bag over his shoulder, shrugging once he was all situated.

  
"Happy birthday, Sarah." He finally said, wrapping his arms around her in a warm embrace. Sarah tried to reciprocate, but he was squeezing just a little too tight.

  
" *Cough* Ok, thanks Dad." Sarah choked, patting her dad on the back. Robert released his daughter and held her at arms length.

  
"Eighteen already. Geez, I'm getting old. You'll be running off and getting married before you know it." He said with a faint smile, making Sarah blush.

  
"Uhh, I don't think so, Dad." Sarah said uncomfortably. Robert seemed satisfied with her answer and released her. Sarah took an awkward step back. Dad and boys -not something she really put together in conversation very often.

  
"I have to go to work now, but I want to give you something." He said, smiling anxiously at her. Sarah gave him a troubling eye. Why did he look nervous? Before she could respond, Sarah's father reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a long rectangular box. Sarah's brow furrowed as she made a quick examination of it. It was black, and velvety, the corners were slightly worn. It was old. She looked up to her father expectantly. "This was your mother's. I gave it to her on her eighteenth birthday, back when we were just a couple of kids. She no longer wants it obviously, so I thought I would give it to you." He said hesitantly. Sarah's eyes widened and she felt a flare of anxiety as she waited for her father to open the box. "I'm not sure if it's in with the current trends but...I thought you might like it." He said with a shrug, and handed the unopened box out to Sarah. Sarah took the box, running her thumbs over the velvety material as she allowed herself a few more precious seconds of anticipation.  
The black velvet casing opened to reveal a soft white satin cushion. On it lay a silver chain. It was thin and delicate. Sarah made note to be careful with it. Her eyes traveled from the metal clasp at one end to an intricately welded pendant on the other. It was silver, and about the size of a quarter. In the center, there was a tiny orange-yellow gem lain within a thin winding of silver colored metal. It curved in a circular motion, leaving tiny flares at exact intervals. It looked like a tiny abstract sun, or maybe a flower. Either way, it was beautiful, it was her mother's and she loved it.

  
"It's Citrine, your mother's birthstone." Robert chimed in. Sarah looked up with a beaming smile.

  
"Daddy, I love it!" She cried, throwing her arms around her anxious and relieved father. It had always been a little awkward discussing Sarah's mother, but he knew this would mean a lot to her.

  
"Good -I'm glad." Robert said with an _OOff_. She definitely wasn't his little girl anymore, and had the strength to prove it.

  
Sarah's burst of happiness was short lived however, as melancholy thoughts of her estranged mother came creeping into her brain. There was an awkward tension, and Sarah paused before removing herself from her father's embrace and stood awkwardly teetering from toe to toe.

  
"Thank you -Dad. It's lovely." Sarah said. Robert gave a sympathetic stare as he registered Sarah's descending happiness. "I already talked to Mom...she's doing a show in New York so..." She drifted off.  
  
Sarah only saw her starving actress of a mother maybe twice a year -not including major holidays (usually). Her mother had left her and her father just as she was on the cusp of puberty, not really a good time to leave a confused and emotionally struggling girl with nothing but her brokenhearted-and-too-awkward-to-deal-with-girl-issues father. It put a strain on her and her father's relationship to say the least, and when he married Karen...everything just went downhill from there. For a while, she blamed Karen and her father for her mother's absence. She wanted to be just like her mother and run away and star next to her on stage. At one point, Sarah had realized what it really came down to was the fact that her mother didn't want a family, she wanted a carrier. That wasn't her father's of Karen's fault. But, no matter what Sarah never gave up on her mother even if she only hurt herself in the end. Of course, things were different now, and truth be told there was only one person who could be held responsible -Jareth. She learned just how precious family was, and realized how much of her suffering was her own fault. Life with her family -life in general- had gotten exceptionally better since. Karen was more like a sisterly aunt than the irritating-woman-trying-to-replace-her-mother-figure, and she adored Toby like nothing else. Coming so close to losing him showed her how much she really loved him, and would never take it for granted again. Her father and her were better off as well, though they still had awkward moments like this. She tried to reconnect with her mother, but always found herself worrying she'd seem to whinny. The fact that she felt that way when she only saw her mother maybe 5 out of 365 days a year made her angry, but she tried nonetheless.  
  
"I'm sorry honey." Robert said, shaking Sarah from her daze. Sarah frowned and shrugged.

  
"It's fine. She has better things to do than celebrate her daughter's eighteenth birthday. I get it...I'm going to finish getting ready for school." Sarah fought hard to keep the depression away, absentmindedly stroking the vine-like metalwork of the pendant. Robert frowned but didn't push the matter.

  
"I'll see you tonight for cake and candles?" He asked, trying to lighten the mood. Sarah gave a pouting smile.  
"Yea, I'll see you then." She said and disappeared out of the doorway.

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY SARAH!"

Sarah jumped as she shut her bedroom door behind her and whirled around to see three very strange and familiar faces.  
  
"SHHHHSHSHSHSHSHSHH!" Sarah shh'd so loud it made the gesture meaningless, holding a finger to her lips and hunching her shoulders as she bounded away from the door.  
  
"Oh, My Lady! Have-est we given away our location?" Sir Didymus exclaimed. Sarah waved her hands in a signal to quiet down.  
  
"Would you quiet down." Hoggle grumbled, nudging Didymus in the arm, who snarled in return. Ludo sighed.  
"Sahhrrwweee, Sarrwwaaah." Ludo bellowed, shifting in the small space Sarah's room kept him confined in. Sarah smiled from ear to ear and threw herself into the mass of fur and fluff that was Ludo. She then turned and ducked down to hug Didymus, lifting him up in the air like he was nothing. And finally, she bent down to give Hoggle the warmest hug of all. He gave a nervous grumble in the back of his throat.  
  
"Thank you so much!" Sarah beamed. "I didn't know you guys were coming." She continued. Sir Didymus cocked his head to one side.  
  
"But of course we came! The annual of one's birth is a reminder of life and should be cherished and preserved for all of time." The little fox-dog-knight said most valiantly. Sarah pursed her lips at him. His medieval lingo got her every time.  
  
"Whatcha got there, Sarah?" Hoggle asked, spying the black box in Sarah's hand. Leave it to Hoggle to show upmost curiosity in jewelry. Sarah's head darted down, forgetting she was even holding it.  
  
"Oh, um, it's a birthday present. My Dad gave it to me." Sarah explained, opening the box to reveal it's sparkling contents. Hoggle's eyes widened and he gulped. Didymus made an "awe" sound.  
  
"Prrretttyyy." Ludo rumbled. Sarah smiled and looked up to him.  
  
"Thank you, I thought so too. It was my Mother's." She said, glancing back down at the delicate metalwork.  
"You should put it on." Hoggle suggested, trying to remain calm in the presence of such fine accessory. He resorted to kneading through his bag of jewels. Sarah thought a moment.  
  
"Yea...you're right. I should put it on." Sarah said, taking the tiny clip between her fingers and clasping it behind her head. The chain was long, so the pendant fell below the neckline of her shirt and nestled between her breasts. She didn't mind, less of a chance people would tell her how gaudy it was.  
  
"Splendid." Didymus muttered in appreciation. Sarah huffed.  
  
"Sarah! Come on! You're going to be late!" Sarah turned her head to focus on the muffled calls of Karen from down the stairs. She gave a sigh of disappointment, and turned back to her friends with an exaggerated pout.  
  
"Looks like I have to go." She said. Ludo frowned and gave a low unhappy rumble.  
  
"Will we meet again?" Sir Didymus asked, always the dramatic. Sarah rolled her eyes.  
  
"Of course. I'll be busy tonight, but I'll see you again soon." She said, fighting to put her hands on her hips.

Didymus seemed to perk up a bit.

  
"Before we leave, we's got you a lil' something." Hoggle quirked. Sarah rose a surprised brow and then smiled when he pulled a small wooden box from his belt of gadgets. "Here." He said, handing Sarah the aged contraption.

  
Sarah took the box with tender care and examined the faded carvings along the top.

  
"What is it?" She asked while flipping up the lid.

  
Inside the box, there was an assortment of small wild flowers. They were white, and had long stamens that moved and curled like the feelers of an insect. They had a strange aura about them, like she could sense they were of magic.

  
"They're flowers from the Underground. They'll never wilt or die. We thought you could wear them in your hair for your school play maybe." Hoggle said, looking unsure, while Ludo and Didymus stood proud. Sarah grinned and tilted her head to one side, watching the way the stamens retracted when she tried to poke at them.

  
"That's so sweet. Thank you. They're perfect." Sarah said, giving Hoggle a reassuring smile.

  
"Sarah!" Karen called again. Sarah huffed.

  
"I'll be right down!" She called back. "Guys, I gotta go." She turned back to her friends with a slight frown.  
"Of course, My Lady. We shall keep no more of your time." Sir Didymus said with a bow.

  
"Gooobyyeee, Sarrwwaaaah." Ludo rumbled, ending with a low whine as Sarah gave him a farewell hug. She bent down to Didymus next.

  
"Bye guys, and thank you. I love it." She said, releasing her knight and standing to watch as first Ludo then Didymus faded back into the Underground. She turned to Hoggle and stared. "Could you stay behind for a minute?" She asked, a stone seriousness schooling her features. Hoggle's brow drew but he nodded in compliancy.

  
Sarah sat on the edge of her bed.

  
"Hoggle..." She paused. "I know I've never asked this before but..." She paused again, glancing nervously up to Hoggle. "Do you know anything about Jareth?" She practically spat. Hoggle's brow shot up. He wasn't expecting that.

  
"Why are you asking about that rat?" Hoggle replied. Sarah's shoulders slumped, and she looked around anxiously.

  
"I don't know...I was just thinking...I see you guys all the time. We talk and hang out and you tell me about your lives in the Underground and never once have you mentioned him. Do you know anything? What he's been up to, how he's been?" She asked, wincing at him while she spoke. Hoggle's head twitched in confusion. Why was she asking about him? Now after all this time?

  
"We don't see His Majesty." Hoggle stated, frowning when he saw Sarah's brow start to curve down. "But I hears things...sometimes. He's the same, as far as I can tell. Sarah, why do you want to know?" Hoggle asked, wary and confused. Sarah sighed and looked away. _Because I had a really weird and sexy dream last night and I want to know if he had anything to do with it. _Her mind grumbled.

  
"It's nothing...I was just wondering if you knew anything. Forget I said anything." Sarah hid her disappointment by shaking her head and giving him a false smile. _Of course Hoggle wouldn't know anything...Jareth probably wanted nothing to do with him after what happened...I'm just thankful he didn't hurt them or...worse. _Sarah shuddered at the thought of her friends getting hurt for helping her, even if it was technically treason. After she'd first beaten the Labyrinth, she was worried Jareth may incur his wrath on her or her friends. She'd asked them about it, but they said they didn't know anything and hadn't seen him since the castle siege...and that was the last any of them had spoken of Jareth. While Didymus, Hoggle, and Ludo thought all was well, Sarah was worried. She thought it was odd Jareth would just up and ignore them...at the very least she'd expected to hear about a heavy scolding and threats of bogging.

  
Hoggle stared at Sarah skeptically, watching as she reached for her backpack.

  
"Thanks for staying, Hoggle. But Karen will probably kill me if I'm not downstairs in the next ten seconds. I'll see you soon ok?" She asked, shrugging one strap over her shoulder with haste.

  
"No problem. Goodbye, Sarah. And happy birthday." Hoggle said, almost regretfully. Sarah gave him a genuine smile and watched as he faded between worlds.

  
"Sarah! I'm leaving without you!" Karen yelled, harsher this time. Sarah huffed.

  
"I'm coming! I'm coming!" She exclaimed, making sure to close her bedroom door behind her as she bounded down the stairs.  
  
Sarah's day started off as good as any other. She'd made it to homeroom just as the bell rang, and no one seemed to notice her flash through the halls at mock speed, so she assumed she was in the clear. Homeroom turned to physics, then AP english, then french 5. The day seemed normal, with the addition of a million happy birthdays. It wasn't even lunch yet. Then...something weird started to happen.  
  
_TapTapTapTapTapTapTapTapTap._

  
Sarah beat the end of her pencil viciously against her desk, her eyes glued to the clock. It'd only been about twenty minutes, but it felt like an hour of trying to understand the supremely well-trained tongue of Monsieur Crone, who, surprisingly enough, didn't have a french bone in his body. She had a free period next. Ugh, she hated french.

  
"Miss Williams? Do you have somewhere to be?" Came a too loud voice too close to her ear. Sarah jumped, sending her pencil flying across the room. She looked to the side and saw Monsieur Mark Crone bent down eye level with her, his green eyes glaring. Her mouth dropped open a tad. Why was he so close?

  
"Uhh, no -Monsieur. Uhhhh, Je suis desole'." She stammered, trying not to fidget under his scrutiny. He smiled and straightened himself, leisurely strolling to the front of the room without a word. Sarah's eyes followed him warily. _That was weird... _she thought, examining his tall broad form and messy brown hair. _Hmm.._.she'd always had a bit of a crush on him, who didn't? But the inclination only went skin deep, he usually only paid attention to girls who fancied a miniskirt.

  
She watched as he bent down and reached for something -her pencil? _Wow, that made it far._ She thought. He then strolled back down the isle of desks towards her, staring intently like a stalking predator. _Ummm..._ Sarah thought, looking around the room. Strangely, no one else seemed to be paying attention. Her mouth went slack by the time he stood in front of her. He bent down and placed the pencil on Sarah's desk with a firm snap. Her eyes followed his hand as it left her desk and stroked a piece of hair away from her face. _Whoaaaaaaaaaaa. That is not appropriate! What the hell? _Sarah's brain went into automatic overload.

  
"Do try to keep better track of this. Wouldn't want you gouging anyone's eye out now would we?" He asked with a sardonic grin. Sarah gaped. _What the-Who the fuck is this?_

  
The hair on the back of Sarah's neck stood on edge the rest of the period. Mr Crone would preach and recite from his textbook, casually strolling up and down each isle. She'd freeze when ever he walked by her, and with good reason as each and every time she would feel her teacher's finger graze over her shoulder, pulling a tendril of hair with it as he walked on without so much as a second glance. Her eyes would pop out of her head and she would blatantly stare at her classmates, who didn't seem to have a clue as to what was going on. Needless to say, Sarah was out the door the second the bell rang. _Holy fucking hell. What was that all about?_

  
With fourth period free, Sarah chose to go over research and tactics for the Debate Team. Naturally, she went to the library. The given topic was the restrictions of tax-exempt peoples -such as descended Native Americans and certain religious groups such as the Amish and Mennonites. She gathered a small stack of books and started combing through one after another, not really focusing. She was still weirded out with french class. That was so inappropriate, never had he acted that way towards her -maybe with other girls, but not her. After a while, she found herself leaning over a bookcase, absentmindedly flipping pages that she vaguely remembered saying something about tax and government regulations. She was enjoying the quiet normalcy when a strange sensation quirked her interest. There it was -that feeling.

  
Sarah felt...odd. Like someone was watching her. She looked up and immediately saw a boy -Chris Jenkins?- staring straight at her. She knew him, they had a couple of classes together. Why was he staring at her like that? She looked down and realized her angle gave a very in depth view of her cleavage. She glared at stood, turning on a dime and crashing full frontal against yet another male. She tripped and fell into him. The man took a step back and tried to catch her, rather clumsily. Her face turned beat red when she realized his attempt to secure her arm had resulted in a heavy grope of her breast.

  
"Oh My God. I am so sorry." She shook her head furiously, refusing to meet his gaze. She clutched her book to her chest and backed away. The man laughed.

  
"Don't be sorry, you might have fallen and snapped a limb if I hadn't been been here to absorb the impact." Said the man. Sarah's face was the color of lava, recognizing the voice as Ben Maluki, a senior on the football team. _Fuck me._ What was up with her and guys today? This never happened -ever. Mustering what was left of her backbone, she rose her head to give him a bashful smile.

  
"True, thanks then." She said, nervously brushing her hair behind her ear. Ben smiled and leaned into her slightly.  
"Any time, Sarah." He purred, and then stepped away. _What the hell? _She gaped. His eyes...that stare. Why was everyone looking at her like she was a fucking turkey dinner today?

  
Next came lunch, which was eaten during the weekly student council meeting. She sat at the end of a long table in one of the teacher conference rooms. She glued herself to her chair and didn't move once. Thankfully nothing awkward happened. She started to relax, discussing planning and funding for the graduation celebration at the end of June. Talking business was a welcome distraction.

  
After lunch came gourmet cooking 3, where Tommy Ostello just-so-happened to spill a full pitcher of water down her front. Of course she would wear a white shirt today. Luckily, she was able to run straight to P.E. and -rather reluctantly- stuck to the yoga mats where there wasn't a single male form for at least fifty feet. After gym came world economics, and finally ending with college anatomy and physiology- where today's topic just happened to be muscle and systems development of the female form. Was there a reason her professor stared only at her every time he referenced the molecular construction of breast tissue? Sarah put her forehead in the palm of her hand and stared at the floor.

  
And like the euphoria of stepping into the sun for the first time after a twenty year sentence, the last bell finally rang and Sarah wasted no time in getting the fuck out of there. She breezed through the halls, being bumped and groped along the way. And just as she was about to push down on the final handle that separated her from the haven of a vast outside with plenty of places to run and hide, a voice came beckoning from down the hall. _Fuck me.._

  
"Sarah! Sarah! Where are you going? We have practice tonight, remember?" Came a bouncy, cheerful voice. Sarah groaned and turned to meet the voice, plastering a big ol' smile on her face along the way.

  
"Shit. I forgot. Heh, I was about to go home for the night." Sarah said with a shrug, watching as too-hot-for-this-small-town Becky strutted her way towards her in all her curly blonde hair and tanned skin glory.

  
"Good thing I found you then. Hey, where've you been all day? When ever I see you you're darting in or out of classrooms." Becky asked, jutting her hip out as she leaned against a locker -lingering stares did not go unnoticed. Sarah folded her arms across her chest.

  
"I've just been busy today, you know -debate, graduation, play, yada yada." Sarah said sarcastically. Becky crinkled her nose.

  
"You're the one who wants to do all that shit." Becky said. Sarah shrugged, letting her eyes catch on Becky's more than intended midriff and the scissor-cut neckline that went just a tad too low. She loved her friend, but God she dressed like a slut. It was only thanks to known oglers such as one Mr Crone that she didn't get in trouble with the dress code. _Hmmm, now I know how it feels... _Sarah thought, wondering why Becky openly craved that kind of attention, it just made Sarah uncomfortable. "Come on, first dress rehearsal's tonight. I want to get out of here before midnight." She said, taking Sarah's hand and leading her back into the school.

  
"Why do you bother doing the plays if you hate them so much?" Sarah asked.

  
"My mom says I need an extracurricular. I don't do sports, I'm not very smart, and I'm not patient enough to play an instrument." Becky explained, with no shame at all. Sarah smiled and shook her head. "Oh, Happy Birthday by the way. How does it feel knowing you can legally get a tattoo?" Becky said, and Sarah smiled.

  
"Thanks, but it feels kind of weird. I feel like everyone's paying special attention to me." Sarah said warily. Becky snorted.

  
"That's because you're level two legal." She said. Sarah's brow furrowed.

  
"What?" She asked.

  
"Level one legal is 17-the age of consent. Level two is 18-legal tattoos, chain smoking and gambling. Level three is 21, drinking age. Level four is 25, the age when you can rent a car without a cosigner. -well, that's for where we live anyway." For once, Becky actually sounded educated. Sarah blinked and then laughed. Becky had her moments.

  
"I don't think that's it." Sarah said, peering up and down the halls for any wayward eyes. "Becky, something weird's been happening today." Sarah said, just as they entered the costuming room.

  
"Like what?" She asked. Sarah sighed.

  
"I've been...I don't know, just having really weird encounters with people all day. Like, Mr Crone kept touching my shoulder in french today, and Chris was staring down my shirt, and then Ben felt me up -but I think that was just an accident, and Tommy poured a pitcher of water down the front of my shirt -which I don't think was an accident... Or I'll look around and just see people staring at me." Sarah's words sounded unsure, wary of how Becky would respond to her concerns. Becky turned to face Sarah with a smile too large for her face.

  
"That's because you're a big girl now." She said, eyeing Sarah up and down. Sarah scoffed.

  
"And what makes me so much more desirable today than yesterday. It's just a day, it's just a number. Turning eighteen isn't _that_ big of a deal. Something just doesn't feel right." Sarah said, rustling through the rack of assorted costumes.

  
"Oh, it will..." Becky mumbled. Sarah's head darted up, glaring suspiciously as Becky drew a hanger from the rack. She was sneering. Sarah's eyes narrowed. _What?_  
  
"Stop staring at me like that."

  
Sarah blinked, shaking her head as Becky scolded her for about the third time in the past ten minutes.

  
"I'm sorry...it's just...your costume." Sarah muttered uncomfortably, grimacing as she roamed her eyes over Becky's cotton clad body once more. Becky beamed a Hollywood smile and looked down.  
"Yea, yea, I know, not really my style is it?" She asked, quirking an eyebrow at the still half dazed Sarah.  
"It's um...simple." Sarah managed to muster a laugh and half a smile.

  
Alright, this was weird. School was odd enough, and now this? Tonight was their first dress rehearsal, and Sarah was having a hard time focusing. Every time she saw a stage light or someone dressed in a toga, her mind drifted back to her disturbing dream and she found herself searching the shadows for Goblins. She stayed behind set as long as she could, after all, it took a while for everyone to get into costume and set up the full set. But, as the actors took their places, she could hide no longer, and found herself sitting on the edge of a twilight zone as she gawked at Becky who was still trying to situate her headpiece in a way that could make it come off as appealing.  
"Simple? You can't see anything but my face! It's way more than simple. I've got a whole crowd of people staring at me and they can't even see my body!" Becky exclaimed, flailing her hands in a sign of defeat. Sarah put a hand over her lips as she stifled a giggle. _Oh Becky, you poor harlot you._ She then stole a quick glance around the stage, feeling more at ease now than she had all day. She was surprised by her level of contentment, given the parallel being drawn with her strange dream.

  
As Sarah wondered why she wasn't freaking out more, she soon realized that the only thing that kept her in reality was the blatant difference in costuming. All the side actors wore plain white togas, and the secondary characters wore either colorful sashes or hats to identify themselves. Becky's dress was plain white as well, covering from jaw to toe and back again. She had a weird headdress on that was supposed to be the equivalent of a flashing neon sign saying "I'm a nurse" and she was sure it had absolutely no historical connection to ancient Greece. Sarah's dress was white as well, though not nearly as sensual and lavish as the one from her dream. It was floor length and had long sleeves that tethered and hung down at the shoulders. It came with a golden sash that was supposed to mark her as having money. As she looked around the set from cardboard cut out trees to foam carved statues, she realized just how dire the school's drama department was in need of a heavy donation.

Hmmm... at least her dream was prettier...

  
"Becky, you're the sexiest nurse I've ever seen. I may just have to snag me a sponge bath." Sarah said, placing a hand on Becky's knee and grinning like a fool. Becky stuck her tongue out and reached for a box holding plastic olive branch head wreaths.

  
"Shut up and put this on." Becky snapped, slamming the musky headband on Sarah's noggin. Sarah squirmed.  
"You know, I had a dream about you and the play last night." Sarah said, itching at where the cheap plastic dug into her scalp.

  
"Oh yea?" Becky asked. Sarah leaned forward and looked over the crowd, nothing was even remotely similar to her dream. _That's because Jareth's not here... _She bit the inside of her cheek at that thought.

  
"Yea, you actually cared." Sarah said, sounding completely indifferent but glancing up at Becky with a cheeky smile.

  
"Ha! Wow, must've been some dream then!" Becky said, exaggerating the level of humor she actually found in Sarah's words. Sarah gave a shy smile.

  
"Oh, it was." She snickered.

~"A Lover's Ploy"

an adaptation of "Acontius and Cyddipe"

Act 1

Scene 10~

Sarah sat beside Becky on a rickety wooden bench that had been used in her high school's plays for the past thirty years. She was rummaging in a basket, looking for the perfect branch to finish her offering to Artemis. There were dancers in the center of the stage, and couplings of people acting casual throughout the set. The light was relatively dim, except for the spot light that was on her and the one that shone at the other end of the stage.  
  
Sarah's co-star - a junior named Jared Michelson (aka Acontius) was off at the far end of the stage, stalking Sarah (aka Cyddipe). She watched him out of the corner of her eye, keeping up an elevated and premeditated conversation with her nurse about the prosperity of the fall harvest and unconditional devotion to the Gods.  
  
Jared/Acontius crouched down behind a table at center stage, the spot light following him and was tripped over by a couple of "drunken partygoers" for comic relief. He looked down and saw a bucket of apples. He plucked one and examined it. Every gesture was exaggerated, so that people in the back row could still see what was happening. He picked up a sharp "rock" and started "carving" into it. He took one last look at the wax fruit and then up at Sarah before chucking it across the stage.  
  
The apple bounced hard off of Becky's protruding chest and she yelped in over dramatic pain. Jared laughed, which caused the directors to laugh, which caused Sarah to laugh, and soon they had to do the whole scene again. And Again. And again, until Jared could successfully hit his mark with the apple and have it roll out to Becky's feet.  
  
Becky let out a theatrical gasp and bent down to pick up the apple. Sarah felt a stiffness run up her spine, this was the part in her dream where everything went to hell. Her eyes darted anxiously, but she managed to keep in her role. She watched as Becky pretended to read what was inscribed on the apple.  
  
"What is it nurse?" Sarah-Cyddipe asked. Nurse Becky turned and looked at her with confusion.  
"It says something, My Lady." Nurse Becky said. Sarah-Cyddipe quickly snatched the apple.  
  
"Let me see." She demanded, holding out a hand as Nurse Becky turned and offered it to her. Sarah clutched the the apple close to her face, turning it from left to right as her eyes viciously scanned over the scripture. "I swear by the temple of Artemis that I shall marry -" She paused and gulped, then shook her head. Why was she getting so worked up? "Actontius?" She finished, and looked up to Becky. She was more than relieved when she didn't turn into a Goblin. "Nurse, what does that mean?" She continued. Nurse Becky shrugged.  
  
"I don't know, My Lady." She answered. Sarah shrugged and threw the apple straight into the would-be audience.  
  
Dress rehearsal progressed normally. With everyone in character and focusing on every little move they made, there wasn't much room for anymore awkward happenings. The directors went through each scene about three or four times, making tweaks and getting everyone used to their costumes and set props. Surprisingly, the most troubling scene was at the very end -the wedding of Acontius and Cyddipe.  
  
Sarah donned an ancient and musky wedding dress that was so outdated thrift shops wouldn't even take it. She stood on a plywood platform adjacent her co-star Jared, as they played through the scene for about the fifth time. She huffed and rolled her eyes as Jeremy (the Priest) read through his nuptial speech. Sarah hated this part of the play. In the real story, Cyddipe was forced to marry Acontius because of his backhanded trickery, not because she loved him -one of the many stories that set male aspirations above female desires. Of course, being a high school play, the masses called for a happy ending. So the script was rewritten to accommodate more of a love story and a happily ever after. Greek tragedies were tragic for a reason. Love rarely won in the end, and if it did, it was twisted and corrupted. It's what gave the original story impact. This "Oh you tricked me into marrying you and stole my future but somehow I love you anyway" story made her want to gag. But, oh well, acting was acting.  
She ran through her part with exact perfection as always and turned to face Jared for their final kiss. She looked into Jared's eyes and smiled like she was supposed to. Since this was about the fifth time doing the scene Sarah had a pretty good understanding of Jared's mouth. Usually when they did this scene, Jared's kiss was sweet and chaste. She thought it was because he was nervous about kissing her on stage in front of an audience -it was cute. But something was different today. He was more comfortable with himself, more confident. He stood taller and claimed the stage with his presence. His kisses were more earnest and skillful as well. It didn't bother her though. Jared was cute, all blue eyes and american-boy smile. And they both knew it was just a scene they were doing -nothing else.  
  
"Maybe this time we can get through the scene without anyone fucking up. My lips are getting chapped." Sarah whispered through her smile. Jared gave a small laugh, eyeing the pair of actors who kept messing up their lines and directions and had caused the past three retakes.  
  
"I'm not complaining." Jared whispered back. In a flash, he reached out and took hold of the side of Sarah's face, and stepped into her as he kissed her. Sarah fought the shock zapping out of her eyes. He pressed his lips harder and used his tongue to pry apart her lips, fully claiming her mouth. _Whoa. Where the hell is this coming from? _She tried not to panic and remain in character, so she reached up and placed her hands on his chest and trailed them up around his neck. He stood tall over her, which was odd because he was only an inch or two taller than Sarah. Sarah struggled not to close her eyes and give in. There was something...something about his kiss -a hunger. She'd never been kissed like that before. Well, only in her dreams maybe. And that was it. Something snapped in Sarah. _No. This too weird._ She thought over her dream and her day and the spelling of Jared's name and the strange look in his eye that she recognized one hundred percent and immediately stepped away from him. She looked up at him fearfully and caught a ghost of a smile on his face before he turned from her and forced her to carry on with the scene. She looked out over the stage, and prayed that gossiping couple one and two got their lines right this time and remembered to exit stage right.  
  
Sarah stood in the corner of the backstage, trying desperately to shuck off her final costume, only succeeding in getting it caught around her shoulders. She bent over, and the skirt of the dress fell over her head. Great, now she wasn't just a fool, but a blind fool.  
  
"Sarah, do you need some help getting out of that thing?" Came a light and cheery voice. Sarah sighed.  
  
"Uhh, I guess so. Could you just pull it straight off, please?" She asked, planting her feet firmly on the floor as she braced herself.  
  
"Sure. Ready?" Asked the voice. Sarah tried to narrow her shoulders.  
  
"Yupp!" She hollered through the layers of silk and satin.  
  
"Alright, one, two, three." Called the voice, and in an instant Sarah felt herself fly back as her upper half was released from the dress. She staggered back into the curtain rope, luckily, a hand reached out just in time. "Whoa, easy there." The voice said with a laugh. Sarah laughed and brushed her hair behind her ear as she found her equilibrium.  
  
"Thanks Jared. I was having some issues." Sarah said, looking up to see her bright young co-star fondling the dress into its proper position.  
  
"You're really getting caught up in all this aren't you?" Jared teased, handing the dress back to Sarah. A slight blush colored her cheeks. Sarah didn't normally go for guys younger than her, but she had just technically kissed him five times today, plus he was nice, and had the cutest damned smile.  
  
"I guess so." She replied, suddenly feeling awkward that it was just the two of them. "So...wedding dress...where the hell did they even get this thing?" Sarah said with awkward sarcasm. Jared smiled and laughed appropriately.  
"It's probably been here since the class of forty-two." He responded, continuing to smile.  
  
"Yes, well, it sure smells like it." Sarah said, inching closer towards the door when she caught sight of his gaze burning into her.  
  
"I think just the fact that you wear it makes up for that." He said, glancing nervously off to the side. _Is he trying to flirt with me? _Sarah gaped.  
  
"Thank you, it's nice to know that I can pull off a nineteen-forties moth eaten wedding dress." Sarah teased, eyeing the light coming through the door. Jared inched in front of her, blocking out her escape. His smile seemed...different...sharper.  
  
"You're very sarcastic." He said. Sarah hid her scowl with a polite smile. "It's funny. I like it." He added. Sarah looked away, the spell of his cute dimples having worn off a long time ago. Sarah didn't do this. She didn't fraternize with people in the Drama Club. They had to deal with each other for lengthy amounts of time and sometimes had to perform rather intimate scenes. The pressure of performing on stage was bad enough, she didn't need boy drama getting in the way. Plus, Jared was her co-star -her love interest. They had a kissing scene for Pete's sake. That's when something clicked. They'd rehearsed that scene, what? Like five or six times? _I was just acting...Hope he didn't take it seriously...shit._ Jared noticed the awkward pause, and changed tactic. "Hey, you're Captain of the Debate Team, right?" He asked, out of the blue. Sarah regarded him shrewdly.  
  
"Yes? Why? You want a chair?" She asked. Jared shook his head and laughed.  
  
"No, my sister's on the JV team." He informed. Sarah nodded and made a gesture with her eyes and mouth that symbolized 'oh'. It wasn't long until he started talking again. "You're President of the Student Council, too, right? And you run track, and you're the lead in all the school plays." He started listing. Sarah furrowed her brow at him. Why was he observing her life in such fine detail?  
  
"Yes, yes and yes. You're on the school newspaper aren't you? You writing an article about me er' something?" Sarah asked, not trying to hide the sarcasm in her voice. Jared laughed and leaned back on his heels.  
  
"No, I'm off duty. I just find it amazing you have time to do all that. From what I hear, you're pretty smart too." He said. Sarah scoffed.  
  
"Thank you for the appraisal, but I don't like to be pounded with flattery. I'm just a very proactive person." She said with a dismissive wave of the hand, more than done with their conversation. Compliments made her mad for some reason, she didn't really know why. She would always see girls in school fighting for attention and gratification like life was a contest. Yes, Sarah did all those things, and yes on paper it might seem impressive, but she did it for herself. She didn't need other people to make her feel like she mattered. She rather enjoyed modesty- compliments just made her feel self-conscious. Maybe deep down she was secretly shy. Frankly, the whole idea just irritated her. But, that didn't mean he wasn't being genuine. Why was she being so hard on him? It's not like he was commenting on her ass.  
  
Jared stood back, clearly surprised with her dismissal.  
  
"I'm sorry...did I say something to make you mad?" He asked, looking all kinds of hurt and bemused. Sarah rolled her eyes at herself. _Great, way to be an ass-hole Sarah. He was just trying to be nice. Learn to take a compliment!_ She folded her arms and sighed. Why was she so angry with him? What the hell was wrong with her? She glared up at him. There was something about the way he was staring at her...she knew that look.  
  
"No. No, I'm sorry. I'm just in a weird place today. Thank you for helping me out of my costume, I have to go now." She said, hoping he would just take the hint and get out of her way.  
  
"Any time...do you need help putting anything away?" He asked, looking suspiciously around the empty stage. Sarah's eyes followed. Where did everybody go?  
  
"No thanks. I got it, Jared." Sarah was about to take a step, and Jared was about to block it when someone came walking through the door, they both turned and looked.  
  
"Sarah! There you are." Called the persnickety voice of Mrs Jones, the school's tenth grade english teacher and director of Drama Club. "You have a phone call, the office forwarded it to me." She said, smiling from Sarah to Jared and back again. "You can take it in my office." She added. Sarah gave Jared a quick glance and walked straight past the both of them to Mrs Jones's office. She entered to find the phone patiently waiting off the hook.  
"Hello?" She asked.  
  
"Hey, Sarah? It's Karen. I figured you were out of play practice by now, but your father's running a little late at the office. Do you think you could get a ride home? Or you could wait up there for a little bit. I'd come get you but I've got dinner in the oven." Karen's static voice hummed into Sarah's ear. Sarah frowned. Great, now she was stuck here even longer.  
  
"Yea, that's fine Karen, I'll do option two. Bye." Sarah said and put the phone back on the receiver. She then turned to exit, and was met in the doorway by both Mrs Jones and Jared. She groaned inwardly. They were in the middle of conversation and popped their heads towards Sarah when they saw her.  
  
"Oh, that reminds me, Happy Birthday, Sarah. You and Jared did great today. I'm sorry practice took so long." Mrs Jones said, beaming at both Sarah and Jared.  
  
"Thank you. And, it's fine. Practice makes perfect." Sarah said. Mrs Jones grinned, and stepped further into her office. Jared took a step to the side and gestured for Sarah to proceed him into the hall. Sarah gave a sigh of defeat and crossed the threshold.  
  
"Have a good night you two." Mrs Jones called. Sarah glanced over her shoulder and gave a weak wave, stepping into the hall. Sarah shook her head and then turned to face Jared, who had purposefully stepped in front of her.  
"My Dad's here. I have to go." She said with clear irritation. Jared glowered down at Sarah and took the hint, stepping out of Sarah's way. _Finally! _She cheered and started a brisk walk down the hallway, only turning around when he called her name.  
  
"Sarah?" He called out. Sarah stopped and looked over her shoulder.  
  
"Yea?" She asked.  
  
"I heard it was your birthday today." He said with a cheeky smile. Sarah scowled.  
  
"Uhh, yea. It is." She replied. Jared shrugged and gave her an apologetic grin, just realizing he'd somehow gone too far.  
  
"Happy Birthday." He said, rolling back on his heel. Sarah felt the crack of a smile. _Ok, so hopefully that's all settled._  
  
"Thanks. I'll see you tomorrow." She said, giving him a small wave and vanishing into the hall.  
  
Sarah dashed down the hall, around the corner, and into the locker room. She'd told Karen she'd wait at the school for her father, and she'd told Jared her father was already here. Why did she lie to him? Did she really feel that uncomfortable around him? _Maybe it was the way he was looking at me..._ She wondered. Boys rarely made a pass at Sarah, and if they did she didn't realize that was what they were doing. She was focused, driven. She'd had a few boy friends over the years, and was no stranger to crushing, but she valued a good friendship above all. She came from a small town, the kind where everyone knew everyone, so she was friends with all the guys at school -grew up with them. She couldn't picture getting serious with any of them. It was just too weird. With all that said, she'd never felt uncomfortable around any of them -until today, and never had with Jared until just now. Why now? Was she still shaken from her dream? Was it because of all the accidental feels being copped? Was it because she couldn't get the image of a certain Goblin King out of her head all day? Was it the fact that Jared was suspiciously close to Jareth? _Hmm, stop being so paranoid Sarah._ She scolded herself, jingling on the padlock of her gym locker.  
  
Sarah was angry, and anxious. She needed something to focus on, to let off steam. She popped the button on her jeans and shimmied them down to her ankles. Kicking off her flats, she stepped out of her jeans and reached in her locker for her favorite pair of short shorts. She pulled them up and rolled the waist band once and then reached for the hem of her shirt and pulled it over her head. She poked her head out and did a quick scan of the room before unhooking her bra and swapping it out for a purple workout bra, followed by a black wife-beater tank top. She grabbed her spare pair of socks and slipped them on, propping up first her left foot, then her right as she slipped on a pair of running shoes. She looked to the clock at the end of the room, it was almost 8 o'clock already. It would be dark out soon...oh well, the track was lit. She grabbed a water and headed out the back door leading to the sports track.  
  
Sarah stepped out onto the track, and looked from left to right. She was alone. Good. The sky was starting to dim, and the massive spot lights had already kicked on. She walked to the head of the hundred meter lanes and set her water down by the fence. She then gathered her hair and put it up in a pony-tail. Looking down, she realized she forgotten to take her necklace off. _Oh well, it'll be fine._ She thought, and turned and headed back down the track, pulling out hurdles at ten intervals and made her way back to the starting line. She did her usual set of stretches and warm ups, making sure she was good and ready.  
  
She glared anxiously at the school as she stood on the starting line, and started shuffling from foot to foot. She hunkered down and placed her hands at the starting line, drawing one leg up to her chest and extending the other. Her starting blocks were locked up in the storage room, but she wasn't running for time so it didn't really bother her. She wiggled the toe of her sneaker into the spongey grit of the track, and then she was off.  
  
Sarah didn't know exactly how long she had been outside, only that it was well past dark out and her father still wasn't there. She put her hands on the top of her head and paced from side to side, taking one steady breath after another. She'd been running nonstop over and over. She was starting to get tired. She wiped fly away strands of hair away from her face and grimaced. She was sweating. She looked around the track, moon and stars and it was still smoldering hot out, or maybe it was just because she was running so hard. She continued to huff and puff. Her breathing wasn't settling. Her heart felt constricted by the heat and fabric that stuck to her skin. Her head dipped low as she focused on the beating of her heart and she put her hands on her hips. _I'm alone, fuck it._ She concluded, taking the hem of her sticky tank top and pulling it over her head. She saw other girls practicing in just a sports bra, but she never had. She didn't know why, it wasn't like she was self conscious or anything.  
  
The heat and pressure melted away from her chest immediately, and she took a deep breath through her nose as a cooling breeze grazed across her bare stomach. God, she felt so much better. She took another swig of water and looked towards the parking lot, it was just visible from around the corner of the school. Where was her father?  
Needing to take a break, Sarah sat on the track and started stretching. She bent one leg, and extended the other, stretching her arms out to clasp around the sole of her foot, working her hamstring. After a few seconds, she switched to the other leg. She then stood and stepped towards the fence. She raised one leg and propped her heel over the railing and bent down to touch the toe of her other foot. She heard a noise and paused.  
  
Sarah looked up, leg still extended high the air, and scanned her eyes in the direction she thought she heard the sound. It was dark out, even with the stadium lights on, she couldn't see very far. She heard the noise again, louder this time. She removed her leg from the fence and stood, looking up and all around. She heard it again, from behind her this time. She whirled around and saw nothing. _What was that? It was like...a rustling -flapping? A bird maybe?_ She wondered, still gazing up into the night sky.  
  
A few minutes past, and she gave up her visual interrogation of the night sky and lowered her head. She took a step away from the fence, heading back towards the starting line, when something caught her eye.  
  
Sarah paused mid-stride, She'd caught something out of the corner of her eye, something white, hugely contrasting with the night around her. She turned her head to face it and found herself momentarily stupefied.  
Sarah blinked, and tilted her head slightly, registering the white and golden barn owl that stared back. It cocked its head to one side, mimicking Sarah. She tilted her head to the other side, and again, the bird mimicked. She straightened her back and took a couple more steps. The owl shuffled along the steeple it had perched on and waited. Sarah blinked a few more times, and slowly felt the clamp on her jaw start to loosen. She was wary, catching the glint the light reflected off its curling talons. What was an owl doing so close? Was something wrong with it? Would it attack her? She wondered.  
  
Minutes and minutes past, as Sarah and the owl blankly stared at one another. When it seemed enough time had past to bring her mind out of the danger zone and rule the bird's presence as safe and disease free, Sarah's inner voice of reason gave way to its mischievous counterpart and entertained the idea that she knew exactly what it was doing there.  
  
In an instant, Sarah's demeanor changed, the stance of her body exuding a very different kind of aura. She narrowed her eyes on the owl, and it blinked in response.  
  
"I knew an owl like you once." Sarah said casually. She paused and reached down for her water. "He was a special owl." She crinkled her nose and sneered, glancing at the bird as she pursed her lips around the mouth piece of her water bottle. The bird cocked its head and leaned forward, ruffling its feathers. "He had magic powers and could do all kinds of wonderful things." She waved her hand around in the air. "But he was selfish, and arrogant, and cruel and it ended up coming back to bite him in the ass." She hissed, glaring at the innocent owl.  
The owl ruffled its feathers and covered its head with its wing. Sarah cracked a smirk and huffed. This was fun. She'd never openly discussed the Goblin King before -aside from with Hoggle and the gang.  
  
"But you're nothing like that." She said, setting her water bottle back on the ground. "If you were, you would be spouting glitter by now." The owl turned its head almost a full 180 degrees. Aw, how adorable. Sarah snickered to herself and started stretching again, extending her legs and reaching in all kinds of exaggerated poses. Yes, she was giving the bird a show, why the hell not? It was fun pretending. She hadn't made a wish, so there was no way it could actually be Jareth, right?  
  
When she was good and limber, Sarah stood and oriented herself to the starting line.  
  
"Bird, you wanna keep time? States is coming up soon. I'm going for gold." She said, glancing over her shoulder. The owl teetered from foot to foot. Sarah took that as a yes. She turned back around and faced the line of hurdles. She hunkered down into position and raised her derrière high into the air, quietly smiling to herself. Oh, this was so wrong. "You ready?" She called, twisting her toe into the grit. "Set!" She tensed her arms and lowered her head. "Go!" She hollered, and took off in the blink of an eye.  
  
The owl perched silently on the wooden beam of the steeple, leaning forward and watching Sarah with interest as she bounded over each hurdle. She flew with easy grace, making her actual jumps hardly distinguishable from her sprint. Her body streamlined down the track. She kept her head low, and extended her arms in perfect posture. The owl cocked its head. She really was very good, not to mention the stretch and curve her barely clad body made with each jump. The owl ruffled its feathers again, and shook its head.  
  
_One, two, three, jump. One, two, three, jump._ Sarah's mind murmured, concentrating on each jump, and watching as she came closer and closer towards the finish line. After her final landing, she hunkered down into super streamline mode and sprinted the twenty foot straightaway across the finish line. She reduced her pace until she came to an easy halt, and put her hands over the top of her head as she caught her breath. She leaned against another steeple that was left off to the side and looked up the track. She frowned, the owl was gone. _Aw, we were having such a nice conversation. _She pouted.  
  
"Eleven point two." Came a precise and highly annunciated voice. Sarah yelped and dashed off of the steeple and into the middle of the track. _Oh My Holy Fucking Shit! _She stumbled and whipped around, eyes wide and frantic.  
"What the fuck!" She shrieked on reflex, bringing a hand to her chest when her heart lurched against her ribcage. _Oh my god..._  
  
Jareth sat on the steeple perched on his toes, resting his forearms on his knees. He tilted his head to one side, and snickered.  
  
"Not what you were hoping for?" Jareth asked with a sneering hiss. Sarah's eyes widened and she straightened her back. _My God, it's really him. It's -Jareth! The Fucking Goblin King! Oh my god..._  
  
Sarah's eyes slowly fell over the picture that was Jareth the Goblin King. He was perched up on his toes like an -owl. He was dressed in all black, the neck of his shirt hung low and flowed in the slight breeze. Sarah gulped. _Fuck._ He looked exactly as she remembered him -no better. Dream Jareth had nothing on this. He hadn't aged a day. He had such a lithe frame and eerie sensuality. His hair was just as messy and perfect as she remembered, framing his sharp features. His eyes were done up in a smokey black that made his pale blue eyes burn from his face. Sarah's mouth started to water. _Shit. Stop it, Sarah. He's really here, this isn't a dream. You know this can't be good. Stop gawking -Stttopppppppp. Composure Sarah! Control the situation!_ She screamed at herself.  
  
"What the hell are you doing here?" Sarah demanded, taking half a step back. Jareth regarded her shrewdly, reveling in the element of surprise.  
  
"Now why all the hostility? We were having such a pleasant conversation." He said with total wickedness. Sarah's jaw tensed. _Shit. I said all those things! Shit! I practically flaunted my ass in his face! Fuck! No, Sarah. Do. Not. Panic._ She thought over and over.  
  
"I-I thought - How? Why- How are you even here? I didn't say the words. I didn't make a wish." She stumbled over her own tongue, trying to decide which question was more important- how or why. Jareth gave a dismissive glance off to the side.  
  
"Good. Because I'm not here to grant you one." He said, hunkering down to actually sit on the steeple. Sarah's eyes narrowed, fighting not trail her eyes up his legs.  
  
"Then what are you doing here." She demanded, shrouding her fear behind anger and an offensive demeanor.  
"So serious, can I not simply drop by to visit an old friend?" He asked, placing a hand over his heart and trying to look somewhat hurt. Sarah fisted her hands.  
  
"Then you must be lost because I'm not your friend, Jareth." She said with warning. Jareth flashed her a quick smirk.  
  
"Friend, nemesis, same difference." He said with a toothy sneer, locking his eyes with hers. Sarah's ears twitched with the intensity of his gaze.  
  
"I haven't seen or heard from you in three years. Why now? What do you want from me?" She asked, holding her ground.  
  
"I don't want anything from you." Jareth answered, stepping down from the steeple and taking a few steps towards her. Sarah dug her heel into the ground. Fuck he was hot. Years of dreams could not have prepared her for this.  
"Well, you're here for a reason." Sarah simplified, darting her eyes down his chest as he approached her, and raising them back to his face once he was standing in front of her. Her mouth gaped open just a bit. He was so close. She could smell his rich aroma washing over her.  
  
"Would it suffice if I said I missed you?" Jareth asked, observing the way her chest rose and fell with his proximity. Sarah felt a heat flare. Was this the start to one of her dreams?  
  
"And why would you miss me?" She asked, locking her eyes on his nose to avoid his vicious stare.  
"I think you have an inkling." He said, lowering his gaze over Sarah's body. Sarah gulped, just now realizing all she was wearing was a work out bra and some booty shorts.  
  
"No, not really." She responded, her eyes scanning Jareth's face furiously for any clue as to what he was thinking.  
"You're wet." Jareth observed, and ran a finger down the side of Sarah's waist, which was glistening with sweat from her previous exertions. Sarah's chest rose, but she remained still. _Fuck. Why is he touching me. Focus!_ She would not give in to his distractions. "Something tells me you're not as surprised to see me as you're pretending to be." His voice was low and soft. His eyes caught the glint of Sarah's necklace, and followed it down into the shadowed hollow between her breasts. It was then that he felt a strong urge to find out what was hanging at the end of her chain. Sarah gulped. _Probably because I've been thinking of nothing but you since my dream last night. Wait...I have a crazy real dream and now he's here? There's no way that's coincidence._  
  
"Are you going to tell me what the hell it is you're doing here?" Sarah demanded. Glancing down at his wayward finger. She gulped. He was still touching her. Jareth tilted his head slightly, roaming his dark gaze over Sarah's shiny form once more, his eyes catching on her belly button this time.  
  
"You've grown since the last time I've seen you." Jareth rumbled with lingering sensuality, changing the direction of his finger to trail along the waist band of her shorts. Sarah's nostrils flared. No, this was too much.  
  
"Jareth stop. Don't touch me. This is weird." Sarah said, glancing nervously away from him. He brought his eyes to her face, his expression stoned with dark determination.  
  
"And why is that?" He asked, bringing the rest of his fingers to join the first and started a new trail back up her side. Sarah flinched away from him. His ego smiled. Yes, he definitely had an affect on her.  
  
"You want the list?" She blurted, now conscious more than ever as to her revealing apparel. She thought about going to get her tank top, but immediately decided against it. Doing so would show him he affected her (too bad he already knew), and she'd be damned if she gave him that satisfaction. Jareth looked at her with amused interest, silently pushing her to continue. She huffed. "Maybe because the last time we saw each other was when you kidnapped my baby brother and did everything you could to stop me from getting him back? Or the fact that I was just a kid, hell I still kind of am and you're how old? Doesn't that strike you as a little wrong? Or even just the simple fact that we didn't exactly part on the best of terms." She rambled, forcing herself to stop before she got too worked up. Geez, why couldn't this just be another dream?  
  
"I am immortal, Sarah. Age has no meaning to me." Jareth's voice was soft and informative. Sarah tried to remain impassive. _Well of course he doesn't care about age! Fucking pedo! _Her inner voice shrieked. _What do you mean pedo? How many hot nasty dreams have you had about him? Don't go all hypocritical now just because he's finally showed up._ Said its raunchy counterpart. Sarah's mind had been waging war a lot lately, she'd have to give them names soon.  
  
"And you're not mad at me for beating your Labyrinth?" She asked. Jareth paused, then continued drinking in her body.  
  
"No...I find your victory rather -admirable." He said slowly -reluctantly, as if testing the thought as he said it.

  
"You still haven't told me why you're here. You didn't just pop in at random for no reason. And don't say it's because you missed me because I'm not buying it." Sarah spat, darting out a finger and jabbing him in the chest. Ok, that gesture was a little unnecessary. She just wanted to touch him. Jareth slowly reached up and took told of her accusing finger with two of his own, and directed it away from him. He didn't like to be jabbed at, but he was able to suppress his annoyance. Sarah watched as he turned her hand away from him -and didn't let go.  
"I hear it's your birthday today." He purred. Sarah was taken back. _Really? Why the hell is my birthday so damned important?_ She scoffed.

  
"Yea? Who'd you hear that from?" Sarah countered, sounding irritated. Jareth gave her a sly grin.

  
"You're quite popular with the boys aren't you?" He deflected. Sarah scowled.

  
"What are you talk- wait. You mean today? Mr Crone, Ben, Tommy, that was all you?" She asked in shocked horror. Jareth gave a cheeky smile.

  
"You were so flustered. I must say, I rather enjoyed playing high school for a day." He snickered. Sarah was starting to grow uncomfortable. _I knew there was something strange going on..._

  
"Jared? You were Jared too? Just today? Or have you always been him?" She asked accusingly. Jareth's smile grew bigger.

  
"Just today." He answered, and paused. "He's a very lucky boy." He added, running his tongue along his teeth as he stared at her. "Tell me, would you like to borrow my Chapstick, Sarah?" He asked sarcastically. Sarah's face flushed beat red. _Fuck. _She'd made out with him how many times? But it wasn't him, it was Jared. No, it was him pretending to be Jared. _Fucking shit._

  
"So you've been fucking with me all day? Why?" She asked, glaring at him.

  
"To shatter your nerves, of course." He stated, as if revealing some diabolical plan. Sarah drew her brow at him.  
"Why?" She asked.

  
"To better prepare you for our reunion." He replied. Sarah pursed her lips at him.

  
"A reunion you still haven't said the reason for." Sarah snapped. Jareth's smile retreated to a humble grin, and he eyed her with prepared anticipation.

  
"Come, come, Sarah. I'm not here to fight you, relax. It's your birthday. I've brought you a gift." He said, all light hearted and seductive.

  
"What?" Sarah gaped and scowled at the same time. Jareth took a step away from Sarah and watched as the confusion played openly across her face. "What? Why? You going to offer me my dreams again?" She asked sardonically. Jareth forced a sneer.

  
"No. That, my dear, was a one time offer." He said, failing to hold back the dangerous undertone in his voice.  
"What then? And what makes this birthday so much more special than the previous two?" Sarah asked, both intrigued and cautious. Jareth stood tall before her, and narrowed his eyes.

  
"You weren't old enough for what I want to give you." He purred and rumbled and God his gaze was hot. Sarah practically melted at his words. _That sounds very...suggestive_. She thought with just a twinge of excitement.  
"And what is that exactly?" A small flare of hope lit up her eyes. Maybe this would be her dream come true after all. Jareth stood back, the dark fire leaving his eyes.

  
"The chance to come back with me." He said, looking as candid as ever. There was a silence. Seconds ticked as Sarah tried to register Jareth's words and the solemn expression on his face. _What? What the fuck? Why? I thought he was going to offer me birthday sex._ Sarah didn't know how to think or respond. A night of passion she was down for, but going back to the Underground?

  
"What." Sarah blurted, dumbfounded. "Why?" She asked, shaking her head and frowning. Jareth tilted his head and shrugged all innocent-like.

  
"You have a certain merit, a set number of qualities that are compatible with the Underground. You have allies and an experience with magic...so much time has past and you still believe -not to mention your...victory. You have more than earned a place in my realm." He explained, trying to sound as detached as possible. Sarah's frown depended. _What? He's offering this because I'm qualified? But...I thought..._

  
"Jareth I-" She started, wrapping an arm protectively around her waist and glueing her eyes to the ground. "I appreciate it -really, I do. But...I can't." She said reluctantly. Of course she couldn't go back. She had friends, family, a life -a really good life in her opinion. She could never just up and leave it all behind. Jareth's expression was immobile, as if he were expecting her answer.

  
"Are you sure?" He asked slowly. Sarah squirmed at the way his eyes were examining her. She was turning him down -again.

  
"I-I just can't. I can't leave my family. You taught me that, remember?" She asked, wincing as she looked up at him. She expected him to look -what? Hurt? Angry? But he didn't. He looked completely unaffected.

  
"Very well." He said, low and clipped. Sarah drew a curious brow, recovering from her awkwardness. "In that case, I have a supplementary gift." He continued, and Sarah's brow heightened further.

  
Jareth raised a hand in the air between them and conjured a crystal. He glimpsed absentmindedly at it and rolled it along his hand before tossing it to Sarah.

  
Sarah caught the clear crystal and peered into it anxiously, unaware of Jareth's scorching gaze. The crystal started to fog, and an image came into view. She saw...a room. It was...her kitchen? What? The fog continued to clear, and she saw the tiny forms of her father, Toby and Karen come into view. They were gathered around the kitchen table, eating dinner and chatting away. Sarah shook her head and scowled.

  
"You're offering me my family?" She asked, staring confusedly at him. A devilish sneer broke through Jareth's stone face.

  
"Very perceptive." He said. Sarah continued to be confused.

  
"I don't understand. Why-" She started. _Why would he be giving me my family...unless.. _And then something clicked. "Wait...You have them? What have you done?" She asked, more sternly this time. Jareth cocked a cheeky eyebrow at her. "What have you done with my family." She demanded again, her stance turning fierce as she shot murderous daggers at the Goblin King. There was a significant silence and a deafening _Dun, Dun, Dun_ moment.

  
"Nothing, yet." He said with a sickening sneer. Sarah threw her hands down and almost stomped at him.

  
"What do you want with them? Why have you taken them?" She was practically roaring.

  
"I told you, they're my present to you." He explained. Sarah squeezed the crystal so hard she was surprised it didn't shatter.

  
"Why would you take them just to give them back to me?" She asked, watching his every move like a hawk.

  
"So that you would be more inclined to accept my original offer." He said. Sarah felt a strong heat rise in her chest. _Fuck, of course this was a trick. He doesn't just offer something without there being a cost. And he's forcing this on me?_

  
"Why do you want me to come back with you?" She commanded with raging intensity. Jareth laughed. Her fiery spirit was adorable.

  
"Will the reason have any impact on the decision to save your family?" He countered, knowing full well he'd backed her into a corner. Sarah stood, awe-struck. He was right. It didn't matter. No matter what he told her, she would do anything to keep her family from harm.

  
"How do I know you really have them, and this isn't just some kind of trick?" She asked instead. Jareth raised an eyebrow at her, a little impressed she was being so thorough.

  
"I suppose you don't. I could take you home if you'd like. They won't be there." He said, measuring her out. Sarah ground her teeth.

  
"I don't trust you to take me anywhere." She snarled and booked past him, out the gate and into the darkness.  
Sarah didn't look back. This wasn't happening. This wasn't happening. Why was he here? Why did he want her to go back with him? What had he done with her family? She ran and ran and ran. She didn't trust him to bring her to her real home, and it was only a mile or so if she cut through a few back yards. _They'll be there. They'll be there. He's bluffing._ She tried to console herself and fight back the surge of panic. _Me and my fucking dreams, this is a God damned nightmare. _She felt a heat in her cheeks and knew she was on the verge of tears. _No. _She fought them back with anger.  
  
Sarah rounded the final corner, leaping up the steps and bursting through the front door. She was practically heaving she was so out of breath, and she clutched her side as a sharp cramp stung her ribs.

  
"Dad! Karen! Toby!" She screamed, darting in and out of every room in the house. She spun around frantically and froze. She smelled something...burning -smoke? She dashed into the kitchen and saw smoke was starting to pour through the seams of the oven. _Karen said she was cooking dinner... _She thought and ran to switch off the oven and extract it's charred contents. She then bolted up the stairs, throwing open every door. Nothing. There was no one home. _Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. _This wasn't happening. There was no way Jareth had her family.

  
"Satisfied?" Jareth asked.

  
Sarah turned around slowly, hands fisted and teeth snarling. Jareth was leaning against an open doorway, looking positively arrogant. She stormed him.

  
"I SWEAR TO GOD, IF YOU HURT THEM I WILL FUCKING KILL YOU." She screamed, coming at him with weak punches. Jareth caught her by the wrist and stood her up straight, laughing at her outburst.

  
"My Sarah, language." He scolded, keeping her still as she thrashed and flailed.

  
"Let me go!" She screamed. He waited for her to settle down before speaking.

  
"Are you going to behave?" He asked, mockingly. Sarah grunted, but otherwise didn't answer. Jareth smirked, and released her.

  
Sarah thrashed her arms away from him and snarled.

  
"Where are they?" She demanded. Jareth slumped against the door frame.

  
"They're safe, don't worry -unless you refuse my offer of course." He said, tilting his head towards her. Sarah took a deep breath.

  
"So, let me get this straight. You show up after three years of nothing and kidnap my family so that I will go back with you to the Underground? I thought you were giving me a present? This is extortion!" She yelled, folding her arms across her chest.

  
"Well, since you've denied every gift I've ever offered you, I thought I'd try a different tactic." Jareth said, waving his hand casually in the air. Sarah was quiet a moment.

  
"If you want me so bad why not just kidnap me?" She asked.

  
"You know why." He rumbled all dark and ominous. Sarah thought on his words. _You have no power over me - oh yea...right. _She remembered the obvious.

  
"What's going to happen?" She asked, slowly coming to the conclusion that she would soon be swapping out her work out bra for a corset. Jareth shifted and folded his arms across his chest as well, relaxing just a bit. _Ok, she's done fighting...that was relatively easy._ He thought.

  
"Well, should you accept, your family will be returned as if nothing ever happened. Should you refuse...your father will be met with an unfortunate car accident and your step mother, and poor young Toby will suffer a tragic kitchen fire." He stated, his expression stone. Sarah felt hot tears begin to build in her eyes. _No... _That's it. Her decision was made. There was no question in the matter. What ever Jareth wanted, it didn't matter right now. She wouldn't let him hurt her family. She clenched her eyes shut and looked away. Jareth started to relax, sensing her defeat. He fought back a victory smirk. He knew she wouldn't accept. Choosing not to underestimate her yet again, he took out a little insurance policy, knowing she wouldn't refuse him if her family were in danger. "So, what will it be Sarah? Yes, or no?" He asked. Sarah was quiet, sullenly sorting through everything that was happening.

  
"Can I at least say goodbye?" Sarah asked, letting the utter despair ring through her voice. Jareth sighed.  
"No." He stated, his mouth falling into a hard line. Sarah's head darted up to him with desperation.

  
"It's my birthday, and my present. Please, just let me say goodbye." She pleaded, biting down on her trembling lip. Jareth felt a small frown tug at his lips. He didn't like it when she frowned.

  
"Fine." He gave in. "They're asleep in their beds." He said. Sarah's eyes widened and she dashed past him into the hall. "Oh, one more thing. Please don't try to wake them, because they won't stir until our transaction is complete." He added. Sarah stomped down the hall and ignored him. _Transaction? That fucking manipulative son of a bitch!_ Her mind roared.

  
She entered her parents room first, and dashed to the side of the bed when she saw her parents sound asleep. She gnawed on her trembling lip and embraced the limp bodies of first her father, and then Karen.

  
"I am so sorry." Sarah muttered. "I don't know what's happening, but I won't let him hurt you. I'm sorry. Please forgive me." Her voice cracked and wavered. No, she needed to be strong, she would not cry.

  
Unable to bear the sight of her zombified parents, she reluctantly stood and backed away from the bed.  
"Goodbye." She whispered, and closed the door behind her.

  
She then walked down the hall, the thought of where Jareth had gone haunting the back of her mind. She stopped at the door to Toby's room, and cracked it open. Pale light from the hall lit up the room, spot lighting Toby's bed. She crossed the room and sat on the edge of the bed. She spotted faint tuffs of golden blonde hair and pulled back the blanket, revealing the rest of her baby brother. Another surge of tears threatened to break the damn of her eyelids as she ran a hand through his hair.

  
"This is all my fault. Everything. I should have never wished you away. I love you Toby." She whispered, bending down to plant a woeful kiss upon his cheek, and pulled his sleeping body into a vice-like hug. She breathed into his hair, remembering breakfast that morning. They were supposed to have cake tonight. She wondered what would happen once she left. Before she could crush every bone in his body, Sarah reluctantly placed Toby back under the covers, and tucked him in good and tight. Then, she just sat there, staring. She didn't know how much time had past, and she didn't care. This was the last time she would ever see him again.

  
"He's certainly gotten bigger." Came a low and snarky voice from over Sarah's shoulder. Sarah whipped her head around and saw Jareth, sitting beside her on the edge of the bed. He ignored her glare, and reached up to brush a finger through Toby's hair. Like a trip-wire, Sarah's hand clamped around Jareth's wrist.

  
"Don't you fucking touch him." She roared, digging her nails into him as hard as she could. Jareth turned his attentions away from the boy and gave her a challenging eyebrow.

  
"I have never harmed him, Sarah. This is the second time you've placed an offensive hand on me, I recommend you not do it again." Jareth said, eyeing her seriously. While Sarah refused to give in to resorting to waterworks, the build up of tears was simply too much for her eyelids to restrain, and one hot tear after another unwillingly cascaded down her cheeks. "Oh Sarah, stop being so dramatic." He said, pulling his arm out of her grip and resting it in his lap.

  
"Dramatic?" She choked. There was a slight hiccup to her voice. Jareth gave a small sigh and rose a hand to gently stroke away Sarah's tears. "You're taking away everything from me, and you're calling me dramatic? Do you honestly have no idea what you're doing?" She asked again, unable to fight off his touch against her cheek. Jareth's expression softened, if only slightly.

  
"I understand very well." He said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

  
"And you really don't care, do you? Do you have any compassion?" Sarah spat. Jareth's stare turned cold, and he remained silent. Sarah's lip continued to quiver. "I hate you." She muttered. There was a flash of some emotion in Jareth's eyes, but it flew too fast for her to register.

  
"Your feelings for me are irrelevant at the moment. You have five minutes." He said, standing from the bed and exiting the room.  
  
Sarah put her hands in her lap and lowered her head. _Why is he doing this? Is he really that evil? Why, why?_ _Because you beat him and made him look like a fool! This is his revenge!_ Her mind yelled. _But why wait until now? It makes no sense... _After taking a moment to collect herself, she stood and left the room, unable to look back. She walked back to her room, and was relieved when Jareth wasn't waiting for her. She sat down at her vanity and looked around at all the pictures and keepsakes she had collected over the years. She plucked a picture that was wedged into the frame of her mirror and looked at it. It was a picture of Toby, her father and Karen, and her. She remembered that day, they were at a family picnic. Toby caught his first fish that day. She looked over and spotted the wooden box Hoggle had given her. She reached for it and opened the lid. She sighed, and folded the photograph until it fit neatly in the small box atop the flowers. She closed the lid and stood, quickly changing into a T-shirt and jeans. She put the small box in her back pocket and stared at the floor. This was really it. Some fucking birthday this was turning out to be.

  
"Tick tock, Sarah." Jareth called from the doorway. Sarah stood tall and glared at him.

  
"I have your word they'll wake up? That they won't be hurt?" She asked. Jareth nodded. She then darted her head away from him. "Could you make it so they forget? So no one will remember me?" She asked, wincing as she said it. Jareth cocked his head slightly. "I don't want anyone to worry about me, to miss me, feel any pain." She looked back up at him with pleading eyes. "Please." She asked. Jareth stared on for a moment, contemplating her request.

  
"As you wish." He said after a minute. Sarah gave a deep sigh and slumped her shoulders.

  
"Alright...I guess I'm ready then." She said, wrapping her arms around herself. Jareth narrowed his eyes on her.  
"Come here." He commanded. She didn't move. He waited, and then sighed, giving in to approach her instead. He stood before her, and gazed down with strict seriousness. "Sarah, do you willingly accept my offer to accompany me back to the Underground?" He asked. Sarah closed her eyes and frowned. _No._

  
"Yes..." She muttered, shuddering at the words.

  
Suddenly, there was a dramatic change in the air. Sarah felt...odd and looked up to Jareth. He was smiling at her -broadly. He took a step towards her, and she retreated. In a flash, he reached out and took hold of her wrist and yanked her flush against him. Sarah fought, but his other arm snaked around her back and held her hard to his chest. He lowered his head, and pressed his lips to her ear. She yelped and pushed against him.

  
"I've waited so long for this moment. Happy Birthday, Sarah." He whispered, letting the sickening echo of his laughter claw around her despairing mind.

  



	4. Flame And Shadow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While unbeknown to her, Sarah has succeeded in obtaining the one thing the Goblin King has desired for hundreds of years -power over the Labyrinth. After being hidden for years from his diabolical wrath, Sarah finds herself alone and vulnerable as Jareth's dark desires are finally aloud to rear their ugly heads. As always, the only question is, are things really as they seem?

Chapter 4, Flame And Shadow

* * *

"Get your fucking hands off of me!" Sarah growled through clenched teeth, pushing and pulling against Jareth's chest.

"Sarah...enough with all the dramatics, you're really starting to rain on my parade." Jareth chided, giving her a slight smirk as he released the hold he kept on her arms, effectively sending her flying backwards to land flat on her ass.

Sarah shuffled backwards, and darted her head in all directions. They weren't in her room anymore. She was surrounded by massive stone walls and beady yellow eyes glinting in the moonlight. She tried to stagger to her feet, but failed, feeling suddenly overwhelmed with anxiety and adrenaline. There were Goblins everywhere, laughing at her from the shadows. She got a flash of the moment when she'd first met Jareth, and of all the Goblins that had been creeping around her parents bedroom that night. It was frightening. After another split second of vicious scanning, she was finally able to bring an image of her surroundings into view. They were in the throne room. Before she could register anything else, Jareth was kneeling in front of her, occupying her view.

"Sarah, are you alright?" He asked. His voice was soft and genuine. He reached out for her, but she was quick to swat his hand away and shuffled further back.

"What!" She yelled, confounded and enraged with his question. Jareth moved towards her and reached for her arm yet again.

"Are you hurt?" He clarified, starting to close a hand around one of Sarah's wrists. Sarah's eyes shot out at him like rockets.

"Am I hurt? What the fuck kind of question is that!" She roared, actually resorting to kick him away. "Don't touch me!" She continued to holler. Jareth scowled and his eyes darkened, apparently reaching the end of his kind streak. He then launched himself at her, forcefully taking her by the wrists and hauling her to her feet. Sarah winced at the pain he exuded in his grip. "You're hurting me." She whined through her teeth.

"When I ask you a question, I expect an answer." His voice was low and stern, but held a dark hissing undertone. Sarah continued to struggle against his grip.

"I don't give a damn about what you expect. Let me go!" She screamed, finally able to break free of his grasp. She didn't consider that it was because he let her.

Sarah staggered a good ten feet away, stomping her foot and standing hunched over like a pouting child. She ran a hand in circles around her wrist.

"What do you care whether I'm hurt or not anyway?" She growled at him. Jareth stood tall, his expression revealing nothing.

"I do not wish you to cause yourself harm." He answered. Sarah shook her head furiously; what an incredulous and highhanded answer.

"Bullshit! You don't give a damn about me! You tricked me, maneuvered me in to coming back here. You've taken everything away from me. You've ruined my life! You don't care! Why have you taken me here?" She demanded, trying her best to remain strong and ignore the snickering masses around her. Jareth took a casual step in her direction.

"Because I want you here. And as to the rest of your rant, can you say I would do such a thing for someone I didn't have deep feeling for?" He retorted with a quirked brow, slowly inching towards her like he was cornering a wild animal. Sarah shuffled in her place, looking for some means of escape.

"You must really hate me then." She spat. Jareth's mouth fell into a hard line, and his eyes narrowed on her, seeming to be angered by her presumption. "NO." Sarah warned, thrashing out a hand between her and the encroaching Goblin King. "No. You got what you wanted. I came back with you. Now, leave me alone." She commanded at him. A sly grin curled one end of his lips, like he was enjoying the hunt.

"I may have acquired you, my sweet Sarah, but you are wrong in that I do _not _have what I want." His voice was dark and bubbling. Sarah's eyes burned like lasers.

"What is it you want then? Why have you brought me here?" She continued yelling, pointing an accusatory finger at him. A snake-like grin creeped along Jareth's face, but it didn't reach his eyes.

"Why don't you come here and find out?" He challenged with a hooded gaze. Sarah's back grew stiff.

"No." She held her chin high, returning Jareth's challenge.

With only a stride or two, Jareth brought himself to loom over Sarah's fuming form. She inched back slightly, but decided it best just to hold her ground.

"I can _make_ you come to me." He warned, letting a haunting sensuality and all kinds of dark promises roll along with it. Sarah crossed her arms over her chest and glared up at him.

"No, you can't." She said, standing firm footed on the stone floor. She heard the _"ooohhhh" _of gossiping Goblins snickering in the corners. Jareth's grin grew with her challenge. He reached out and grabbed her once more by the wrist, spreading her arms apart as she wriggled against it. "Stop it! You can't do this! You have no power over me!" There, she'd finally said it -the one defense she knew she had over him.

Jareth's chest rose and a dark predatory grin wretched his lips. His eyes narrowed and gleamed with a fire that stuck Sarah to the very core. Suddenly, his features seemed more angular, more intense. He looked so animalistic -so inhuman. In that split second, she was truly terrified of him.

"Oh, my Sarah, you don't know how long I've been waiting for you to say that." His voice sounded triumphant, relieved almost. The next thing Sarah registered was the pound of hard and cold stone against her back and the shadowing portrait of the Goblin King as he loomed over her.

In a flash, Jareth had pinned Sarah to the ground. His hands gripped her forearms, keeping her still, as he brought himself face to face with her shocked and winded expression. Sarah found herself breathless as she lay beneath the immovable weight of Jareth's strong grasp, and swore she saw fangs in his smile. Her mouth gaped as if to scream or protest, but he didn't give her the chance.

"I could rip you apart and take you right here, right now, in front of all my subjects. I could chain you in my dungeons and feast on the splendor of your flesh while the suns rise and fall. I could lock you in an Oubliette and leave you to starve." He snarled at her, fang and all. Sarah's eyes widened to the point of pain and beamed hopelessly into his. His gaze was hooded in darkness, but the fire of his rage lit up the brilliant blue of his eyes. He was quiet for a moment, seeming to instantly calm from his sudden flare of outrage. Then, something in his eyes shifted, and if the hood was being drawn. "But I have not, I am not, and I will not. So, yes Sarah. You'll find that I do indeed have power over you and you would do well to remember this moment should you ever feel the need to threaten me with those words again." His sentiment held less fire, but it was still threatening all the same.

Sarah was sure that she was having some kind of out of body experience. She couldn't move, couldn't speak. All she could see was Jareth's face, burning into her. Was she in shock? Her mouth fought desperately to formulate some kind of response, but nothing came. She didn't know if it were seconds or minutes that ticked as they lay in that position, but as time past and they stared at one another, something in Jareth's demeanor changed yet again. His fingers tightened around her arms, making his grip uncomfortable but not quite painful. His expression softened and the fiery aura retreated around him, only to condense within his eyes, and he sighed.

Sarah blinked. It was like the retraction of his burning rage was the button that needed to be pushed in order to resume play on Sarah's brain. She took a breath, her chest expanding up against his and she curled her tongue as if to speak.

"I-I-" She managed to get out, before being viciously cut off by Jareth's mouth pressing hard into hers. Sarah gasped and shrieked, trying uselessly to recoil from his invasion.

Jareth's mouth sieged and claimed Sarah's with brutal savagery. His strong and skilled tongue pried open Sarah's blind-sighted lips and quickly began devouring. He gripped her arms tighter and pushed his body flush against hers. Sarah wriggled within what space she held left, but with no avail. His tongue whirled around hers, coaxing it into some kind of movement as he started biting down on her lips. Sarah continued to shriek and cry out, but the pleas were left muffled and trapped within Jareth's ravenous mouth.

He kissed and kissed and kissed, forever it seemed. And then suddenly, Sarah felt her tongue twinge against his and her eyes blazed anew when she realized it was of her own accord. With new found strength she feverishly fought against him like her life depended on it. _NO. This fucked up. Do not kiss him back Sarah!_ Her inner voice screamed. Jareth snarled into her, releasing her arms to take hold of the sides of her face -keeping her in place.

Sarah's hands immediately started pushing at his chest, and she huffed into his mouth with the unsuccessful strain. She then snaked them around his back, hoping she could claw him hard enough to distract him. She dug her fingers into the muscular flesh of his back and scratched. It certainly had an effect, but not the one she was hoping for.

Jareth growled into her, and pushed his hips harder into hers. She could feel him throbbing against her thigh and shuddered. She grabbed and clawed at his biceps, huffing and puffing in frustration while he continued to pillage and plunder her poor vulnerable mouth.

"I know there's a part of you that likes this..." He growled into her lips. Sarah whined against him. "I'm not the one moving your tongue, Sarah. I can feel you writhing. I can smell your need..." Under any other circumstances, the sensual intoxication of his voice would have been a welcome treat, but not now and not ever if Sarah had her way.

Sarah grunted and groaned as she continued to push against him.

"I'm not writhing - I'm struggling -get -off -of -me." She managed to say between twirls of his tongue. Jareth smiled against her.

"You don't mean that." He whispered arrogantly. Sarah brought her hands to his clavicles and gave him one last push.

"Yes. I. Do." She snarled, biting down on his lower lip. Jareth growled in the back of his throat and pulled away from her.

"Such a tenacious little thing, aren't you?" He asked sardonically with a gasp and a deep breath, recovering from his onslaught. Sarah scowled her most scowling scowl.

"So you're going to rape, is that it? You kidnapped me just so you could 'rip me apart and take me' to your heart's content?" She hissed up to him. Jareth gave an amused huff and the start of a smirk.

"No, you precious thing. I think you'll come to find our union will be most consensual." He answered with arrogant prowess. Sarah felt her eyes narrow and another wave of rage start to surface when he suddenly moved off of her, taking her hand and pulling her with him as he stood. "Besides, if all I wanted was to steal your virtue I would have taken you right there on the finish line." He added. Sarah gave an involuntary blush. _NO. STOP. You're angry. You hate him. Don't let him make you blush! _Her conscience screamed. "Tell me you didn't want me to." He dared, locking his eyes with hers. Sarah gulped down a breath. _Shit._ He was right, she had wanted him to take her then. It was amazing how quickly things could turn to total shit...

"If you don't want to 'steal my virtue', then why do you want me?" She asked, surprised by the resolve in her own voice. Hmm, she thought she'd be freaking out more. Jareth gave a small laugh.

"I have no desire to steal your burgeoning innocence, my dear, because quite frankly you're going to give it to me willingly." He spoke with pure highhandedness. Sarah grimaced and took a step away from him.

"A bit cocky don't you think? Seeing how you've just taken away my entire life, my family, and everything I love, I don't think I'll be conceding to give myself to you at any point in time within the next hundred years." She hissed at him, folding her arms across her chest and turning her nose up at him. Jareth gave a sideways smirk.

"We have all of eternity, Sarah. One hundred years is hardly any time at all." Sarah's head darted up to him. He was really so sure in thinking Sarah would just give in to-to what? His evil smile? His dazzling charms? His saint-like generosity? Fat chance.

"I may have to add a few extra zeros to that." Sarah corrected, looking away but glaring at him out of the corner of her eye. _How arrogant can he be? Does he really think I'll just swoon over him after he fucking kidnapped me? I have to stay here -forever. He said I deserved a place in his kingdom, what he really meant was I deserved a notch in his bedpost. Is that what this is all about? He just wants me as a...a sex slave? Is that it? _She mentally scoffed. _But he's not going to force me...he thinks I want him. Maybe an hour or so ago, but if he thinks I want him now then -Pff, he is sorely mistaken. I will not give it up to him after what he's done. _She didn't notice the extended silence that stretched as she openly brooded.

"I'm glad to see you've managed to calm down a bit." Jareth's voice rang through Sarah's heated thoughts. Sarah turned her head and glared, momentarily forgetting she was still standing in the middle of the throne room.

"I wouldn't say that." She snapped. Jareth smirked and held out a hand.

"Come, it's late." He said, back to being all nice and genuine. Sarah furrowed her brow and shook her head.

"I'm not going anywhere with you." She snapped again. She expected Jareth to be angry again, but he merely cocked his head to one side and gave her half a smirk.

"Now you're just being childish." He taunted, curling his fingers in a signal for her to just shut up and take his hand. Sarah straightened her back and turned away from him. "Really? Pouting? I hope you realize that I _will _come get you, and no matter how much you fight me, you will like it." He teased and warned all at once. Sarah ground her teeth and turned back to him. She didn't take his hand, simply approaching him instead. _Well...there's no where for me to really run to...and he's right...I don't want him to come get me..._

Jareth donned a happy and sated expression with the victory of her relative compliance. His eyes beamed down to her as hers burned up to him.

"Turn around." He commanded. Sarah's nose crinkled and she snarled a bit.

"Ask me nicely." She countered. Jareth raised an amused brow and a large disbelieving smile captured his lips.

"Very well. Sarah, would you be so kind as to turn and face away from me?" Jareth asked with annunciated sarcasm. It was like he was compromising with a child. Sarah rolled her eyes in a look of detachment.

"Turn around and not look at you? Oh, with pleasure." She said, just as sarcastically.

Sarah turned in her spot until she was facing directly away from him, her arms still folded tightly over her chest. Jareth inched closer to her, but made no physical contact. A shiver ran up Sarah's spine, she could feel the heat from his chest against her back.

"Close your eyes." He whispered just over her ear. Sarah twitched at his unexpected proximity, but kept her eyes wide open.

Jareth watched from the corner of her eye and huffed. He really had no patience for this. He backed his head away from her ear and darted a hand up to Sarah's face, effectively covering up her eyes. Sarah jolted and fought against him, but he only tightened his grip, pushing her head back against his chest and holding her there with no effort at all.

"You're really starting to try my patience, Sarah." He said, and then released her.

* * *

Sarah stumbled forward and realized she was no longer standing in the middle of the throne room. She straightened her back and turned a full 360, taking everything in as fast as she could.

They were in a bedroom. It was large and spacious. As she looked around she found herself standing it what she guessed to be a small parlor area. There were several couches and chairs scattered around side and coffee tables. There was a book shelf on one wall, filled to the brim. The stone of the walls was a pale grey, and all the furniture was made of a dark -almost black- wood and was cushioned with rich green and gold velvet. Further into the room she saw a white marble fire place with a huge thick rug placed in front of it. The last section of the room contained a bed. It was large -overly large, and made of the same dark wood as the furniture. It was done up in dark purple blankets and what had initially registered to her as wolf pelts (though she highly doubted the Underground had wolves). There were heavy dark purple velvet curtains that hung all around, framing the long and tall dressers that lined the walls surrounding the bed.

Sarah's heart fell into her stomach. This was a bedroom, a very lavish -nice looking bedroom. Was it Jareth's? The thought made her sick. There was no way she was sharing his bed. She whirled around to face him.

Jareth leaned against a bare section of wall, and seemed to be scanning over the room just as Sarah had been, only he didn't look one bit interested in anything he saw. He was waiting for her to react.

"Where are we?" Sarah asked, though she tried to demand. The fear of sharing Jareth's chambers was quickly engulfing her. Jareth shifted in his spot against the wall.

"At first glance, I believe it would appear to be a bedroom, Sarah." He mocked, though tried to keep his tone serious -mocking her further. Sarah scowled. Did he really need to keep fucking with her like this?

"let me guess, you expect me to sleep here?" She asked, cocking her head to one side. Jareth rolled his eyes and waved a hand dismissively through the air, stepping away from the wall.

"Unless you would prefer sleeping in the throne room." He said, moving his way past her and further into the room. Her cautious eyes followed. "I believe you are able to figure most of this out for yourself?" He asked, glancing back at her over his shoulder. Sarah's eyes roamed slowly over the room once more. "The fire will stay sparked so long as you want it to." His tone had changed to that of a CEO explaining procedure and mandates. "The door in the far right leads to a washroom, and the dressers are already filled with clothing. Before you rebut, let me note that I would be more than happy to have you parade around, clad only in your dignity, so don't try me. Think you can manage?" He turned to face her at the end of his sentence. His hands were clasped behind his back and he stood tall and certain. Sarah, on the other hand, glared at him with her head dipped low and her shoulders slumped. Yes, she was pouting, she had every reason to.

"I think I'm capable enough." She muttered, standing her ground as Jareth approached her. He dipped his head low to hers and gave her a sly smile.

"Let me know if I can be of any assistance." He said cheekily. Sarah thought he might try to kiss her then, and was preparing to bite off his tongue when he instead straightened himself up and made no action toward her. In lieu of Sarah's presumption, Jareth instead walked right past her -to a door she hadn't seen before. He turned the knob and paused, turning back to face her with a soft, almost melancholy expression on his face. "Oh, and Sarah, I'm very happy to see you again." He said. And then he was gone, passing through the door and into the darkness. The lock clicked shut behind him, leaving Sarah alone in a strange room in a strange castle with a wicked man and a new life.

* * *

Jareth entered his chambers with the swagger of a man who'd just conquered the world. He strolled from one end to the other, passing the flickering hearth and the shadowed figure that sat beside it.

"It's a bit late for a visit, don't you think?" He asked the wind. He stopped at the foot of his bed, and started to pull the end of his shirt from the waist of his pants and shuck it over his head, not paying any attention to the being that was occupying his space.

"I see you were victorious..." Said a voice -light and feminine. Jareth sat on the edge of the bed and leisurely pulled off his boots one at a time.

"Though I can assume you're not here to congratulate me?" He asked, walking over to a dresser and pulling out a pair of sleep pants.

"You were sure to waste no time indeed." The woman answered. Jareth peered up, and saw the delicate highlight of her hand tapping irritatedly against the arm of the chair.

"There is none to be wasted." He retorted, after removing his pants to replace them with his pajamas, pulling them up to hang languidly off his hips.

"I find myself surprised she came so willingly. I thought it would take you another day at the least." Said the woman, trying to hide the sarcasm in her voice. She was not happy.

"I can be very persuasive should the need be." He asserted, stalking valiantly to join the woman in an opposite chair beside the fire.

"I can feel her pain, Jareth." The woman's voice was weak and woeful. Jareth glared at the flickering profile of the woman and leaned back in his chair.

"It will soon pass." He said. The woman darted her head up to him and burned him with the fire in her stare.

"I will not let you harm her." She boomed, her voice seeming to echo through the space around them. Jareth quirked a brow at her, his relaxed disposition becoming more attentive.

"Why can't you just be happy for me? I'm one step closer to claiming my bride." He said. The woman turned to face him fully.

"This isn't a game Jareth." Her soft angelic voice was as close to a growl as it would ever become. A darkness fell over Jareth's eyes, and he leaned forward in his seat. His gaze was a bubbling cauldron of dangerous prowling.

"Yes. This is." He said, his voice cold stone. "You knew what would happen, and you know you can do nothing." He fought back a snarl. The woman took a breath and settled her anger. He was right. No matter her frustrations, in this she was powerless against him.

"As I said, I will not let you harm her." The woman's voice was low and cryptic -unmoving. Jareth's eyes narrowed further.

"You played your game, keeping her secret and hidden away. But now that is over. It's my turn to play. She had your protection -protection which she superseded to me when she agreed to come back. She willingly gave me power over her, effectively taking it away from you. I will do exactly as I wish and you can not lift a finger to stop me. The only power you have lies within her. Must I really explain this?" He snarled at her, gripping the arms of his chair to help restrain his anger. The woman sat tall, and stared down at the Goblin King with stark dominance.

"This game has just begun, My King. And rest assured, things are not what they seem." Echoed her ominous warning. Both beings fell silent as the mysterious woman then flickered away between flame and shadow.

* * *

Sarah stood, teetering from toe to toe as she warily gazed around the room. She was sure a long time had past, but she just couldn't bring herself to believe Jareth was really gone. After about twenty minutes or so, so declared the area safe and gave her feet the ability to move.

While she was looking around, she'd spotted yet another doorway, close the one Jareth had exited through. She quietly padded her way across the stone floor and leaned up against it. If Jareth had gone through the other door, than it must lead to a hallway. So, where did this door lead? She gently took hold of the handle, conscious that it may be tripped wired or something, and slowly turned it. She wasn't exactly too surprised to find it was locked, but it left her wondering -what was on the other side? She then turned to the door Jareth had used and repeated the process, though this time she heard the lock click and slowly eased it open, careful of its creaking hinges. She peered through the doorway. It was dark -total blackness in fact. She couldn't tell if it led to a room or a corridor. She found herself curious as to why this door was open and the other door wasn't, but it was short lived due to the eerie feeling of unsettledness that creeped from the empty blackness of whatever lie beyond the door. She quickly shut the door and stepped away from it. Where did it lead?

Sarah turned away from the double set of doors and treaded into the room. The fire was glowing, and cast a small radius of heat that just reached her toes as she walked by. She then found herself halted by the dominating presence of the purple and black bed. She gave a small sigh of relief. _At least I get my own room...I don't have to sleep with him..._ She tried to be optimistic, that's all she could do for the moment.

She glanced to the right and saw the door that Jareth had said led to a bathroom. She looked to the left, and saw an assortment of dressers. There was a small desk, with a tall and elegant vanity mirror squished between two armoires. She felt a lump in her throat as she approached it.

Sarah sat perched on the edge of the dainty stool that waited beside the vanity. She sat in front of the mirror -and just stared. She then reached out a placed a hand flat against the glass. _I wonder if I can still talk to Hoggle... _she tilted her head as she stared, contemplating the idea. _Hoggle, Ludo, Didymus...they're all here. What if I could contact them? Could they save me somehow? _A small surge of hope flashed through her psyche, but soon bottomed out once her pesky voice of reason chimed in. _Even if you could contact them, they wouldn't be able to help you. They don't have powers like Jareth, you'd only be putting them in danger. You were all lucky he didn't execute or banish them all last time..._

Sarah's shoulders slumped. Would she ever see her friends again? They were so close now...and they had no idea Sarah was here. After a minute, she reached into her back pocket and pulled out the tiny wooden box Hoggle had given her, and remembered the sore spot it left from when Jareth had thrown her to the ground. To her relief, it wasn't broken. She opened the tiny contraption with nimble fingers and pulled out the folded photo inside. She opened it, and placed it flat on the desk, fanning her hands over it to remove its creases as best she could. She then held the image up, and took a hard look, and then tucked the corner into the frame of the mirror -like it had been in her mirror back home.

Sarah's hands fell limp in her lap, and she stared blankly at the happy family she would never see again. Her lip had started to tremble, but no tears came. _Everything happened so fast... _She thought. _How could I have let this happen? _She asked herself, knowing there wasn't a God damned thing she could have done about it. She frowned deeply as she thought over everything that had happened in the past hour. _How could I be so stupid? How could I think he would ever just swoop down and be -nice? All he does is pull tricks and play games...what is he trying to pull with me? Why the hell am I even here!_

Sarah gruffed and flailed her arms out on the table, disgusted with both Jareth and herself. _To think I would fantasize about him! He's not a magical dream come true, he's a monster! How could I actually kiss him back just now! He said he knew I wanted it...he smelled it on me... NO. He was just trying to fuck with you Sarah. Anything he thought was response was just me trying to fight him off, and anything else is just bodily reaction, something I can't consciously control._ She tried to rationalize. She frowned further, knowing that no matter how much she scolded herself -deep down, she knew the truth. She still was attracted to him, very much so in fact. _How can that be? After what he's done, what he threatened to do, how is it I'm not completely repulsed by him?_ Again, she consoled herself by saying that it was just a physical attraction and that had nothing to do with the fact that she now hated his very existence.

"Urrggghhhh." She groaned, clawing her hands into her hair.

Unable to deal with anymore of her ridiculous thoughts, Sarah stood from the vanity and practically stomped over to one of the mighty dressers. Peering inside, she found one to be filled with long elegant evening dresses of various colors and fabrics. In another, she found more casual wear -lesser dresses and even some shirts and pants. Next was a long dresser. The top drawer held a wide array of undergarments -slips, socks, underwear, bras even. The next drawer was filled with lace and bone corsets. They were intricate, and verrry sexy. She gulped and shut the drawer. She didn't want to think about wearing those. The last drawer held what she was looking for -nightwear. Most of what she found was either too thin, or too short. She scowled and scoffed, not questioning that Jareth had probably hand picked everything that would give him satisfaction in making her feel uncomfortable. _Why is he so sexual this time around? My dreams are one thing but...has he always been this way? Did I just never realize it? _She wondered, taking note at the way he ogled her on the track and how he'd mouth raped her in the thrown room. _Why did he do that?_ It was so uncalled for, so -out of the moment, for her anyway. Why was she even concerning herself over Jareth's confusing advances? If she knew what was good for her she wouldn't think about it at all. She was supposed to be hating him.

As she dug through the drawer, Sarah was happy to find a decent length, cotton and lace nightgown. She held it out in front of her and frowned -again- recalling Jareth's words about her refusing to wear the clothing he'd given her. If she wasn't so sure he really would make her parade around clad in nothing but her dignity, she would do just that. But, as her dignity preferred itself to be modest and well clothed, she gave in.

* * *

Time started to tick, as Sarah lay wide awake, staring at the ceiling. She couldn't sleep. Not now, not tonight...not in this bed...not in this world. She sighed and rolled into her side, gripping her pillow like it might try to run away from her. She gazed out a window that had been cut out of the right wall, she hadn't really paid much attention to its presence before, but right now, the moon was at just the perfect hight to cast blue and silver beams into the room that danced with the slow movement of Underground clouds. She caught herself wondering if this was the same moon she would stare at from her bedroom window night after night. It looked so much bigger here, so much closer.

Her gaze darted from one twinkling star to the next, and soon her eyes started to grow heavy. And as she felt the shroud of her eyelids blacken out the world around her, a lone and haunting thought came creeping through the dreary depths of her mind. _If he already has me...what else does he want?_

__   



	5. The Power Of Persuasion part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While unbeknown to her, Sarah has succeeded in obtaining the one thing the Goblin King has desired for hundreds of years -power over the Labyrinth. After being hidden for years from his diabolical wrath, Sarah finds herself alone and vulnerable as Jareth's dark desires are finally aloud to rear their ugly heads. As always, the only question is, are things really as they seem?

Chapter 5, The Power Of Persuasion

* * *

Sarah groaned in her sleep, shaken from her slumber by dark dreams of mismatched eyes and festering peaches. She scowled, then clenched her eyes tighter and snuggled her cheek into the soft fabric she rested on. Consciousness creeped behind her eyelids and brought the sharp sting of morning light along with it. No, it wasn't morning already. She groaned again and clawed her fingers mercilessly into the pillow she was clinging to. She squeezed it tight to her, hanging on to the haven of slumber for just a little while longer. She took a deep breath, and relaxed as something warm and heavenly flooded her senses. She exhaled slowly, hugged her pillow, and wrapped a leg around it. Just as she was about to relax her grip, she froze and her breath formed a rock in her throat.

Her pillow, it was soft...but it was hard. And her leg, how could she be draping her leg over it? There weren't any full length pillows on the bed. She paused, and then her heart dropped into the pit of her stomach when she realized her so-called pillow was moving. Fighting off her rising panic, she slowly tilted her head skyward, and fluttered her eyes open as she scanned over the thing she was clinging so vigorously to.

Jareth was awaiting her gaze.

"You pout in your sleep. I find myself wondering if it's a natural habit, or if it's because you were dreaming of me." Jareth's voice was low and full of victory.

Sarah's eyes widened exponentially, and she gulped down the rock in her throat as her eyes scanned over her situation in a nanosecond. Jareth was laying on the bed, with both hands resting behind his head and his legs crossed at the ankle. He wore a white poet's shirt and those oh-so-familiar grey pants of his. He was peering down at her, giving her the most sated, lopsided grin she'd ever seen. All the muscles in Sarah's face tensed, this was no pillow.

Her face burned a fiery red with both rage and embarrassment. She was clinging to him. She was stuck on, no, full on wrapped around Jareth the Goblin King -the man who'd kidnapped and was now holding her hostage. Her face had been nuzzled into his chest, one hand griped the frilly neck of his shirt while her leg had hooked itself around his thigh. She gasped and jumped away.

"What the hell are you doing!" She yelped, her voice squeaking one octave too high, and fighting frantically to regain her equilibrium. She fumbled to the other side of the bed. Jareth's grin was unmoving and he cocked his head to one side, just slightly.

"Waiting for you to wake up." He said, full of morning cheer. Sarah's feet dug into the layers of blankets. She reached out for a pillow, and held it close to her chest like a shield. Jareth cocked a challenging brow in her direction. "You're quite handsy in your sleep, Sarah. It was quite the unexpected treat." He added with a small laugh. Sarah's scowl was close to a snarl.

"Don't touch me." She growled at him. Jareth rolled his head back against a pillow.

"I believe it was you who was touching me, Sarah dear." The light in his smile let those far and near know just how much fun he was having at her expense. Sarah gripped the pillow tighter and darted her eyes around the room. She needed to find her balance before she could continue their confrontation.

"I can't be held responsible for anything I do while unconscious." She said, though her voice was little more than a mumble. Jareth huffed and sat up.

"I'll bear that in mind for next time." He murmured, and rose from the bed. He didn't give her a second glance. _Next time!? Like hell there will be a next time! _She roared inside.

"What are you doing here." She demanded, eyeing him suspiciously as he rounded the corner of the bed. Jareth stopped, raised an eyebrow and gave her a look that shouted -_Really? Are you're seriously asking me what I'm doing here?_ -. Sarah gaped awkwardly, and he waited for his look to fully sink in before responding.

"I came to wake you. We have a big day ahead of us." He answered nonchalantly, while fidgeting with the ruffled cuffs of his shirt, and effectively breaking through the tension. Sarah's brow drew.

"What?" She asked in disbelief. Jareth rose his eyebrows in exasperation before looking up to her.

"Believe it or not, Sarah, it is not my intention to keep you locked up in a tower for the rest of your life. I let you sleep as long as I could, now get up and bathe." He scolded, and narrowed his eyes on her to let her know he was serious.

"What_ is _your intention then?" She snapped, her backbone grew a little stronger with new found consciousness. There was a flash of a grin on Jareth's lips.

"Right now, it is for you to make yourself ready for the day." He answered. Sarah glared.

"And what if I don't want to be ready for the day?" She retorted petulantly, knowing full well how childish she was being. Jareth sneered something dark, and paused in his step.

"In that case, I would be more than happy to drag you across this room and bathe you myself, Sarah. You should be grateful I'm offering you the opportunity to go without my -assistance." He said, annunciating the words as they rolled off his tongue.

Sarah sat, perched up on her knees and hugged her pillow like a lifeline as she thought over Jareth's threat. Her eyes narrowed and roamed from him to the door in question. Did she trust him to keep his word? Hell no. He'd probably poof right in just as she shucked off her nightgown. Jareth rolled his eyes. This was taking too long.

"As I said last night, Sarah, I will come get you." He said with a small snarl, urging her along. Sarah's head darted back to him, and she glared with pouted lips before scampering away from his wandering eyes to disappear behind the confine of the bathroom door.

* * *

Sarah closed the door behind her and leaned against it with a quiet thud, huffing and puffing like she'd just ran a marathon. Jareth's wake up call was like a cheap shot to her psyche. She needed to reconfigure and reboot. She closed her eyes and lowered her head, relieved that there was now a small barrier between them. After letting out a sigh, she looked up and examined the bathroom for the first time.

The entire room was made of a carved orangish-pink marble. There was a sink, a toilet, some vanity tables, closets, clothing racks and other such furniture that would usually be found in a bathroom; and it was all made of welded bronze. She looked around from side to side, mildly confused. During her initial scan, she'd failed to see a bathtub. As she scanned the room for a second time, her eyes caught on something moving in the far center of the room -steam.

Sarah tilted her head and stepped further into the room to examine the source of the rising waves of steam -she found the tub. In the center of the room, there was a large circular tub cut out of, -or set into- the floor, with a step or two that led down into it. It was already filled to the brim. It reminded her of a Jacuzzi. She crinkled her nose at it. Looking over her shoulder, she spied a towel rack and pulled one of its fluffy layers free and set it on the floor beside the rim of the tub. She paused, and looked down to her toes and then back at the door. She really didn't want to be naked with Jareth no more than ten feet away. Her brow sagged with worry as she gazed at the now looming door, but was drawn from her daze by a loud and obnoxious ticking emanating from directing in front of her. She turned her head around to be met face to face with a very familiar floating clock. She rolled her eyes and huffed.

"I'm going, I'm going." She groaned, and swooshed away the clock as she rolled her eyes again.

With a snarl etched on her lips, she ripped the nightgown up and over her shoulders and sank into the murky depths, sending a loud splash of water across the floor in all directions. Wasting no time -in fear of Jareth getting bored and wanting to check up on her- she quickly washed her hair and body with soaps and shampoos that just so happened to be waiting for her on the rim of the tub. _Is he watching me from out there?_ She tried not to think about it.

She jumped out of the bath in record time, and was a little impressed with her own haste. She wrung out her hair and wrapped the fluffy white towel tight around her body. She looked up and was met by her steamy reflection in one of the many mirrors and realized she hadn't brought any clothes in with her. Her heart dropped for a second time as she realized she'd have to go out and face Jareth once more -naked this time. She looked around the room, hoping to don her nightgown -of course, it was gone. She clenched her teeth and inhaled deeply, seeing no other option than to face Jareth in nothing but a wet towel.

* * *

The knob turned with a slow creak, and the hinges wailed obnoxiously as she reluctantly inched the door open. She poked her head out first, clutching her towel like someone was about to pull it away from her, and for all she knew, there was. She took a step around the door, and spied Jareth lounging in a chair between the bed and the fire place. His jaw rested on his knuckles. He didn't look up, seemingly distracted with being bored.

Silently, Sarah tip-toed around the bed and towards the line of wardrobes, catching Jareth's sly gaze follow her along the way. She stopped and turned to him.

"Um, could I have some privacy?" She tried to ask nicely, but failed. Jareth looked up at her -feigning innocence- and brushed his index finger along his lips, knowing her eyes would follow.

"No." He said, and waited for her next move. She glared and let out a hard sigh, then turned away from him and flung open the doors to the armoire. She stared on in quiet contemplation.

_Hmmm...dresses, dresses, dresses, and more dresses...there's no way I'm wearing a dress around him... _And just as she mumbled the thought, her eyes caught on what looked to be a pair of trousers. They were brown, and stretchy, similar style to Jareth's no doubt. She then spied a lacy white shirt that looked suspiciously like Jareth's usual and plucked that as well. After a quick dip into the bra and panties drawer in one of the dressers, the look was completed with a pair of brown leather boots that she'd found in the bottom of the armoire. With one last glare at Jareth -who was waiting ever so patiently- she and her pile of things scuttled back into the bathroom. She emerged five minutes later with brushed damp hair and an outfit pulled straight out of Peter Pan, feeling victorious and ready to take on all of the Underground.

Jareth looked up with the same innocently bored expression he'd been exuding, and was still tracing a finger along his lips, intentionally giving no reaction to Sarah's hands-on-hips stance of self-satisfaction. His eyes roamed from her frilly white shirt all the way to her knee high boots. He'd expected as much.

"Interesting choice." He mumbled apathetically and stood from his eased back position in the chair. He took a step in her direction and held out a hand to her. "Come." He ordered. Sarah crossed her arms over her chest, and planted a foot firmly into the stone floor.

"Where are we going?" She demanded rather than asked. Jareth's ears twitched, he didn't take to being ordered.

"It's a surprise." He hissed, his stance becoming tense. Sarah puffed up her shoulders.

"I'm not going anywhere with you until you tell me where." She pouted. Jareth fought a snarl. She hadn't even been there a full day and already she was carving an irritating niche into his brain.

"I don't answer to you." He snapped, giving Sarah a clear confirmation that she'd struck a nerve against his Kingly pride. His reaction made her feel empowered.

"And you can't tell me what to do." She snapped back, growing more and more gall by the minute. Jareth took a deep breath, and she watched as his head lowered and his shoulders tensed like a snake coiling to strike.

"Yes, yes I can." He said, holding back a hiss with sheer exasperation.

In a flash, he reached out and took hold of one one Sarah's wrists, and pulled it out from her. Sarah jerked reflexively and pulled away, only to have her free arm caught as well.

"So defiant..." He started to rumble. "But, defiance for the sake of defiance is just obnoxious, Sarah, and becomes tiresome very quickly." Jareth said, holding her arms far and wide as she continued to snarl and flail.

"I told you not to fucking touch me! Let me go! Get your fucking hands off of me!" She screamed through gritted teeth. Jareth closed his eyes for a moment and sighed.

"Ah, and then there's that sharp tongue of yours..." He continued, and brought both her wrists together to hold in one of his hands while the other tightened around her jaw. He opened his eyes slowly and locked them onto hers. "I care little for such vulgarity, Sarah. And it really is quite unbecoming of a lady." He lectured. Sarah's nostrils flared with rage and her eyes burned with fury as he then released both her hands and face and took half a step away, frowning at her with distaste. A roaring fireball rampaged in Sarah's chest. _How dare he lecture me!_ She screamed.

"First off, I'm not a _Lady_, I'm a teenage girl who was just kidnapped by a psychopathic fairy-tale madman and I'll use as much God damned vulgarity as I want!" She roared, breathing mental fire at him. Jareth gave her a cold stare.

"And here I thought age made you all the wiser; though I must be mistaken because it would seem your years away have only caused your maturity to diminish." He said, condescendingly. Sarah ground her teeth.

"I'm plenty mature, but you can be damn sure I'm going to do everything in my power to defy you in any way I can for the rest of my God forsaken life. So, if that means swearing like a sailor, then I'll take that victory." She snarled, and then proceeded to embark on a very long and very loud rant and rave, spouting words and phrases that really shouldn't ever be repeated. The fire burgeoning in her chest was slowly clouding her eyes, making her blind to the subtle actions of the Goblin King.

Jareth lowered his gaze and shook his head as Sarah continued to spout _fuck _this or _fuck_ that. He reached into the cuff of his shirt and pulled out a long purple scarf. Sarah registered the movement, but was too caught up to react to it. Jareth sighed.

"Sarah..." He warned, and gripped the thin fabric between his fingers. He closed his eyes briefly and shook his head again when she didn't stop. After another second, he rose his hands and tossed the loose material directly at her face.

Sarah's eyes widened once she felt the scarf make contact with her face, and immediately brought her hands to to tear it away. She gasped when the scarf tightened...and hissed. With her eyes practically jumping out of her head, Sarah's hands clawed at the sleek black scales of the snake that was wringing itself around her mouth as she fell back off of her feet and onto the bed. Muffled yelps and screams of panic escaped through the constricting bands tightening around her mouth, and she flailed and jerked across the bed, sending waves of sheets and blankets up in the air and all around.

Jareth stood like a statue, his gaze dark and smoldering, as he watched Sarah wriggle in a panic on the bed in front of him. A few minutes past, and just enough of Sarah's fear subsided to allow her rational to come to the conclusion that the snake was not going to bite her or break her jaw, and so she started to relax. Jareth continued to breath slow and heavy as he waited for her to settle down.

"If you would try the temper of a man who holds the power to bend reality, then I may have to call into question your intelligence as well." He rumbled, glaring at her. Something in Jareth's words gave her the ability to focus, and so she stopped squirming and sat up on her knees, and let out a hard sigh through her nose, returning his glare. Each were silent as they broodingly regarded one another. The seconds seemed to stretch on forever.

"Are you finished?" Jareth asked, finally. Sarah narrowed her eyes, and nodded slowly. Jareth rolled his eyes, and the snake fell from her face, and returned to being the dark purple scarf it had once been.

Sarah sat, immobile, glaring viciously at the Goblin King while knotting the scarf in her hands.

"I'll have no more volatility coming out of that pouting little mouth of yours. Do you understand?" Jareth snarled, dark and menacingly. Sarah's chest puffed, and she bit the inside of her cheek, but otherwise remained quiet. Jareth held his hand out to her once more. "Now, let's try this again. Sarah?" He beaconed. Sarah's eyes darted down to his hand, then back up to his face. She stood to her feet, and instead of accepting his offer, placed the slinky scarf in his palm, and stood off to the side. Jareth's scowl cracked up in a smirk, and he took a step passed her and towards the bed. Sarah's eyes followed suspiciously.

Without a word, Jareth bent down and tied the scarf around one of the posts of the bed. Sarah furrowed her brow.

"What are you doing?" She asked him. Jareth straightened himself up and turned back to her, his light and cheery mood returning to him.

"Well, I certainly don't want it. Think of it as a keepsake...or a reminder." He said ominously, but with a creeping grin. Sarah eyed him, keeping her distance as he moved passed her. Though it wasn't far enough, as Jareth's hand clamped down on her wrist as he strolled by and pulled her behind him. Sarah stumbled and winced as she tried to match his pace. She stared at the back of his head with a worrying brow. Maybe he was still angry.

* * *

Jareth dragged Sarah through the set of rooms towards the pair of doors she'd been confronted with the previous night, and his grip loosened once they entered the hallway. Sarah made note that they exited through the door that was locked when she'd tried opening it last night. _This one leads to the hall? And it was locked last night? Where does the other one lead? Why was that one unlocked?_ She wondered as he dragged her passed it in a flash. The hall was dark and haunting. Unwillingly, Sarah scampered close to Jareth's side, unsettled by the echoing snickers of Goblins and God knows what else looming throughout the corridor. Jareth released her wrist to hold her at the elbow once she was at his side.

"Where are we going?" Sarah asked, timidly -Jareth's warning about trying the temper of a man who could bend reality came to mind.

"Lots of places." Jareth answered, and looked straight ahead.

"What do you mean?" She asked, just as timidly.

"I'm giving you a tour." He answered. Sarah noticeably relaxed with his answer. Jareth's gaze lowered to watch her from the corner of his eye.

"Of the castle?" She asked, sounding so sweet and innocent. Jareth actually smiled in the dim light. Maybe she was amenable after all. He'd have to throw snakes at her more often.

"Yes." He said. Sarah looked up to him, actually able to hear the smile on his lips. "I told you, it is not my intention to keep you locked up in a tower. You'll be venturing in and out of these rooms at one point or another; and it will give me piece of mind to have shown you before hand exactly what it is you venture in and out of." He added. Sarah continued to gaze at him, confounded.

"Wait...I'm free to roam around the castle?" She asked, testing the theory. Jareth huffed, and came to an abrupt halt outside a large wooden door. He turned on his heel and lowered his gaze to meet hers, a small mischievous smile haunted his face.

"Does that surprise you?" He asked, mockingly. Sarah frowned, and looked to the floor. Jareth's sneer only grew. "Contrary to any presumptions you may have, you're not a slave here, Sarah." He said, his voice was both soft and amused. Sarah's brow continued to worry. _If I'm not your slave..why have you taken me here?_ She wondered.

* * *

Jareth's tour of the Castle Beyond the Goblin City was mind-boggling. There were so many floors, so many rooms, so many -unnecessary rooms. They traveled in and out of various lounges, dens, studies, kitchens, bedrooms, bath halls, dance halls, dining halls, and entertainment rooms. Those she understood, those kinds of rooms were practical -though why he needed twenty different ones of each, she didn't know. What she didn't understand was the room that was nothing but floating upside-down umbrellas, or the room that was a black and white checkered pattern that twisted into a vortex that stretched on forever, or the room where once you walked in you were somehow standing on the ceiling looking down at everything. What were these rooms used for? What was the point? On and on they went, for hours it seemed. Sarah stayed close to his side. She had to, as he gripped her hand hard and pulled her in every time she strayed too far. At times she didn't mind, certain parts of the castle were dark and decrepit. It made her jittery and anxious. As they wandered into one room after another, he would offer a brief and stale explanation for each room, and Sarah sucked in his words like a vacuum. She needed to learn as much about the castle as possible. Why was he explaining all this? Why offer her in-depth knowledge of the castle? Jareth paused at one point, and turned to her just as he was about to reach out for the next door.

"Let me warn you that there are certain rooms in castle you shouldn't enter alone." Jareth said, and eyed her sternly as he pushed open the door behind him. Sarah's brow drew, but before she could respond she was yanked from her confusion and pulled across the threshold into yet another strange room.

Sarah stood, looking up and all around. The room they were in -it was nothing. It really was nothing. There were no walls, no ceiling, and most peculiarly no floor. It was just...blank, a white void. She took a step away from Jareth, but his hand tightened around hers instantly and tugged her back to his side. She looked up to him, planning to glare, but was beaten to it once she saw the stone seriousness in Jareth's eyes burning down at her. She worried her brow and looked around the room once more.

"What is this place?" She asked, giving in to return Jareth's grip on her hand. He seemed tense all of the sudden. Was this room dangerous or something?

"It's nothing." Jareth responded. "There are dozens of rooms like this scattered throughout the castle. I haven't decided what to do with them yet, so for now they're clean slates -centers of raw magic waiting to be molded into reality." He explained. Sarah nodded like she had a clue as to what he was talking about, slowly fell into a daze as blank as the space around them. "Do not enter one of these rooms without me. Do you understand?" He asked suddenly, and squeezed her hand to the point of pain to implore her to look up at him. She winced and shot her head up.

"What will happen if I do?" She asked. Her eyes slowly fell to her feet standing on an absent floor. _How odd..._

"If I were to release your hand, you would fall into an oblivion for the rest of eternity." Jareth said. And like his words were a small jolt of electricity, Sarah practically jumped into his arms, though she was aiming for the door. Pleased that she was jumping towards him and not away from him, Jareth placed a hand on her back and ushered her out of the room and into the safety of the hall.

"Ok, stay away from blank white spaces. Anything else?" She asked, precariously backing away from him as far as he would let her. She was annoyed at the way he_ insisted _on holding her hand, but there was nothing she could really do about it.

"Yes, but we'll come to them when we come to them." He said, and turned to resume their walk down the lengthy hall.

* * *

At some point, the corridor turned dark, and dingy. A damp musk filled the air and smelled of something foul. Where were they going now? The end of the hall was marked by a shabby looking metal barred door that creaked and hissed as Jareth swung it on its hinges. Once they passed through it, their pace slowed substantially, and Jareth's grip on her arm was almost non-existent. Its absence made her worried.

It was dark, and a thin mist hovered in the air around them. She could hear the echoing drip of water, but it was too dark to see from where. As they walked, the hall started to widen, and the walls were lined with large cells with thick iron barred doors. She heard an echoing of voices from further down. Was some one screaming? Where the hell was he taking her? She frowned and stayed close to his side, actually missing the safety that came with his grasp.

She looked to her right and caught a dim flashing light out of the corner of her eye. She turned her head, and the light was soon followed by mangled and garbled screams. She jumped involuntarily and latched onto Jareth's arm. Soon, screams began to emanate from every direction, echoing and swirling around Sarah's ears in horrid twisting pain.

"Where are you taking me." She practically screamed, though it was from fear rather than anger for a change. Jareth gave a high-handed smirk, but looked straight ahead.

"Welcome to the dungeons." He said, and halted their walk. He turned to face the direction of the loudest scream. She could see shadows on the wall from around the corner. She didn't know what was happening, but she had an idea and quickly turned her head away. "Care to take a closer look?" He asked, thoroughly enjoying himself. Sarah gulped down her fear and glared up at him.

"If you're trying to scare me, it's working. And if you think this is some kind of joke, it's not funny." She said sharply. Jareth peered down at her with hooded eyes and a smug grin.

"Just showing you all my castle has to offer, Sarah." He said casually, though his undertone was clear. Sarah crossed her arms over her chest.

"This is a warning, I get it. Ok? Can we go now?" She asked irritably.

"These rooms don't always have to be used for pain, you know." He said, letting the words rumble off his tongue. Sarah's jaw tightened, and she felt the urge to flee, but there was no where to run.

"I'll bear that in mind the next time I see a Goblin locked in an iron maiden. Can we go now, please? You've made your point." Sarah asked, becoming more and more unsettled by the cries and screams of the poor prisoners. Jareth's lips twitched, and he took hold of her arm once more.

"You'd be surprised how far good manners can get you, Sarah. Come." He said, and pulled her through a door on the other side of the dungeon.

Sarah shivered once they returned to the familiar reddish stone of the corridor. She stared up at the back of Jareth's head menacingly. She wanted to glare at him. He'd done that on purpose. _Ass._.

"How many rooms are in this castle? I feel like we've been walking for hours.." Sarah mumbled, mostly for the sake of distracting herself from the remaining echoes of the dungeon still ramming around in her brain, rather than because she actually wanted to know. She almost stumbled as she traveled hurriedly behind the Goblin King. He had a long stride.

"That's because we have been. And, we're not even half way through yet." He answered. Sarah gaped at the back of his head.

"What? Why is this place so big? You can't possibly use all these rooms. Like that umbrella room, what is the purpose of that?" She asked, voicing her confusion and minding her feet as she skipped up a small staircase behind him.

"Its purpose is that it is." He answered, sounding wise beyond his years. Sarah frowned, she didn't understand. "Things exist in your world for their practicality. Things exist in my world because they can." He elaborated, seeming to sense Sarah's turmoil. _Ok...so not making sense makes sense then? I guess that makes sense...hmmmm. _She pondered, and almost tripped into Jareth as he halted at the top of the stairs. "You remember the throne room." He chimed in. Sarah took a wide step around him and peered around the place where she was viciously assaulted the night before and cringed.

"Yes, I remember the throne room." She muttered, replaying her encounter with Jareth like a hologram against the stone floor. She nibbled her lower lip. Jareth glanced around unaffected, and turned his body slightly to point across the room towards a stone archway.

"I assume you remember that stairwell as well; it leads down to the main gate and passes through the great hall we went through earlier." He explained. Sarah turned, and drew her brow tight, remembering her stampede with Hoggle, Didymus, and Ludo all those years ago.

"You're showing me where the door is? Aren't you worried I'll try to escape?" She asked, and failed to see the smile that set on Jareth's lips.

"The key word in your question, Sarah, is _try_. Try all you may, but you will never escape me. No matter where you go, I will always be able to find you. So, no. I'm not worried." He said, sounding so smug with himself. Sarah pursed her lips at the archway. He was right, she could never really escape him. Should she even bother? She frowned, and her hand slowly rose to stroke along her stomach as she thought.

"Are you hungry?" Jareth asked, quirking an eyebrow at her abdomen. Sarah twitched from her daze and peered down at her hand, then up at Jareth.

"I'm not eating anything you give me. Against your better wishes, I do remember what happened last time." She said, staring him straight in the eye. A sly grin curled Jareth lips, and his eyes were suddenly alight once more.

"And what do you know of my wishes?" He chided her, his smile broadened as he spoke. "Come, I know what I can show you next." He said, and pulled on her elbow. Sarah gruffed. She didn't like being dragged around like a dog on a leash.

Jareth turned, and led Sarah back down the staircase. She paid close attention to all the dips and turns they took. Would she ever be able to remember all this? Much too suddenly, the pair stopped in front of a large door. Sarah leaned back on her heels and gaped. It had to be at least twenty feet high. With a low booming crackle, the door magically eased open, revealing an exquisitely large dining hall. _Wait...I thought he already showed me the dining hall? He has more than one?! What makes this one better than the other one exactly? _Sarah shook her head, baffled with his grandiose.

Without an explanation, Jareth continued to lead Sarah into the vast hall. The walls were white, with large pillars lining the sides. The ceiling was gold, and had a large painted mural of strange creatures enjoying the plunder of battle. The floor was white tiled marble, and clicked as their boots treaded across it. At the far end of the room (something of which Sarah could barely see) There looked to be a grand hearth, already ablaze. What was most notable was the overly large, overly long, dark wooden table that sat dominating in the smack dab center of the room. She tried counting the chairs as they walked past it. She got up to fifty seven by the time Jareth halted their stride, though she was sure she'd missed a few.

Sarah looked up. They were at the far end of the table, closest to the hearth. Jareth released her arm and pulled out a chair. Its slide across the marble echoed through the hall.

"Sit." He ordered, and rounded the corner to sit in the grand throne-like chair at the head of the table. Not wanting to be scolded by him, she did what she was told.

She sat in her designated chair and continued to gaze about the room. She could see smaller tables and chairs scatted amongst the pillars.

"So, what would you like to eat?" Jareth asked, and rested his forearms on the table as he leaned in to her. Sarah's back straightened.

"You're asking me what I want?" She asked, making it seem like he'd just hauled off and punched her in the face. Jareth huffed.

"It brings me such solace to know you think so little of me." He said mockingly, though there was a sharpness in his eyes. Sarah was silent, regarding him shrewdly. After a moment, Jareth sighed and rolled his eyes. "I don't know what you prefer to eat. So, if I bring you something I know you'll like, there will be no excuse why you can't eat it. Incidentally, accusing me of poisoning your food or drugging it is moot as well. If I wanted you dead, you would be. And if I wanted to get inside your head again, I would be. Now, I'll ask you again, what would you like to eat?" His stare was unmoving as he spoke. Sarah frowned slightly, and tried her best not to pout. He was scolding her again. Why did he make her feel like such a child? Why did he make her act like one?

"Fair enough. I'll have a cheeseburger. Oh, and you can stop chastising me at any time, you know." Sarah said, and eyed him coldly. Jareth's stern stare cracked up in a smirk, and without taking his eyes off hers, he raised a hand in the air and snapped his fingers. A moment later, a Goblin came scuttling through a servant door carrying a silver plater. It rushed over, bowed before Jareth, placed the platter on the table before Sarah, bowed once more and ran off. Sarah gave it a quizzical eye.

There was silence as Sarah brought her narrowed eyes from the once present Goblin to the platter before her, and low and behold there was cheeseburger and fries waiting for her. She almost smiled at it. How strange to be eating fast food in the Underground beside the Goblin King. She looked up to find Jareth staring her down intently, and the unsettled feeling returned. She wasn't very hungry anymore.

"Aren't you going to eat anything?" Sarah asked, drawing her brow suspiciously at the Goblin King. Jareth cocked his head to one side and grinned before reaching over to Sarah's plate. He continued to hold her stare while he plucked one of her fries and plopped it into his mouth.

"Satisfied?" He asked while brushing the salt from his gloved fingertips. Sarah wanted to scoff at him, but resided to simply turn to her plate and mimic him by picking at her pile of fries. It was awkward, having him watch her eat.

"Could I have something to drink, please?" She asked, trying not to look up at him -she failed. Jareth's smile broadened immensely.

"Since you asked so nicely..." He said, and not a second later he was holding a pitcher and pouring some kind of orangish liquid into a glass. She thought about looking under the table for the black top hat he must have just pulled them from, but abstained. She wasn't really in the mood to joke around with her kidnapper. Instead, she waited until he set the glass down on the table so she wouldn't have to take it from his hand.

"What is this?" She asked, curiously inspecting the strange liquid in her cup. After whirling it around once or twice, she glanced up to find him giving her an eye that said _-drink it and you'll find out_. She looked back at her cup and gave a mental shrug of the shoulders, tipped the rim of the cup to her lips and took a small swig. A second or two passed, before she slammed the cup down on the table. "Peach?! Seriously? Is this supposed to be funny?" She tried not to yell.

"Now, now, mind your table manners, Sarah." Jareth chided with a lopsided grin. Sarah gulped down the remaining liquid now boiling on her tongue. _Is he trying to be playful? What the hell? NO. No effing way. I am not playing dinner games with the man who threatened to burn my baby brother alive._ Sarah thought. She was so furious all of the sudden. Jareth sensed her boiling rage and tilted his head slightly, trying to understand why she was so unbelievably angry.

"I don't know what kind of game you're trying to play, but I won't be a part of it." She snapped. Jareth looked at her for a moment, and then his shoulders sagged slightly, and he shook his head from side to side.

"And here I thought we were having such a nice day." He mumbled to himself.

"Nice day? Nice day? You threw a snake at my face this morning!" She roared, her voice bounced back at her as it echoed through the hall. Jareth's head had been resting in his hand, and he looked up at her with a sideways smile.

"Oh, but you deserved that." He responded, tauntingly. It worked. The muscles in Sarah's ears flexed and a bubbling surge of vulgarity threatened to break free. Jareth cocked an eyebrow at her, reminding her of _why_ he had thrown a snake at her face in the first place.

"Not to mention the fact that I'm here as your hostage." She added, her glare gave him third degree burns. Jareth tried not to roll his eyes.

"I've told you, you're not a slave here." He said, exasperated. Sarah flailed her arms in the air.

"If I'm not a slave then let me go home!" She exclaimed.

"No." Jareth said, as if that would be the end of the discussion. Sarah flailed her arms again and then dropped them in her lap. She knew that argument would get her no where.

"And you were going to murder my entire family." She said, changing directions. Jareth's eyes quirked up at her, but she didn't notice.

"You're not going to let me live that one down any time soon, are you?" He asked, sounding...what was that she heard in his voice? Dreariness? Resentment maybe? It was too faint to tell. Sarah turned her head away from him and grimaced.

"No. Not ever. You're a monster. A sick, twisted, fucked up monster." She snapped, snidely, not caring for her vulgarity. He could go and stick it up his ass for all she cared at the moment. Jareth narrowed his eyes on her.

"Beauty to my beast." He muttered, low and cryptically. Sarah's shoulders puffed up and she turned her wide flaming eyes and pursed lip expression slowly to him in mortified horror. A very powerful, very loud and very angry retort was building in her chest, but just as it was about to come to surface there came an intruder.

* * *

  



	6. The Power Of Persuasion part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While unbeknown to her, Sarah has succeeded in obtaining the one thing the Goblin King has desired for hundreds of years -power over the Labyrinth. After being hidden for years from his diabolical wrath, Sarah finds herself alone and vulnerable as Jareth's dark desires are finally aloud to rear their ugly heads. As always, the only question is, are things really as they seem?

There was a loud pitter pattering across the marble floor, heading directly towards them.

"Sire? Excuse me, Your Majesty?" Came the raspy voice of a large Goblin, or a small Dwarf, she couldn't tell. Jareth broke his gaze away from the teetering inferno that was Sarah and looked down to the ragged creature.

"Yes?" He asked, secretly thankful for the diversion. The Goblin reached in his pocket and pulled out a tattered piece of parchment and handed it to Jareth.

"There's a disturbance in the Sulu District that needs your attention." He said, watching Jareth patiently as he scanned over the piece of paper. The fire in Sarah's mind started to dim when she saw his brow furrow, and bring his thumb and index finger to stroke his chin contemplatively. Regardless of Jareth, she hoped his subjects were alright.

"Very well." He said, and handed the paper back to the Goblin, who was quick to scuttle away with it. After a moment, he turned his attention back to Sarah, and was put at ease to find her no longer on the brink of a nuclear meltdown. "It would seem I'm being called away. We'll have to finish this conversation later." He said and stood from his chair. Sarah gaped at him for a moment. Should she stand too? "Feel free to finish your meal in my absence. In fact...I insist upon it." He added, glancing down at her with a wicked grin. Sarah held his gaze. "I'm not sure how long I'll be. As I said before, you're welcome to go about the castle; but for now I implore you stick to the sections I've already shown you -for your own safety." He annunciated the last bit.

"Bye." Sarah said sharply, letting him know she was still very much angry with him. Jareth regarded her for a moment and huffed, then turned wordlessly and vanished in a small cloud of sparkles. Sarah tried not to stick her tongue out at the spot where he had once been. Seriously, why was she acting so childish? Oh, that's right, because she knew he didn't like it. How...childish.

After a minute or two of grumbling, Sarah was able to regain her appetite and realized she was actually very, very hungry, and that it was just Jareth's looming presence that put her off. She stared at her empty plate as she licked her fingers. _Where did they even get a cheeseburger? _She wondered.

* * *

Time started to tick. Seconds, minutes, hours even? As Sarah sat alone at the vast dinner table. She rested her jaw on the heel of her hand and leaned over the table, precariously glancing around the room every now and then. She sighed, and tried to place the feeling that had taken hold of her. She felt...calm, sated even. Was she just that relaxed to not be in Jareth's company anymore? Surely she should be plotting some means of escape, or try to find her friends. At the very least she should still be angry, shouldn't she? She didn't feel angry... It was strange, a comfortable emptiness. She didn't like it.

Deciding she needed some kind of a distraction, she jumped to her feet and headed towards the door. Once again, the giant lumbering doors opened magically and ushered her into the hall. As she treaded down the vast halls, she was surprised at how much she actually remembered. She turned right around a corner and headed to where she thought the library would be. She remembered Jareth showing it to her, and he only had one (that she knew of) and boy how could she forget it. They were only in it for a couple minutes, but it had left a permanent imprint on her brain. She recognized the simple cherry wood door and felt a spring in her step as she approached it.

* * *

Jareth's library was unlike anything Sarah had ever seen. The room itself wasn't very large -compared to everything else in the castle. It was an ovular shape about thirty feet in diameter. There were dark cherry hardwood floors and quaint yet luxurious couches and chairs everywhere. There were three large open floor-to-ceiling windows that made up the far wall, and had a stone railing that would hopefully prevent any distracted bookworms from falling out. But, what made this room extraordinary, was the fact that there was no ceiling. The circular walls of the room were really giant bookcases that stretched too high for Sarah to see the end of. There had to be thousands upon thousands of books on those shelves. The thought brought a small flare of glee to her now otherwise dreadful existence. As Sarah looked around, she envisioned herself climbing one of the ladders just to see how high it really went.

* * *

She started to pace about the room, running her fingers along the spines of old and worn books as she went, and remembered Jareth saying that most of the books would automatically transcribe themselves to english so that she could understand. She'd asked him about the term_ most_, and he'd said that some books in here she wasn't meant to read. Being in here now, she wondered what that meant. Stopping in front of one section of shelf, she eanie-meanie'd her volume of choice, and landed on a very large, very dusty leather bound book. She coughed as she pulled it free, dust was spouting everywhere.

"Hmm...Lineage of the Royal Court. Ok, I guess that could be interesting." She mumbled to her self. Trudging with the ginormous book in both hands, she made her way to sit beside the railing of one of the windows. She paused from her book and looked out over the Labyrinth. Judging from the light of the sun, it had to be around four o'clock, maybe. Her eyes roamed throughout the dips and turns of the Labyrinth. "I wonder where the Sulu District is..." She wondered aloud, before turning her attentions away from the outside and back to her musky old book. "Page one, the first family: King Orpus..." Hm, this was going to be a long read.

* * *

Hours went by, and Sarah made note of the red glow blooming from the sun as it sank behind a faraway mountain. She'd dug a good chunk into her book, and had discovered quite early on that all it was was a giant family tree, just a list of names and such, no real details beyond that. She'd made it through about twenty or so different families, and from what she'd gathered based on chapter titles alone, there used to be a High King that ruled over all of the Underground, but when he died, he left no heirs, and so the lords and ladies divided up the kingdom into what it is today, and the land was now dictated by a council of sorts made up of eight or so kings and queens. She figured the book must be really old, because she hadn't read anything about Jareth yet.

"King Exelion, ruler of the Goblin Kingdom." Speak of the devil. _Ooh! Finally_. Her mind yelped, acquiring a new found interest in this incredibly long-winded book. "Betrothed to Lady Brassues of Yore. Bore one son, Fealon who ascended the throne. Betrothed to Lady Alira of Grassius, who bore one daughter, Emitherie. Later betrothed to Lady Seila of Yore, who bore three sons, Aros, Brachus, and Thealon. Thealon ascended the throne. Betrothed to Lady Aleigha of the Goblin Kingdom, who bore two sons, Jareth and Davion."

"Jareth has a brother?" Sarah exclaimed in a whisper. For some reason, she couldn't picture Jareth having family at all. He was an entity. A dark, menacing, sexual deviant of an entity. She blinked away the baffle and continued reading. "Jareth ascended the throne, betrothed to-" Sarah stopped reading, cut off mid-sentence by a sudden rustle from over her shoulder. She slammed the book shut and whipped her head around, alarm bells going off in her head. Was Jareth back? Would he be angry she was reading his family tree? She placed the book on the floor and stood, looking around the now significantly darker room. Her eyes caught on the intruder, and froze.

* * *

Standing no more than ten feet away was...a woman? Yes, there was definitely a woman in the room with her. She was tall and slender, every curve of her body screamed elegance. She had dark auburn hair that was done up in a cascade of falling braids. Her skin was pale, practically glowing, and she wore a shimmering gown that looked like it was made of golden insect wings. It was as beautiful as it was disturbing. As Sarah gawked, she noted that either the woman didn't notice her, or was purposefully ignoring her while she rummaged absentmindedly through a particular shelf of books.

"Um, excuse me?" Sarah quirked like a mouse. The woman's hand froze mid-stroke and she turned. Sarah's eyes widened. This woman, she was breathtakingly beautiful. She had full plum colored lips and shining hazel eyes that glinted just as much as her dress. She looked to Sarah and smiled a heart-melting, Hollywood smile. Sarah squirmed, feeling suddenly self-conscious of her less than feminine appearance.

"Oh, hello. I was wondering when you would notice me. You looked so engrossed in your book. I didn't want to disturb you." The woman said, with a voice as sweet as honey at that. Sarah's eyes darted awkwardly around the room. Who was this woman? And why was she in Jareth's castle?

"You've been waiting for me?" Sarah asked, eyeing the woman worriedly.

"Yes, for quite some time now." She said, and gave Sarah a perky smirk.

"You knew I was here? Do you know who I am?" Sarah asked, growing more and more cautious. The woman turned and paced towards a set of chairs. She ever-so-gracefully perched on the end and patted the cushion of the other.

"Yes. I've been looking forward to meeting you. Please, would you come join me?" She asked. Sarah looked around the room once more. This woman, she was so sweet. She couldn't be real, not in Jareth's castle. But not seeing any other option, Sarah surreptitiously patted over to the adjoining chair, and tried to sit just as proper as the woman had. It was very uncomfortable.

"Who are you?" Sarah asked, almost afraid to meet the strange woman in the eye. The woman eased back and continued to beam.

"I am many things, Sarah. But, most importantly, I am your friend. And you can call me Liana" She said, and placed a gentle hand on Sarah's to quell her knotting fingers. Sarah tried not to flinch away.

"How do you know my name?" She asked, feeling surprisingly comforted by Liana's gentle touch.

"I know many things about you, like the fact that you're not here of your own accord." She said, and gently squeezed Sarah's hand. Sarah felt herself relax further. What was going on?

"You know Jareth kidnapped me? Did he tell you?" She practically blurted, and her eyes widened anxiously.

"You could say that. I urged him against it, but the King does as he pleases." Liana replied with a reassuring smile. Sarah gaped suspiciously at the newly named Liana. Who was this woman? She told Jareth not to take her? Who was she that gave her such authority? Why did she feel so at ease all of the sudden?

"Do you know what he wants with me?" Sarah asked, pleading for an answer. Liana's expression turned suddenly sympathetic.

"That's not for me to say." She answered. Sarah looked down to her hands and frowned.

"You know what it is though? He's told you? You've talked to him?" Sarah asked, trying to piece things together, though she didn't have a clue as to what the puzzle was. Liana paused.

"Yes." She answered after a moment. Sarah furrowed her brow. _Who the hell is this woman? She knows Jareth, she talks to him. He's told her about me. She must know him well. She's in his library for Pete's sake. Who is she? Could she be... _Sarah gulped at her next thought, and looked up to Liana like a wounded animal. _She's not his wife, is she?_

"You said you're my friend? How do I know I can trust you?" Sarah asked, very much entertaining the idea that she was now in the presence of the Goblin Queen, and bewildered by the fact that she was as sweet as apple pie. She couldn't get over it. She was so beautiful, and so -not like Jareth. How could she be on Sarah's side? Did she know all the sexual threats he's made? Fuck, he had her pinned to the floor of the throne room! Sarah felt very, very uneasy. Liana frowned, as if sensing Sarah's rising panic.

"My fealty may be to Jareth, but my allegiance is to myself and by my own extension to you, Sarah. I know it's hard, but you can trust me. I swear it." And with that, Sarah was caught in the sparkling tractor-beam that was Liana's gaze and suddenly...she felt...better.

Sarah looked down to her hands again and saw she was reciprocating Liana's grip. What the hell was going on?

"I'm afraid...I don't want to be here. I thought..I thought he was different but -" She cut herself off, realizing she may be confessing her would-be feeling towards Liana's husband. "I'm afraid he's going to hurt me." She finished, and glanced up at Liana with full on puppy eyes.

"His Majesty can be difficult at times." She answered. Sarah blinked a couple of times.

"Difficult? He told me if I didn't come here with him he was going to make sure my family died in a horrible accident. My brother is only five!" She tried not to exclaim. Liana's eyes noticeably widened, and she stared on for a moment.

"So that's how he did it..." She murmured to herself. Sarah's brow drew.

"You mean he didn't tell you how he coerced me to come here?" She asked. Liana shook her head.

"No. I should have pressed him harder." She answered. Sarah's brow worried further. _She talked to him last night? After I was taken? Well, duh, because she's his wife. Of course she would have talked to him at night._ For some reason, the thought left a foul taste in her mouth. She felt dirty. "Sarah-" Liana quirked through Sarah's curious despair. "I don't know if this will bring you any comfort or not, but your family was in no danger." She said. All of Sarah's senses stood to attention.

"What?" She asked, shocked and abashed. Liana winced uncomfortably.

"Your family- they were in no danger of being harmed. Jareth...he acts impulsively, but he couldn't have harmed them. And even if he could have, he would never have marred a single hair on the boy." She said, testing Sarah's reaction. Sarah's heart and mind went numb. Her dad, Karen, Toby, they were never in any danger? Jareth was bluffing the whole time? No. NO. No way in hell she fell for one of his tricks.

"How do you know this?" Sarah asked offensively, her shoulders tensed.

"When you declared he had no power over you, that gave you a certain level of protection...that just so happened to extend to your family as well." Liana started to say, careful with her wording. She wanted so desperately to tell Sarah what was really going on. But the bind on her powers forbid it. There were rules she had to abide by. "When you agreed to come back with him, you willingly gave him power over you, and so the protection on your family was no more. Should you have refused against his threat however...there would have been nothing he could have done about it." She explained. Sarah thought on Liana's words, finally things started making sense. And then something clicked. _She knows what happened in the Escher room? She must be his Queen. How else would she know? Jareth doesn't seem the type to run off spouting the tale of the human girl that turned him down._

"It was just another one of his tricks? And I walked right into it. I did this to myself.." She muttered, despairingly. Liana scooted closer and leaned over to Sarah.

"He was counting on the love you have for your family, Sarah. In that moment you were protecting them, what else could you have done?" She said, trying to console her. Sarah clenched her jaw and scowled.

"I could have said no, and none of this would be happening." She mumbled through gritted teeth. There was a lengthy pause before she continued. "You said even if he could, he wouldn't?" She added, confused by that statement. Liana sighed.

"Like I said, His Majesty can be difficult...and quite ruthless at times, but he's not evil. He would never harm an innocent, or a child for that matter." Liana's voice was soft and full of compassion. Sarah's stare was horrid.

"How can you possibly mean that? He's a monster for even making such a threat, even if it was empty. He kidnapped me, is going to do God knows what with me, and you want me to believe he's not evil?" Sarah practically jumped from her chair. There was no way she was buying the whole _his bark is worse than his bite_ ploy.

"I'm merely trying to give you peace of mind, Sarah. He is a good king, and that is all that really matters to me." Liana replied, her voice turning a little frigid. Sarah frowned and slumped back into her seat. _Of course she thinks he's a good king. She's his wife, she should. Why is she being so nice to me?_ Sarah wondered.

"Why are you being so nice to me?" She asked, voicing her thoughts. Liana tilted her head slightly.

"I want to help you." She said. Sarah gave a sharp gasp.

"Help me? Can you help me escape?" She asked, sounding much more excited than she should have. Liana frowned.

"No. That I can not do. But this is a dangerous game you've wandered into, Sarah. I'm here to offer guidance...so that maybe you'll have a chance of evening the playing field." She said, fighting against the urge to tell her more. Sarah shook her head.

"How can I stand any chance against him? I'm nothing, a human. He has the power to do anything and everything. What can I possibly do to level the playing field when I don't even know what the game is?" She asked, completely and utterly exasperated.

"You can learn when to call his bluffs for starters." She replied. Sarah looked up to meet Liana's stern gaze.

"When it's a matter of life or death, it's hardly something I want to take a chance on." Sarah said, slumping her shoulders.

"For the sake of your own life, you'd better start." Liana replied. Sarah rested her jaw on both her palms and sighed.

"He said he would chain me in the dungeons and rip me apart if I ever told him he had no power over me again. Was he bluffing then too?" She asked, her voice started drifting away as she spoke. Liana frowned further. She didn't want Sarah to be in such distress.

"There are chances you must take, but the decision will always be yours." Was all she could say to that. Evil or not, Jareth was still Jareth -dramatic and short tempered. That was something Sarah would have to learn how to deal with. No matter who won this game, Sarah would never be able to go home. That much was certain.

"That doesn't sound very reassuring." Sarah murmured, and sagged further into her armchair.

"Not everything is as it seems, Sarah. Just keep your head about you, and learn to pick your battles." Liana replied with a humble grin. Sarah let out a long breath, easing away her worry. What was it about this woman's words, her very presence, that made her feel so -peaceful?

"Thank you, for the advice." Sarah mumbled, trying to sound as appreciative as she truly felt. Liana gave her a humble grin. "Liana? Can I ask you a question.." Sarah started to say, but was cut short when Liana suddenly jerked her hand away. Sarah looked up anxiously.

"I'm sorry. I have to go now." She said, almost hastily. Sarah scrunched her brow with confusion. "Jareth's coming. I don't think he'd be very happy to find me talking to you." She explained. Sarah sat up straight and looked back towards the door, very much concerned with Liana's reaction. "Until we meet again." She said, and stepped away. Sarah turned back to face Liana, but she was gone. _What the hell? _She wondered. _Why did she leave like that? Does she have Goblin King ESP or something? Did she mean he would be unhappy with her or me?_

Now very concerned, worried, and confused, Sarah scampered her way over towards the large set of windows. _Where did she go? Did she teleport like Jareth? _Her hands rested on the stone railing as she looked out over the Underground sunset, and felt something tickling her fingers. She looked down and saw a bright orange butterfly crawling along her knuckles. She raised her hand and held it in front of her face. _How pretty...and random. _She thought, and then it fluttered away. Her eyes followed as it blended into the orange haze illuminating the sky.

"I thought I might find you in here, with you dreaming of greek plays and all." Came a familiar accented voice. Sarah was glad for Liana's warning, otherwise she may have fallen out of the window from the surprise.

"Stay out of my dreams, Jareth." Sarah snarled and turned on a dime, and almost ran into him as she stomped away from the window. Both she and Jareth took note of the fact that she didn't flinch as she brushed up against him.

"You say I can't touch you, and now I have to stay out of your dreams? Sarah, you really are no fun at all. A man can only take so much." Jareth said, sounding just as eerily cheery as he had that morning. Why was he is such a good mood? Was he really still gloating over capturing her?

"What do you want, Jareth?" Sarah asked, sounding annoyed with his egotistic behavior. Jareth regarded her for a moment. She seemed different from when he left her somehow.

"There are many things I want, but for now I'll settle with finishing our tour." He said. Sarah looked out at the setting sun and frowned.

"It's getting dark out." She murmured. Jareth rose an eyebrow and turned to glance over his shoulder.

"You're sense of observation is keen." He said dryly and turned back to her. "Why so glum? Is it past your bed time, Sarah?" He asked, and his mouth curled on one side. Sarah tried hard not to glare at him. Was he trying to make her feel like a child on purpose? Liana's words about picking her battles came to mind, maybe she was right.

"No, it's not. But you said we'd only made it half way through, and I don't particularly want to wander throughout the castle all hours of night with you." She said with a firm stance, and though her tone was distasteful, her voice was calm and contained. Jareth's expression twitched at the way she held her chin high. She seemed...different...more confident now._What have you been up to?_ He wondered.

"We could do something else for all hours of the night, if you prefer." He retorted with a dark grin. Sarah's eyes widened at him. _Could he really be married? To the sweet pea that is Liana? What the hell is wrong with him? _She wanted to scream and lecture him on his obscene behavior, but held her tongue. Instead, she decided to make a stand.

"Depends on what you have in mind." Sarah said, quite effectively catching the hungry looking Goblin King off guard. His brows shot up at her challenge, and he took a step towards her.

"First, I think we should make our way back to your room." He said, languidly roaming his eyes up and down her front. Sarah gulped, and felt the urge to fold before he even got the chance to call her bluff. Before she could respond, he took her by the arm and led her out of the library.

* * *

"Now what?" Sarah asked, with her arms crossed over her chest as she watched Jareth close the door to_ her_ room behind them. Jareth slowly paced around her, watching from the corner of his eye. Something was definitely different about her, but he couldn't place his finger on what. The walk back to her room was quite unlike the walk they took during his tour. She didn't fight his grip on her. She was able to match his pace and didn't jump at the snap of a twig from the shadows. She seemed more at ease, not jittery at all like she had been. It took a skillful eye to pick up on these small, seemingly insignificant changes. But they were changes nonetheless.

"Are you hungry?" He asked, as if eyeing her up for circumspection. Sarah looked up at him questioningly.

"Didn't I just eat?" She countered, watching closely at the way Jareth stalked about the room.

"That was almost six hours ago, Sarah." He said, while eyeing a clock on the wall. Sarah turned. It was almost ten p.m. Geez, that _was_ a long read.

"I suppose I could choke something down." She said, and was successful in keeping her voice stale. Jareth narrowed his eyes on her. _I'll give you something to choke down... _His thoughts muttered. Why wasn't she fighting him anymore?

"Please, have a seat." He said, with false sincerity, and gestured toward the table and chairs in the lounge area. Sarah held her head high.

"Since you ordered so nicely." She snarked, and took a seat in one of the lavish chairs. Jareth cracked a smirk as he ground his teeth. Why was she making him so angry? Was it her_slightly_ more compliant behavior? "So, what's for dinner?" She asked after a moment. Jareth paused and raised his brow at her.

"A surprise." Jareth said, and with a wave of the hand a full course dinner and table settings appeared between them. He was waiting for Sarah to demand he tell her what he was feeding her, and became mildly suspicious when she picked up a fork and dug right in. Hmm...

Sarah was surprised at how calm, cool and collected she was being. She was still furious by all means, but something about her encounter with Liana made her feel...more in control. She felt grounded, like before she was in the white room -falling and couldn't stop, and now she had both feet firmly planted on the ground. She patted herself on the back for not arguing with Jareth. She could see how thrown off he was by it, and truth be told she felt like that in itself leveled the ground a little bit. It was nice to have her bearings again. Maybe now he would stop scolding her.

Turning her attention away from her pride and back to her food, she was equally surprised at how good it was -some kind of stewed meat and vegetables. She was vaguely conscious that she may be eating something most foul, but was too caught up in her own satisfaction to worry about it. A few minutes went by, and she felt an awkward silence creep over her. She looked up to find Jareth watching her like she might detonate and explode at any minute.

"So...you have a very large castle." Sarah said, for the sole reason that she couldn't take anymore of the straining silence. The drawback was that she had initiated casual conversation with her captor, the Goblin King.

"Yes." He agreed, and she could hear the pride in his voice. "We'll have to finish another day. We have the grounds to explore as well." He added. Sarah's eyebrows shot up for half a second.

"You mean I can go outside too?" She asked, failing to hide her brief flash of excitement. Jareth looked up to her, and gave her a small smirk.

"If I can trust you enough to behave yourself, then yes." He said, reverting back to child referenced insults.

"I think you have that sentiment backwards. I'm not the one who needs to be trusted." She murmured, and rested her jaw on the heel of her hand. Jareth's eyes flashed something dark.

"Elbows off the table, Sarah." He lectured. Sarah rolled her eyes lazily at him.

"We're the only two here, I think you can deal." She responded, dryly. Jareth's smirk stretched a little bit.

"I may remind you that you are in the company of a King, and speaking to one mandates a certain level of respect." He said, scoldingly. Sarah looked down from him and placed her fork on her plate.

"You've done nothing to earn my respect. And don't even bother reciting your whole _I have been generous_ spiel." She said with a blank expression, though her conscience was jumping up and down, she was so proud. She hadn't swore or raised her voice once. Jareth broiled in his seat. Memories from that night were not ones he particularly liked being thrown in his face.

"Where's the Sulu District?" Sarah quirked. She was growing more and more audacity by the minute. Jareth twitched fractionally, shattered from his impending brooding. He straightened his back and looked around the room.

"From where we're sitting...there." He said, and pointed directly behind him. Sarah looked on as if she might actually see it through the wall.

"I didn't know there were districts." She said absently. Jareth restrained his huff.

"Well, you weren't here very long the first time. So, I suspect there's a great deal you don't know about the Underground, let alone my kingdom." He said, and for some reason that made Sarah frown. He was right, she really didn't know anything. What had her friends ever really told her about the Underground? Not much. There was a whole world here that she didn't even know.

"The disturbance...it wasn't too bad I hope?" She asked, trying to picture what could be so bad it would require direct intervention from the King. Jareth watched her questioningly. She looked genuinely concerned.

"Nothing I couldn't handle." He said dismissively. Sarah looked down to her plate and resumed her meal, relieved almost.

"Good." She said. Jareth cocked his head a little, intrigued with her behavior.

"Why so concerned?" He asked. Sarah paused for a moment.

"Because I made a lot friends while I was here. The Goblins are good, caring people -quite unlike their King, and I would be very upset if any of them were hurt." She snapped. Jareth gaped for all of two seconds, before a smug sneer splayed across his face. "What?" Sarah snapped again. _Is he laughing at me again? What the hell is so funny?_ She was quickly becoming irritated again. Jareth continued to beam, then shook his head.

"Nothing. You're just...curious." He said, as if enjoying some private joke at her expense.

"Well, I'm glad you find my worry over the disturbance in the Sulu District curious." She snarled sardonically, and stabbed another hunk of meat. "What is this any way?" She called out, exasperated with his company. Jareth looked like he was on the brink of bursting into laughter.

"The disturbance from the Sulu District." He answered, like he'd been waiting for the punch line. Sarah froze, almost dropped her cutlery and grimaced.

"What?" She asked, horrified. Jareth shrugged nonchalantly.

"The disturbance- there was an Erestoran Bore running down a village near the border. It must have wandered in from the neighboring lands." He explained, as if that kind of thing happened often. Sarah gulped. _Ok, so it's a pig._ Sarah rationalized.

"And you killed it?" She asked, just for clarification's sake.

"It was demolishing entire houses, what else would you like me to have done?" He asked, a little bewildered and offended. Sarah shook her head.

"Um-no. I mean, how, I guess." She corrected.

"I cut its head off." Jareth said, fast and clipped. Sarah gulped again, trying to picture Jareth with a sword beheading a giant wild bore. For some reason, the image made her almost want to giggle -almost.

"Oh." Was all she could say. Sensing an opening, Jareth sought to change direction.

"Since we seem to be discussing the events of the day, tell me, how did you spend your time in my absence?" He asked, and leaned back in his chair. There was a quick moment of panic as Sarah thought over whether or not to tell him about her meeting with Liana.

"I rummaged through some of the books in the library." She mumbled hastily, and closed her sentence by pressing the rim of her cup to her lips. She winced and recoiled, what the hell was that? Jareth smirked at her discomfort.

"Not a fan of wine I take it?" He asked, amused. Sarah's tongue scrapped against her palate.

"Um, I've never really had wine before. I could have used a little warning first." She said, trying not to guck at it. Jareth let out a small chuckle.

"You'll get used to it." He said, and proceeded to down the rest of his glass. Sarah snarled at her cup. Was he really going to make her drink that? "Back to your day, did you discover anything of interest?" He asked, curious as to where she acquired this new demeanor. Sarah's eyes darted. Should she try lying to him? Would he know?

"I found something on the lineage of the royal families." She said, trying to conceal as much information as possible. Jareth's stare was stone.

"And?" He asked. There was a hint of menace in his voice.

"Well, from what I gathered, the Underground is ruled by a council of Kings and Queens? Are you on it?" She asked, trying to divert the conversation back to him. Jareth eased a bit.

"Yes." He answered, short and sweet. His eyes were locked on hers. Damn. He wasn't falling for it. Sarah bit the inside of her cheek before continuing.

"It listed all the descendants of each family...which leads me to something else that happened when you were gone-" She said, and took a deep breath. _Here it goes! It's all or nothing._ Jareth perked up at her hesitance. "I met a woman." She said, and winced as if someone had just ripped off a very painful band-aid. Jareth quirked an eyebrow.

"A woman?" He asked, sounding genuinely surprised. Sarah squirmed, hoping she wasn't about to get Liana in trouble; but she needed to know more about this woman. Maybe Jareth would give her some insight, or at least a reaction that inferred insight.

"Uh, yeah...she said her name was Liana..." She said, warily. Jareth's brow tightened. He leaned back in his chair, and brought his thumb and index finger to trail along his chin. She could see from the dark brooding aura beginning to pour from him that he wasn't going to say anymore. "She wanted to talk to me..." She added in a whisper.

"And what did my fair _Liana_ have to say?" He asked, annunciating her name with what registered to Sarah as annoyance. Sarah flinched. _My fair -yea, she's definitely something to him_.

"Just that she wanted to meet me." Sarah said, innocently. Jareth leaned forward, radiating tension.

"Anything else?" He asked, lightly, but the demand in his voice was evident. Sarah inched back in her seat. _Shit. He's really angry isn't he?_

"Um..not much. Just that everything you say is a lie." She said, and her voice sounded a little sharper. Jareth's eyes narrowed. The way he looked at her shouted that he was not to be toyed with. "You were never going to kill my parents were you? It was all just a bluff, another one of your tricks." She blurted out accusingly. Her voice became significantly more aggressive. Jareth blinked, and it was like half the tension pressing down on him just blew away.

"She told you that?" He asked, bemused. Sarah glared, and he sighed. "Since my darling Liana seems to have let the cat out of the bag - no, I never intended to harm your family Sarah." He said, sounding both reluctant and relieved to make the admission. Sarah felt her anger blooming, and yet at the same time she felt consoled, sated. Her innards felt like a paradox. She was so confused, what was going on? Why did she feel like this?

"She said you would never harm an innocent." Sarah said distastefully, as if the very notion was ludicrous. Jareth almost frowned, but recovered with a quick smirk.

"I don't kill for sport, Sarah. If I want someone dead, I would find a reason to kill them." He corrected. _Why would Liana say that to her? There must be a motive behind it._

"Then why would you say that?" She snarled. Jareth sat up and looked...what? Taken back? Uncomfortable? Whatever look it was, it didn't sit well on the Goblin King's face.

"I underestimated you once. I wasn't going to let it happen again. I had to make you an offer you simply couldn't refuse." He said sternly.

"You want to take me away and the first and most sure-way idea that pops into your head is to pretend your going to kill my family?" She exclaimed, exasperated and bewildered._What the hell kind of sick and twisted person is he?_ Jareth narrowed his eyes again, offended by her condescendence.

"I'm impatient...and -impulsive." He admitted, forcing the words past his vocal chords, though it was no secret. "I've waited a very long time to see you again, Sarah. I wasn't going to take any chances." He added.

"And you couldn't have...oh I don't know, swooned me or something? Been charming and magical and swept me off my feet? Didn't you ever think I would have come willingly if you had just made an effort?" She said accusingly, and immediately chastised herself for the hurt she heard in her own voice. Jareth's demeanor became stone and reserved.

"Swoon? I don't swoon women, Sarah. I am a King. I answer to no one and I take what I want. And I happen to want you very, very much." He rumbled. His voice became low and salacious as he spoke. Sarah's shoulders tensed, and her breath caught in her throat.

"Is she your wife?" Sarah blurted. The shackles on her nagging question exploded and sent mental shrapnel to the far corners of her mind in every direction. Jareth paused, and blinked. It was like someone had thrown a bucket of cold water on him. What?

"Who?" He asked, bewildered. Sarah choked down a breath.

"Liana. Is she your wife?" Sarah asked again. The silence between Sarah's questions seemed to stretch, and had the most sobering affect on the both of them. Whatever whirlwind they were just in had shattered in an instant.

"Liana?" Jareth said as if recovering some long lost memory. "Gods no. I couldn't bring that woman to heel even if I tried." He said, and looked up to the ceiling with the sheer absurdity of even asking such a question. Sarah slumped in her chair. _Oh. Well, I feel a little stupid now._ Her mind mumbled. She felt...so far away all of the sudden. Liana wasn't married to Jareth? Then who the hell was she?

"Then who is she?" Sarah asked. Jareth rolled his eyes back to Sarah, his brooding tension now replaced with haughty amusement.

"A nuisance." He said, and darted his eyes to the right as he thought of her. Sarah's brow continued to draw. Why did no one want to tell her who this mystery woman was?

"So, you're not married then?" She asked. Jareth raised her a challenging eyebrow.

"And why pray do you want to know that?" He asked playfully. Sarah tried not to grumble.

"Morbid curiosity, I guess." She said, and gave him a dismissive wave of the hand.

"No, not yet." He answered, low and ominously. There was something about his smile that brought Sarah to full attention.

"Not yet? You want to be?" She asked, not processing the words before they came out of her mouth. Jareth's lips continued to curl.

"Yes, very much so. And I will be...soon." He said, never taking his eyes off Sarah, who fidgeted under his dark gaze. _Soon? He's engaged then? To whom?_ She wondered.

"To who?" She asked, as if the name he gave would actually mean something to her. Jareth slowly eased forward, and laced his fingers as he placed his forearms flat against the table. He tilted his head to one side, and gave her the most lascivious of grins.

"To you." He said. And then Hell froze over.

* * *

  



	7. The Power Of Persuasion part 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While unbeknown to her, Sarah has succeeded in obtaining the one thing the Goblin King has desired for hundreds of years -power over the Labyrinth. After being hidden for years from his diabolical wrath, Sarah finds herself alone and vulnerable as Jareth's dark desires are finally aloud to rear their ugly heads. As always, the only question is, are things really as they seem?

Sarah's eyes exploded from her face and she actually jumped up from her chair.

"What? There is no way in Hell I am marrying you!" She roared, and pointed a nasty finger at him as she spoke. Jareth leaned back in his chair and twiddled his thumbs. This was going to be quite a show.

"Now, Sarah, I don't really think you have much of a choice at this point." Jareth said, keeping his voice light and airy. Sarah seethed until she boiled over.

"You said I'm not a slave here, which means I most certainly have a choice! You're telling me you kidnapped me because you plan on marrying me and making me your Queen? What the hell? Why? Why do all this?" She screamed, flailing her arms and moving to stand behind her chair for protection, though she wasn't sure if it was for his or hers. Jareth tapped his fingers as he stared at her.

"You're young, you're beautiful, and you're smart. You care for the wellbeing of my subjects. You're strong willed and as ludicrous as it sounds you have a level of rational and maturity that is expected of a Queen. Plus we have a shared history. In short, you make a suitable candidate." He said, as if closing a merger.

"And you had to kidnap me to do this? What ever happened to courting? Proposals? You realize that in your _impatience_ you've ruined any chance of ever getting what you want? Marriage is supposed to be about love, and you've made me hate you." She exclaimed, and the pain was palpable in her voice. There was a flash of a frown on Jareth's face, but he masked it by standing and taking a step around the table. Sarah backed away.

"As I said before, I take what I want. There is no consequence, and the opinion of others matters not. I want you. I'm going to marry you. I'm going to make you my Queen because that is my desire and it is as simple as that." He said, becoming increasingly offensive. Sarah continued to back pedal.

"My feelings really mean nothing to you? You would have me hate and resent you for the rest of my life for your own satisfaction? How can you be so selfish?" She asked, her anger was still present, but she was loosing her will to fight fast.

"Your feelings mean everything to me. But I have all of eternity to sway your heart and mind. You will come around." He said. And although there was a warmth in his voice, it registered to Sarah as empty and cold.

"No, I won't. You said my feelings towards you were irrelevant. Stay away from me." She said as Jareth stepped closer and closer.

"Then they have just become relevant." He said, and reached out to her. She jumped away. "Sarah, really now. There is no need to be so dramatic. Look at it this way.." He started, and paused once he stood directly in front of her. Sarah was panicking fast, there was nowhere left to go but the bed. "I'm giving you power, freedom, title and stature. You're already here, there's no changing that. Your situation could be far worse. You should be optimistic that I'm not locking you away as a slave like you once thought." He said, and stopped to let his words sink in.

Sarah took a time-out from her panic and processed her thoughts in a nanosecond. _Yes, ok, he's right. It's twisted, but he's right. My situation could be a hell of a lot worse than becoming the Goblin Queen. Ok, I'd would be his wife, I would be bound to him, but aren't I already? Like he said, he could lock me away and make me a slave...instead he's giving me luxury...and freedom (except from him of course). But, I would rule over his subjects, they would become my subjects. I could go see my friends, maybe promote them or something. I'd get to go to balls and see the world. Yes, keep listing pro's Sarah. Yes, luxury, freedom, extravagance, and sex with Jareth. Fuck! No. If I become his wife that means I'd have to have sex with him, -but I'd already assumed he would take advantage of me at some point anyway..._ Deep down in the unexplored depths of Sarah's psyche, her conscience's raunchy counterpart echoed that sex with Jareth probably wouldn't be that bad anyway. She batted her away with a mental flyswatter. She shouldn't be thinking of sex and Jareth at the same time, especially now -with him so close and all... What was it about him that made her so ravenous? Even in the midst of all her hatred, anger, and animosity, there was still a little part of her that nagged to know what he looked like with his shirt off. _I guess old habits never die.._ That couldn't be healthy, surely. She ended her thoughts there, not bothering to contemplate the accompanying prospect of having to bear his children. She'd come back to that horror another time.

"That's not the point. As comparatively better as my situation may be, you can't just force someone to marry you. It has to be consensual, with love and proposals and most importantly, the word YES." Sarah lectured, and jabbed her index finger into the open section of his chest. She was so naughty. Jareth stared down at her, all wide-eyed and ready to burst. He didn't remove her finger like he had on the track, sensing she was really doing it as an excuse to touch him.

"You want me to _ask_ for your hand? Is that it?" Jareth said with a laugh, and proceeded to take hold of the hand still jabbing into his sternum. "Sarah, would you be so willing as to consent to become my wife, lover and Queen of my lands for the rest of eternity?" He asked, sounding so haughty and charming. Sarah scowled and tried to pull her hand away.

"No." She snapped, and winced once his grip tightened.

"Let me ask again; Sarah, would you be so kind as to accept my offer to become my wife?" He asked a second time. Again, Sarah scowled.

"NO." She answered. The haunting grin on his face distracted her from the hand that had reached out to take hold of her free arm. She jerked and flailed as he separated her arms far and wide from her body. "Let me go!" She called out between grunts and gasps.

"With pleasure." He said, and released her hands.

Sarah tried to lower her arms, and panicked when she found herself unable to move. She looked up, and saw her hands were bound to thin air. She gritted her teeth and looked back to him. Fuck.

Jareth took half a step away from Sarah, and gave her a good and slow once over. Her chest heaved and she huffed and puffed through her nose. He smiled to himself. She was so riled. He approached her once more, and brushed the hair away from her face and neck. She tried to get away, but there was no where to go. He wrapped a hand behind her head and grasped her at the nape of the neck, and leaned in.

"We have all night." He whispered in a sensual hiss, and darted his tongue out to graze along her earlobe. Sarah shuddered and grimaced. "So I will ask you again, Sarah, would you do me the honor of becoming my blushing bride?" He rumbled into her skin, while leaving soft featherlight kisses down her neck. She closed her eyes and tried to pretend it was all just a dream -if only.

"I've already answered that question. No." She muttered, and dropped her mouth open when he pulled tightly on her hair.

"Wrong answer." He growled, and bit down on the soft flesh between her neck and shoulder. Sarah jerked away, and he brought his free hand to hold her jaw in place as he kissed a line across her collarbone. "We'll keep going until you've answered correctly." He said, and teasingly ran the tip of his tongue up the center of her throat. He pulled away and looked her straight in the eye. "You really want to play this game, Sarah? Because I will win." He said, dark and menacingly. Sarah pursed her lips and glared at him.

"I will not, in a million years, ever agree to marry you." She said and burned her eyes back into his. A broad snake-like grin spread across his face.

"Perhaps you can be fun after all." He said, and pushed down on her chin with his thumb, causing her mouth to fall open.

Before Sarah could breath, Jareth's mouth came down on hers. She was surprised from the initial contact, but was even more surprised with how it turned out to be like nothing that she had expected. Jareth's lips molded to hers with a skill only attainable from lifetimes of practice, and his tongue slowly and expertly curled in her mouth, urging hers to life. It was so slow, and -gentle. It blindsided her completely. His grip on her jaw was hard, and she suspected it was so she couldn't bite him, but other than that his kiss was sensual and soft. Quite unlike the rampage he'd gone off on in the throne room. The hand in her hair loosened, and moved to hold the side of her face. Sarah was almost lost for a moment -a moment that seemed to go on and on. She'd never been kissed like that before.

She stared at him, bewildered and on edge. His eyes were closed, and he looked completely lost in her mouth. Unwittingly, she felt herself start to respond. _Damn it! Why does this keep happening!_ Her conscience screamed, and was sucker-punched in the jaw by a fist reaching out from somewhere within the murky, yet to be discovered depths of her libido.

Jareth may have looked lost in the moment, but he knew exactly what he was doing. The moment he felt Sarah's shoulders relax and her tongue start to move of her own accord, he brought the hand holding her face down to her chest and brushed his long fingers and palm flat against her breast as he made his way down to her waist.

He broke his entrancing kiss, and moved to the corner of her mouth, trailing kisses up to her ear. She took a sharp breath and turned away from him, thankful she was free of his bewitching mouth. He then lowered the hand holding her jaw to join the other at her hips, and began slowly inching up the fabric of her shirt. No longer blinded by his expert tongue, she started to squirm.

"Sarah..." He whispered, and it was a sensual threat. She closed her legs tight together and squirmed. His hands were against her bare skin now. "Would you-" He started to say, but was cut off by a gasp from Sarah.

"No-" She yelped, refusing to give in. Her eyes were still clenched tight. Jareth smiled into her skin, and gave a rumbling laugh as his hands splayed and spidered their way up to her ribcage.

"You're very rude...I'll have to teach you proper etiquette at some point." He said, as he made his way to the hollow of her neck, and lowered himself as he approached the dip between her breasts. His fingers grazed her breasts just slightly. Sarah tried to jerk away, but only resulted in arching into him. One of Jareth's hands caught her movement and held her back to keep her arched up to him, and he dipped his tongue under the hem of her neckline. He breathed against her breast, and asked her once more. "Do you accept my proposal to become my wife?" He spoke into her skin. The tingle of his breath sent shivers down her spine.

"Never." She strained to say. The hand not holding her in place moved down and around her rear to rest at the junction of her thigh.

"Stubborn little thing, aren't you? If I didn't know any better, I'd say the reason you're saying no is because you want me to continue." His voice was muffled, and he pulled loose a tie on the front of her shirt with his teeth.

"No, I don't." She answered through straining grounded teeth.

"Prove me wrong then, and maybe I'll stop." He said, and his voice echoed a dark and hungry challenge. His hand tightened around her backside, and slowly clawed to her front, inching towards the apex of her thighs. Sarah's eyes snapped open and her whole body tensed. She drew a knee up, slowly. "If you kick me, I will restrain your legs as well -far and wide." He warned. She didn't relax, but she didn't continue to tense either. As his hand approached her center, his index finger trailed the waistline of her pants and hooked around it once he found the button. He pulled gently, and the stretchy fabric yielded. Sarah exploded. That was it. No more.

"FINE! FINE! You win! I accept!" She cried out, desperate and disgusted with both herself and Jareth. Jareth paused, his face was still nuzzled between her breasts.

"You accept what?" He asked, wanting her to say it for herself. Sarah huffed and puffed, fighting uselessly to get his God damn finger out of the waist of her pants.

"I accept your proposal to marry you and become your Queen." She said, frantic and exasperated. She could feel his smile against her skin.

In a flash, Jareth stood and suddenly any and all physical contact on Sarah was gone. He stepped back, and looked over his handy-work with the smuggest of smiles. She glared and slumped her shoulders.

"Splendid." He said, and then reached out to each of Sarah's magically suspended hands and pulled them free as if they were never restrained in the first place. Sarah wobbled on her toes. Her shoulders were kind of sore. Before she could offer up any kind of backlash, Jareth took hold of her face in both hands and kissed her -hard. She was helpless. When he let go, she was so caught of guard she almost fell back on the bed. "I couldn't possibly tell you how happy you've made me." He said. The sincerity in his voice scared her like nothing else. _Is he serious right now?_ He paused and took another step away from her._ Is he leaving?! Just like that? What?_

"You're leaving?" Sarah asked, dumbstruck. Jareth stopped and turned, a victorious smile had creeped across his face.

"As much as I would love to stay and argue with you, you've successfully proven me wrong in that you in fact do not wish for me to continue...tonight." He added the extra word for emphasis. Sarah blinked at him a couple of times.

"You're keeping your word?" She asked. Jareth lowered his head and gave her a condescending eye.

"Does that surprise you?" He asked, and then he was gone.

* * *

Jareth strolled through his chambers feeling even more victorious than he had the night before. Yes, she resented him now, but most of her hatred was forged out of sheer spite and the notion that she _should_. Regardless of her conscience, she couldn't deny her attraction to him, and he knew it. What was even more riveting was the fact that she knew that he knew. Her mouth might be saying no, but her body was more then saying yes. And to him that was half the battle. She would yield to him in time. First her body, then her mind. As he walked, he ignored the silhouetted figure leaning against a window.

"Two nights in a row? My, my, you must be getting lonely down in your big black hole." Jareth called out. "Have you come to give your congratulations yet, or are you here to offer me more words of wisdom?" He asked.

"You bid so much on so little, so early. You must be getting desperate." Said a familiar feminine voice, ignoring his initial statement. Jareth paused in his step.

"This is my end game, desperation is all I have left." Jareth muttered, his euphoria fading fast. The woman turned and perched on the edge of the windowsill.

"I'm surprised you admit it." She replied. Jareth strolled over to lounge in a nearby chair.

"You know the stakes as well as I, so there is no point in trying to mask my efforts." He replied, dryly. The woman stood and made her way across the room.

"If that were true, we would be under far different circumstances." She said, the light from the moon glinted off her dress. Jareth brought a finger to tap against his lips as he observed the woman's approach.

"Sarah thought you to be my wife -_Liana_. I wonder how she came to that impression." He said, rolling his tongue over her name. Liana stopped.

"She told you I came to see her?" She asked, a little on guard. Jareth relaxed into his seat and smiled slyly at the woman.

"You seem surprised -_Liana_. She was quite distressed. I can't begin to tell you how relieved she was to find out I am still a free man." He said arrogantly, again annunciating her name. Liana frowned. "Though I must admit, I was rather confused at first -with her calling you Liana and all." He said, and paused in his revelry to eye her intently. Liana squared her shoulders and gently stepped towards a small chair positioned relatively near the Goblin King.

"As I don't have a proper name, she needed something to call me by." Liana explained, as if the answer was obvious. Jareth nodded, and pursed his lips behind his index finger.

"Which leads me to my second concern, you failed to reveal to her your true identity." He said, and leaned in to rest his elbows on his knees. Liana's stance turned dominant, signaling Jareth he was on to something.

"I can't." She said, biting down on the T as she said it. Jareth's brow shot up. This was news.

"What do you mean, you can't?" He asked slowly. Liana darted her eyes away from him for a moment. Did she really want to reveal this knowledge to Jareth? After she left Sarah, she sorted through the emotions she'd received from her during their conversation, and compared them with her observations of Jareth and had come up with the beginnings of her own plan. But she was unsure, things were still developing. Could she take the chance? Well, it was kind of too late now.

"As of now, she is unaware of her powers and her control over me. It rests dormant within her and needs to be awakened. This is a journey she must make herself, I can not interfere in any way. I can not even reveal my true self to her. She has to figure it out on her own." Liana explained, hoping that the move she'd just made would inevitably pivot the course of where things were to eventually head -one step at a time. Jareth steepled his fingers in front of his lips to contain his smile. This just kept getting better and better.

"You really are powerless aren't you?" He asked rhetorically and then paused as a thought came to mind. "Why are you telling me this?" He asked directly.

"This is a game of strategy. You're not the only one who has a plan. Though the only difference between you and me is that you don't know what it is I truly seek." She said, and it was the ominous truth. Jareth narrowed his eyes a bit. The Labyrinth had no true allegiance to Jareth, but she wasn't his enemy either. They had an arrangement. She couldn't plot against him. At the same time, her bind to Sarah was not complete if her powers were dormant as she said, which meant she had no true allegiance to Sarah as well. Right now the Labyrinth was free, which meant it was plotting for itself, and that theory could prove to be quite troublesome.

"You told her I was unable to execute my threat against her family, was that a part of your plan as well?" He asked, curious for the reasoning behind that as well.

"I can sense her pain and distress, I only wished to ease her sorrows." She answered. Jareth looked down to the floor in thought.

"And?" He asked, darting his eyes up to her, awaiting her answer. Liana gave an inward smile, yes, her plan might just stand a chance after all.

"Her burden is lessened, though redistributed. Incidentally, you're no longer as evil as you strive to be." She said, conscious of how much she gave away. She didn't want to make him suspicious by revealing too much information.

"So she is warming up to me. Why would you help push her towards me?" He asked, with just a twinge of suspicion, but it hadn't come to surface yet.

"I told you, I only wished to ease her troubles. It was an unavoidable consequence. Don't let your arrogance fool you, My King. She isn't warming up to you, I'd say she's merely thawing to room temperature -a neutral indifference." She said, making the point that it was not her intention to make Sarah like him more. With his fingers still steepled, Jareth began to tap his index fingers in a precise and timely rhythm.

"One step at a time...What else have you done to ease her troubles?" He asked, cryptically. Liana tensed, and drew her brow. She stared down at Jareth, who looked to be lost in thought.

"I don't know what you mean." She said, genuinely unsure of what he was getting at. Jareth looked up suddenly.

"Don't think I didn't notice. This morning she was frantic and jittery, whining and clambering on like a child throwing temper tantrums left and right. After she spoke with you she was -calmer. Less errant and more reserved, more calculated and precise. For a time anyway." He said, thinking back to her outburst over their engagement. He didn't notice the sly smile that curled his lips. "Something's changed in her, how ever subtle it may be. I want to know what." He demanded, and moved his hands to the arms of the chair as if he was readying himself to stand. The Labyrinth took in Jareth's words, and then it clicked. She didn't think he would notice Sarah's shift so soon. It had hardly begun. Hmm...this could go either way.

"Her magic has been separated from its source for far too long. The longer she stays in the Underground, the more acclimated she will become. And the more contact she has with me, the stronger and more stable her spirit will grow. Though whether or not she accepts it is still her decision" She explained.

* * *

Although it seemed Liana was giving everything away, she had purposefully left out one or two small details, like the fact that the closer she bonded with Sarah, the sooner her powers could be released. Sarah was feeding off of the Labyrinth's energy though a straw in the Aboveground, now that she was here, Liana had the ability to exude all of her energies onto her with no restraints. While Sarah could unlock her powers on her own, if Liana's initial plan looked like it may fail, she could spur Sarah's awakening for her -Even though Liana truthfully couldn't reveal anything to Sarah, emitting enough energy into her would cause her to start noticing things, help her to figure it out- and that would crumble Jareth's plan in his tracks. Once she held the power of the Labyrinth, Jareth wouldn't be able to place a single finger on her. She'd bent the truth a bit in her explanations to Jareth, but then again, he should expect as much. Of course, that was all just as a last resort. She preferred her original plan much more, though it may prove to be significantly more difficult.

* * *

Jareth kept his eyes hard on Liana, testing the authenticity of her words. _If Sarah's very presence in the Underground will help her to acclimate faster, she may get over her cooing for the Aboveground sooner as well. And then we can finally move on...this could work in my favor._ He thought. But everything had its draw back, and nothing was ever as it seemed, especially when dealing with the heart of the Labyrinth.

"I have an inkling that you're not telling the whole truth." Jareth said, and eyed her suspiciously. Liana gave him a dismissive sideways glance.

"Take my words as you may, but their truth lies with Sarah." She said, satisfied that her answer was just vague enough. Jareth eased back, she wasn't going to tell him any more. She then rose from her chair and turned, and took a few steps towards the window.

"Before you go, let me announce to you my official betrothal to the delightfully bullheaded Sarah, as she has verbally accepted my offer to become my bride." He called out, eager to get the last word. Liana stopped and turned.

"Is that why you're being so arrogantly smug this evening? I found myself wondering what you were doing to her while I was waiting for you. I could sense her -excitement- on the matter." She called back, disapprovingly. Jareth rubbed his thumb along the pads of his fingers as he relished the memory.

"So could I." He said proudly.

Liana looked to the floor and shook her head, and then wrapped her arms around herself. She started to glow, and when she opened her arms they had morphed into magnificent wings. In a brief twirl and flash, the stark elegance that was Liana was no more. Left in her wake, was the simple luminosity of a pale glowing butterfly. It fluttered about the room, trailing streams of light behind it, before it glided gracefully out the window and into the sky to join the many stars that scattered the Underground night.

  



	8. Something Deeper part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While unbeknown to her, Sarah has succeeded in obtaining the one thing the Goblin King has desired for hundreds of years -power over the Labyrinth. After being hidden for years from his diabolical wrath, Sarah finds herself alone and vulnerable as Jareth's dark desires are finally aloud to rear their ugly heads. As always, the only question is, are things really as they seem?

Chapter 6, Something Deeper

* * *

The air was warm, and vibrated with the pulse of a quickening heart beat. Sarah opened her eyes, but couldn't see, not right away. The room was hazy; red and pink puffs and swirls churned around her. Room? No, not a room per say, but a place. She closed her eyes again and stretched her body. She felt...so warm. There was a twinge in her abdomen, like a ball of pure energy was erratically growing and pulsing inside of her. She welcomed it, and arched her back so the feeling intensified. She curled her legs, but they wouldn't close. She rose her arms above her head and wiped away the hair from her face. Her eyelids felt heavy, weighed down by the pressure and heat around her. She forced them open, but she couldn't focus on her surroundings.

She felt a pull in her stomach, causing her to jerk away, but found herself held in place by a more intense pressure. She felt -contact. She peered down her body, still mostly covered by blankets, and was able to make out a mound within the fabric. She pushed her hands into the plush underneath her and tried to move away once more, only to be met with the same result.

She reached for the blanket and started to push it down her body. Suddenly, the mound started to move, and the twinge in her stomach flared again, making her buck up into the pressure on her stomach. Her mouth dropped open from the sensation. She held the blanket at her waist, too distracted to continue moving it down. Her eyes narrowed, or widened, she shouldn't tell, when the ruffle over her stomach started to move and the tips of pale fingers began to crawl out from under the fabric. She thought she gasped, but she just couldn't seem to focus. The fingers became a hand, and soon the mound began to stir. She felt the twinge leave her body, and felt an emptiness from its absence. The mound of blanket rose and burgeoned until a now exposed forearm reached up and pulled it back.

Her waist tickled. Light blonde wisps of hair dangled and pooled around her torso. She tilted her head slightly, observing. She felt drops of heat moving up the center of her belly, and squirmed. Her eyes slowly began to adjust to the haze, and she gasped again as the pale yellow puff rose to reveal two pale blue eyes and a wicked grin.

The hum in the air started to settle. She heard herself gasp and she jerked away when Jareth started crawling up her body. She pushed herself down into the bed as he loomed over her, nose to nose. His eyes scanned hers, hooded by the same haze that filled the air. His smile was haunting.

She stared up at him, too dazed to feel confused, and could only watch as her mind fought to catch up. Her eyes flicked down from his face all the way down to where the blanket pooled around his hips. His torso, his arms, his hands were bare. She marveled at the way his skin glowed; but then again, everything around them glowed. She brought her eyes back to his, and open her mouth slightly as if to speak. But no sound came. She felt...lost. _Where am I? What is Jareth doing here?_ She felt the familiar fire of anger, but it was a receding wave drifting off in the distance. She felt so -hollow, like all her emotions were being barricaded from reaching her, yet she remained aware of their presence. Her stupor left her helpless as Jareth lowered his head and claimed her lips with his.

At first, there was nothing, no reaction. But, as his lips moved and molded to hers, she registered that hers were in fact moving and molding to his. There was a crack in the damn between her mind and her emotions, and a sliver of true consciousness broke through. She brought her hands up to push him away, but were easily subdued when his clamped around her wrists and held them down. He deepened the kiss and curled his tongue around hers. Sarah took in a sharp breath. The crack in her dam was spreading, and was slowly bringing her back to herself. She tried to pull away, but had no where to go. She pulled against his grip on her arms, but met no avail. She wriggled beneath him, and tried not to notice the spark that flared when their stomachs touched.

"Jareth? What -are you -doing." She managed to snarl between gasps for air. She was gaining more and more control of her body, and fought harder against him. Jareth remained silent, but moved his hands from her wrists to lace his fingers with hers, and brought both their arms above her head. "Jareth- get. off. of. me." She said and made move to bite down on his lip. A low rumble of laughter radiated from the back of Jareth's throat. He pushed his hips into hers, and welcomed the pain of her teeth against his flesh.

Sarah pulled against his hands. She was worried now. She'd bit down on him to what she thought would cause extreme pain, but he didn't flinch, nor pull away. Actually, he kissed her harder. She could taste his blood in her mouth, and could feel him pressing against the apex of her thighs. That was when she realized they were both naked beneath the blanket.

"Jareth. Stop." She said, her voice was a little louder now. She pulled harder and harder against him, but his body engulfed her completely.

He shifted so that he held both her hands with one of his, and brought his now free hand to hold her jaw in place, making it harder for her to speak. She snarled and jerked against him, and tried hopelessly to pull herself from his hold. The hand holding her face moved down to wrap around the side of her ribs, and molded to the contour of her waist as it traveled down to her hip.

Sarah continued to struggle and flail as his hand moved to grip the junction of her thigh, and pushed her legs open further.

"What are you doing?!" She managed to squeal, and flailed her entire body against him.

"Don't fight me, Sarah." Jareth murmured against her lips. The sound of his voice was the last crack in her wall, and sent the whole thing crumbling down.

She started fighting him frantically then, using all her might to break free. His strength was inhuman, and only caused her panic to rise.

"Get off of me." She growled. Her flailing was becoming violent now.

"You have so much energy..." He murmured again, and pressed his hand down on her thigh to hold her in place, and continued to push himself against her. "I can give you...release." He added. Sarah groaned and huffed as she fought. Her eyes burned fury into his, but he seemed completely unaffected. He removed his lips from hers, and turned his head to nip at her ear. "I know...why you're fighting me, Sarah." He said, and kissed the pot behind her ear. Sarah grimaced and darted her head away.

"Jareth, please. Stop." She tried again. The hand on her thigh moved suddenly, and she felt through his shifting that he was positioning himself at her entrance. Her body reacted first, and unleashed all Hell on him in an attempt to get away. "STOP! Get off of me! Jareth!" She shrieked. Her body developed its own inhuman strength as she fought with all she had to the point where it became a struggle for him to hold her down.

She felt him resting -waiting- at her entrance, and did all she could to shake him off. Sensing she was about to break free of his hold, he brought both hands to hold her arms down on either side of her face, while simultaneously easing himself inside of her. For a split second, everything froze. Then there was a snap in the air.

Sarah gasped and groaned, with both anger and -something else. Jareth closed his eyes briefly, savoring the moment, and gave a low moan as he sank deeper and deeper until he was fully buried in her. There was pure and utter disbelief in Sarah's eyes as she realized what was happening. He pulled out slowly, and just as slowly thrust back in, and gave her another muffled moan as he did so.

Something exploded in Sarah. It wasn't panic. It wasn't fear. It wasn't even sorrow or pity. It was rage, pure, animalistic rage. A cauldron of fire, anger and murderous intentions boiled over and spilled out her eyes. She shrieked, and growled through gritted teeth as she fought, not to escape him, but to attack him. Jareth's eyes darkened, and a sly smile curled one end of his lips. He reared over her, and held her hands firmly as he slammed inside her once again, and again, and again. There was a shroud in his eyes, a challenge, like he was testing her, -like they were playing a game. Sarah fought and fought, but her arms were useless, as were her legs, and he kept himself above her just out of reach from her head and teeth. He continued to groan as he moved in and out of her, taunting her.

Suddenly, he lowered his body to lay flat against her, allowing him to move deeper than before. he nestled his head against her neck and bit down. Sarah growled, extremely frustrated with both Jareth and herself. The more she fought, the harder he bit, but she didn't care, just as he didn't care when she bit him. For some reason, Jareth let go of her hands then and brought them to pin her hips in place as he picked up his rhythm. The feeling was sharp, and decadent. She dropped her mouth open on instinct, and another flare of rage bloomed from her own reaction.

The moment her hands were released, they flew to his chest and started pushing against him. He wouldn't budge, so she moved them to knot in his hair and try to pry him from her neck. He growled when she pulled his hair, but still her efforts were futile. With no other option, she returned to trying to push him off and dug her fingers in to his shoulders. She felt her nails sinking into his flesh until they drew blood, and still there was no significant reaction from him.

"Jareth-" She called out, exasperated. He moaned at the sound of his name on her lips, and hooked his hips into her hard. She gasped, but managed to keep any other sound trapped in her throat. She would not give him the satisfaction. "Get the fuck off of me!" She finally roared, and pushed him with all her might.

Something changed in Jareth's demeanor then. It was brief, only a flash, but she caught sight of it. He released his hold on her neck, and in a blur, brought his hands from her hips to tear her hands away from his chest. Before she knew what was happening, she felt herself being pulled. When her eyes caught up, she realized Jareth had rolled her on top of him. She glared down into his eyes, with rage, hatred, and confusion. He said nothing, and only returned her fiery stare.

The sound of Sarah's heart pounded and pulsed through the air as they stared at one another, challenging, testing. He still held her wrists firmly to the bed, though his body was motionless. The temperature in Sarah's body rose and rose, but she couldn't react. Her conscience screamed at her to run away, to jump off of him and maybe even attack him, but the burning heat clouded the sound. She had so much energy, she couldn't think straight. He was right, it needed a release.

Through the midst of Sarah's turmoil, Jareth decided to act. He moved his hands from her wrists, and laced his fingers with hers. His hold was light, and submissive -giving her control. Sarah dug her nails into the back of his hands. She felt like a chained lion just a hair's width away from clawing through its victim. The tension was agonizing. She wanted to rip him apart, she wanted to run away. For a moment, she teetered on the edge, caught in a place where she knew nothing but instinct, raw and pure; and behind it all lay a blooming intensity somewhere deep in her abdomen as Jareth continued to throbb and pulse inside her.

Jareth kept his eyes locked with hers, wordlessly communicating his challenge to her, and waited for her to react. Suddenly, she ripped one of her hands from his, not knowing if it would actually work or not and thrust it down on the base of his neck. She wanted to strangle him, but still he remained motionless. Her fingers curled into his skin and actually trembled from the restraint of her fury. The beat of her heart became a prodding metronome, nagging her. Her chest heaved with frustration, but her urges were all melting into one. She needed control.

Her fingers tightened and twitched over Jareth's clavicle, as slowly, and begrudgingly, she lifted herself and rolled her hips. Jareth drew in a long, hard breath. His ears tensed, though he tried his best to remain stern, and maintained the pull their gazes had on one another. Sarah was quiet, and stared daggers into him as she lowered, then raised her pelvis again. She repeated this motion, slowly, again and again, gauging his reaction and her own. She was so angry, so frustrated, but for some reason, she couldn't stop herself. She had so much emotion but nothing to direct it on but Jareth.

She shifted to rest her weight on the hand she kept at the base of Jareth's neck, and continued to rock astride him. The hand laced with his tensed and trembled, as she tried her best not to let herself feel any pleasure.

Jareth made to move his free hand, but Sarah caught it and held both his hands down, forcing herself to lean over him. Her dark tresses swirled with his light ones and framed both their faces. She focused on her anger, and on the control she now had. She didn't question that it was control that he had given her and could easily take away. She ground her teeth and thrust herself down on him harder. Jareth gave an involuntary flinch of pleasure, and broke eye contact for just a second. When his eyes settled on hers again, they were softer, hungry and -appraising?

Suddenly, Jareth sat up, and allowed Sarah to keep his hands in place as he brought himself nose to nose with her. She gave him no reaction, and simply carried on with her undulations. Jareth's chest rose and fell faster and faster as he held himself back from her. Their faces were so close, their lips just out of reach. Before the build could threaten to boil over, he brought his hands to her hips, and rocked them harder, sharper. She kept her hands on his upper arms, and did her best to keep her mouth closed.

Testing her limits, Jareth leaned forward and began gently nipping at her collarbone. Sarah rolled her head, then pushed him back.

"Don't touch me." She snapped, implying that she meant his mouth specifically. Jareth tilted his head ever-so-slightly. There was a spark in his eye and a small creeping grin spread across his lips.

Completely ignoring her, or rather reacting oppositely, he rose his hands to hold her back as he bit and kissed along her neck, savagely. Sarah snarled and clawed at his arms as he shifted to sit on his knees. He held her up and started thrusting into her once more. He moved so fast, twisting and hooking himself until she couldn't fight it anymore. She rolled her head back, and let her mouth fall open so she could let out a moan. It was small, barely audible, but it was there. Jareth smiled into her skin and pounded harder.

* * *

"Mmm..." Sarah moaned, just loud enough to cause her to stir. She scrunched her eyes tight before opening them, and snarled as she realized it was all just a dream. She blinked, and roamed her eyes from side to side and nearly jumped out of her skin when she realized what she was doing.

"Well, well, you're a feisty one." Jareth rumbled with a laugh. Sarah's eyes bugged out of her head and her face burned a deep red. She did a quick once over of herself. She was laying in bed, cuddled around Jareth -again. One of her hands had snuck under the hem of his shirt, while her legs had hooked themselves around his. It was then that she realized she was grinding herself against him. Instead of panicking and making a scene, she sought to compose herself fast.

"I told you to stay out of my head." She snapped and withdrew herself from him. Jareth raised an eyebrow at her.

"Why Sarah, I have no idea what you are talking about." He said, and let all his amusement show in his voice. Sarah brushed the hair away from her face, and scooted a little farther away from him.

"Stop fabricating my dreams." She clarified. Jareth tilted his head and gave her a very knowing eye.

"Sarah, you know as well as I that I had nothing to do with the creation of that particular dream. All I had to do was walk in and press play." He said, haughtily. Sarah narrowed her eyes at him, and tried to use her anger to over power her embarrassment. "Though, you didn't fight so fervently in the original." He added. Sarah scoffed.

"Oh, I wonder why?" She asked, rhetorically. "You just dream raped me, were you expecting me to just lay down and take it?" Jareth grinned at that.

"If I'm not mistaken, I believe you responded in kind. You were making some lovely sounds in your sleep, by the way. I hope to hear them again, soon." He said, and crossed his legs at the ankle.

"Just because you can manipulate my dreams doesn't mean they have any standing in reality. So, I assure you, you will never hear those sounds the way you are obviously implying them." She countered, and was pleased with her own resolve. _Why is he here? Is he going to show up in my bed every morning?_

"You sound so sure of yourself. Fear not, I'm not going to bother arguing with you, I've been in your head enough times to know otherwise." He said, dryly. Sarah glared. _Of all the arrogant -self indulged -high handed -urrrghhhhh._

"You have some audacity. You know nothing about me." She almost yelled. Jareth rolled his eyes.

"As I said, I will not argue with you." He said. His lack of opposition left Sarah on a ledge. She huffed and glared away from him. Why did he have to be such a scoundrel?

"Is there a reason for all this? Or do you just enjoy trying to mess with me?" She asked, and gave herself a mental pat on the back for not swearing. Her thoughts were screaming XXX all the while.

"Now, that would be telling." He said, and gave her a lopsided smile.

"Do you think this is funny?" She asked him, appalled by his gall.

"A little." He said, and gave her a pouting smile when her glare intensified. "Oh, come now, Sarah, you make it only too easy." He said, and brought his hand to is mouth. She almost fell back off the bed when she saw there was blood on his fingertips. "Mmm...feisty." He added, and gave her the most wicked smile she had ever seen.

"What- I? I thought that was just a dream! You? We didn't?" She stumbled over her own tongue. Jareth's smile grew, if at all possible.

"No, think of it as something like a...lucid dream." He said, and ran his tongue along the inside of his lip. Sarah stared at him -horrified. _What does he mean, lucid dream? We didn't actually have sex? But he has my bite mark? What? _She barely noticed when he reached out for her hand. "Come here." He said. His voice was soft, but the command was evident. Sarah pulled away.

"No. You and your arrogance will stay away from me." She said, and made a move to climb off the bed. She shouldn't have turned her back on him. Jareth's eyes sharpened.

"I told you to come here." He said again. His voice was lower, rougher. He reached out across the bed and clamped down on Sarah's wrist. She jerked away instinctively, but he pulled her back so she fell on the bed. "You should be a little nicer when you speak to me." He said, and the anger in his voice was almost palpable. Apparently his good cheer was on short reserve.

"No, I shouldn't. Let go of me." She said, clipped and precise -just incase he didn't understand. Jareth sighed, and pulled her further. He then shifted on the bed so he was laying on top of her. He took hold of her other arm, and glared his pale blue eyes into hers.

"I am growing tired of these demands, Sarah." Jareth warned. Sarah took a deep breath, to stop herself from exploding on him.

"Would you like me to feel sorry for you?" She asked, snidely. She knew she would be better off toning down the sarcasm with him, but damn it he riled her so easily. Jareth's eyes narrowed further and his mouth formed a hard line.

"No. But, I don't think you fully understand your position in all of this, beloved of mine. Allow me to explain it to you further." He said, and used his knee to pry apart her legs so he could nestle between them. Sarah held her ground, but couldn't help but be a little intimidated by the parallels this drew to her dream. His hands twisted around her wrists, but were careful not to cause her pain.

"I'm not your beloved." She corrected. Jareth gave her a dastardly smile.

"Oh yes you are." He retorted, and pushed himself against her. "Make no mistake, Sarah, My Love, it is by my good grace that I allow you to defy me. Continue to disrespect me and I may take that privilege away. I am enjoying this game you insist we play, but come our wedding night -you will submit yourself to me." He said. His voice was stern and unwavering.

"So, you are going to rape me then." She wasn't backing down from this. Jareth's eyes softened just a tad, he looked amused now.

"No." He said. Sarah waited for him to go on, but he remained quiet. She noticed his thumbs were stroking along her wrists as he held her down.

The silence began to grow awkward. The unsettledness downed out her anger, something that she was secretly glad for as she knew her temper would only result in something sour for her. She darted her eyes quickly, not wanting to meet him in the eye and she sighed in defeat.

"Could you let me go?" She asked, entertaining the thought that maybe he would listen if she didn't _demand_ as he called it. His eyes lowered for a moment.

"That depends. Have I made my point yet?" He asked. He sounded irritated, though his hold on her arms loosened substantially. She pursed her lips and glared off to the side, swallowing her pride.

"Yes." She choked out. Not a moment later, Jareth was off of her and pacing around the bed. Sarah sat up, completely thrown with the way he could swing his moods so radically.

"Come." He ordered. Sarah pulled her knees up, and looked around the room. She was still in her night gown.

"Shouldn't I get dressed first?" She asked, trying to give a reason for her hesitation. Jareth paused and turned.

"It can wait...I've brought you breakfast." He explained, thinking that maybe if he just told her it would skip the inevitable fight over it. Sarah looked away from him, as if testing the truth of his words. After a moment, she climbed down from the bed and patted across the floor.

It was cold this morning, with the absence of the bed. Her night gown only went to about the knee, and she shivered as a draft caught her ankles. Jareth paused in his step again as he watched her.

"Are you cold?" He asked, and was apparently full of nothing but concern. Sarah frowned, and furrowed her brow a little.

"I'm fine." She said, and continued on her path towards the sitting area. Jareth walked passed her, towards an armoire. Sarah's curiosity couldn't help but follow. She watched as he opened the doors and selected a garment from it as if he knew its confines like the back of his hand. He draped whatever it was over his arm, and closed the double doors. Sarah teetered on her heel, unsure of his actions, and waited as he stepped towards her again. He moved to stand behind her, and draped a long robe over her shoulders. She brought her confused gaze to the floor as she lifted her arms to shrug it on. He paused behind her for a second or two, and lightly squeezed her shoulders. The moment was surprisingly intimate. She didn't understand -how he could threaten to take her freedom away one minute and be all nurturing and tender the next. It threw her for a loop to say the least. His hands lingered a little longer, until he finally stepped away and proceeded her into the sitting area.

Sarah followed warily, and watched him as he breezed through the room and gracefully took his seat at the small dining table. He seemed to be in a perfectly good mood again, right after holding her down and sexually threatening her. _Is he bipolar or something?_ She didn't understand. His behavior frightened her. If he was going to be cruel and vicious, then he should be cruel and vicious, not bounce back and forth between that and...what, normalcy? Compassion even? Maybe it was just a part of his fucking with her, mind games and all. Needless to say, being around him felt like dancing through a mine field. _And I have to marry him..._ The thought rang like a bell in her head. Fuck. She'd forced herself not to think about it, and try to be practical about the situation. So, for now, she'd just try to forget about it all together. She wasn't ready to handle that little elephant in the room quite yet.

She perched on the edge of her chair, and waited. There wasn't any food on the table.

"So, what would you like?" He asked, and beamed at her from across the table. It was this very behavior that frightened her most -when he was actually being nice and cheery. It was ironic that it was this that scared her, and not when he was about to rip her apart.

"Uhhmm-" She said, and darted her eyes from one side of the room to the other. Jareth raised an eyebrow at her. "I can have anything?" She asked, and winced as if he might strike her down or something.

"Anything that you will eat." He replied, and stressed the word _will_. Sarah pursed her lips at the bare table. One day at a time. One hour at a time. One encounter at a time. That would be her new motto. If she could make it from one to the next, she might just make it out alive and with most of her sanity still intact. _Pick your battles... _Her thought murmured. Just the thought of Liana helped her settle. She wondered when she would see her again.

"I'd like eggs -scrambled, bacon, sausage, home-fries, blueberry pancakes and a side of french toast...with a glass of orange juice, please." She said, and lowered her eyes a bit when she realized how long her list was, and saw how taken back Jareth looked by it.

"Are you going to eat all that?" He asked. Sarah shrugged.

"I play a lot of sports...so I'm used to a hardy breakfast...I guess." She said, and actually sounded a little bashful by it. Jareth shook his head, like he was on the verge of laughing at her, and swooped his arm over the table. A dish of everything Sarah had wanted was left in its wake. She scanned over it slowly. It looked just like everything Karen would make. The memory made her frown, but at the same time, it was a small part of her old life that she was able to retain. She was a little thankful that Jareth allowed her to pick their food, and didn't make her eat whatever the Underground cuisine had to offer, but she would never tell him that.

Jareth saw the way she was frowning at her food, and was about to interject into her thoughts, but she raised her hand and took hold of her fork just in time. She peeked up at him as she ate. He was just staring at her again, like in the dining hall. Did he eat? Or did he just not like Aboveground food?

"Would you like anything?" She asked, sounding a little weirded out by him. Jareth smiled.

"No. thank you, Sarah." He said. His smile beamed onto her. Why was he in such a damn good mood all of the sudden? She reached down for a piece of bacon, and swirled it around in the syrup from her pancakes. Jareth observed like it was a gesture he'd never seen before. The silence, and one sided dining was awkward for Sarah. Again, she found herself feeling the need to break the tension. Did he put her in a corner like this on purpose?

"Have you ever eaten any of this before?" She asked, picking up on the eye of intrigue he was giving her plate. At least he wasn't solely focused on her anymore.

"...No. Not prepared in such a way, at least." He said, after a moments contemplation. His uncertainty made her feel like she had the upper-hand, and gave her a small amount of confidence.

"Oh...well, it's really good. If you ever feel like trying any of it." She said, and was careful not to offer him any a second time. She was a little off guard when he looked up and caught her straight in the eye.

"What sports do you play? Aside from track, that is." He asked, out of the blue. Sarah paused mid-bite.

"Why do you care?" She countered. Jareth's eyes darted down to the table for half a second. He looked, uncomfortable almost.

"Apparently I know nothing about you. As you are my bride, whom I am to spend a great deal of my future with, I would like to know you better." He said, and sounded unsure of the words as he said them. Sarah gently placed her fork on her plate. This was the exact kind of thing that made her so wary.

"I played soccer in the fall, and volleyball in the winter...and I played in a summer softball league -to stay in shape until school started." She said, dryly, and went back to her food. Jareth looked on, through her.

"And you were in many associations. You had a lot of friends." He observed, obviously recalling the time he'd spent messing with her on her birthday. Sarah tried not to huff.

"I'm sorry, but what are you getting at exactly?" She asked him, exasperated already. He looked up at her, and looked like he was distracted by some distant, complicated thought.

"It's just- been a very long time." He said, with that tone that made him sound so old and wise. Whatever daze he was in, Sarah wasn't playing into it.

"It's been three years, Jareth. That's not long at all. In fact, it's not long enough." She said, and had intended for it to be a stab against seeing him again. She didn't expect him to smile just then, and shake his head slightly the same way as when she'd lectured him about caring for his people. _What is so funny?_

"I'd like for you to ready yourself when you've finished dining." Jareth said suddenly, changing directions completely, and stood from his seat. Sarah's eyes followed him. He was wearing a cream colored shirt and tight brown leather pants today.

"And what are you doing with me today?" She asked and eyed him as he stalked around the table. He paused just as he reached the door. _He's leaving me alone?_

"Getting to know you." He said, and vanished out into the hall.

* * *

Sarah sat for a moment in silence, not quite ready to believe Jareth had actually left her. Slowly, she brought her eyes away from the door and back to the table. _What does he mean getting to know me? _She'd been picking at her food up until now, but now that Jareth was gone she felt a rumble in her belly that told her she was indeed capable of eating everything that was in front of her.

When she was finished, she left her empty plates on the table and headed towards her dressers. She didn't know how long Jareth would be gone, so she made sure to take precautions in his absence -starting with bringing the day's outfit with her into the bathroom before hand. As she rummaged, she found yet another pair of trousers. This made her smile -a little. She'd always hated wearing skirts. Pants gave her a sense of security. Even the fancy dresses she would dress up in for her schools plays, she would almost always have a pair of shorts or pants underneath. She found a matching shirt and a pair of boots and to go along with it, and fished through the sea of her underthings to top things off. She pursed her lips as she sorted through all the fine satin and lace she now owned and wondered if Jareth really had picked all this out for her. Everything was so delicate looking -not like Jareth at all. If she had to guess, she would have said he was more of a leather and straps kind of guy.

As she carried her pile into the bathroom, she couldn't stop the thought swimming through her mind that Jareth allowed her to choose what she wore. Even more so, he allowed her to have options -like pants. There seemed to be subtleties of kindness about Jareth, but they were small and by normal, human standards wouldn't be considered acts of kindness at all but rather simple givens. She told her herself this as she waited for the tub to fill. She would be thankful to have these things, but she wouldn't be thankful to him. Why should she thank him for letting her pick her meals and attire? She had free will, she had rights. He was forcing her to marry him for Pete's sake! No amount of cheeseburgers or tight breeches would make up for that.

Sarah was pleased to find her room still vacant one Goblin King when she exited the bathroom. She ran her fingers through her damp hair, and wound it up into a messy bun -using the elastic band she was wearing the night she was taken. She hated walking around with wet hair. Did the Underground have hair dryers? Did they even have electricity? She wondered as she walked across the room to sit at the small vanity wedged between the two armoires.

"Captivity with the Goblin King, day two." She murmured while looking herself over in the mirror. Her eyes caught on the picture of her family she'd wedged into the frame, and she frowned at the harsh creases that now obscured part of Toby's face from where she'd had to fold it. She lowered her eyes to the small wooden box holding the small white flowers Hoggle had given her. What were they doing? Were they worried about her? She hoped they weren't. As she currently could do nothing about it, she didn't want for them to be going through any pain or stress on her behalf. _I'll see them again...I'm going to be Queen, after all. Jareth can't stop me from simply seeing them, can he?_ She wondered, and absentmindedly rose her hand to stroke against the glass. The only other object on the desk was her mother's necklace. She whipped her head around when she heard the quiet thump of boots across the floor.

Jareth appeared around the corner, and a small smirk lit up his face once he spotted her -obviously pleased that she had gotten up and dressed all on her own. Sarah remained indifferent.

"You're looking very dapper this morning." He said. His voice was light and breezy, as if this was the first time he'd seen her that morning. Sarah stood, but held her ground.

"Where are we going?" She asked, ignoring his comment. Jareth raised an eyebrow at her.

"It's a surprise." He said. The words rolled dangerously off his tongue, daring her to make a repeat of the day before. Sarah felt the start of a scowl threaten to burnish her brow, but she fought it off and squared her shoulders.

"Just so you know, I'm not a fan of surprises." She said, dismissively, and paced passed him through the room and towards the door. Jareth turned in his spot as he watched her. She stopped in the center of the room, crossed her arms over her chest, and turned back to face him. "Please, lead the way." She said, sardonically, and ushered him towards the door. Jareth stood tall, and stalked towards her.

"I can tell the difference between sincerity and sarcasm, Sarah dearest. Just so _you_ know, _I'm_ not a fan of that patronizing tone of yours." He said as he passed by. His demeanor was stern, but she couldn't tell if he was angry or not. "Now, as you so graciously conceded, allow me to lead the way." He added, in the same sardonic tone as Sarah, and opened the door that led to the hall. Sarah's eyes lingered on the door opposite, she still had no idea where it went.

Sarah followed Jareth down the corridor that she recognized as leading towards the great hall. She didn't know _how_ she remembered the way, and marveled at the way she anticipated each corner and door before they approached them. Did she really manage to remember it all? Or was it the castle's doing? She paused to wait behind Jareth as he eased open the large door that she remembered entered the back left corner of the room.

She didn't know what she was to suppose to expect upon entering the room, but was welcomed by a wave of roaring chatter. She scuttled behind Jareth from the jolt of noise, and gazed out over the hall with a look of abashment. The entire hall was filled with Goblins, bouncing, laughing, causing a ruckus, Goblins. She looked up to Jareth, who was stalking towards a throne (similar to the one in the throne room) that sat in the middle of the end wall of the room. His shoulders were hunched and his hands were clasped behind his back. It was as if the room was completely empty to him. She paused once they reached their destination. What were they doing here exactly? Didn't he say he was getting to know her? Jareth eased back in the chair and turned to look up at her.

"I want you to stand -there." He said, and pointed to a spot about two feet to the side and away from him. Sarah furrowed her brow. _I don't get a chair? How long are we going to be here? _She wondered. She wanted to complain, but sensed the serious aura radiating around Jareth and thought otherwise. She took a few steps until she stood just where he had pointed.

"What are we doing here?" She asked, and eyed the crowd as they fought their way into a line.

"This is a grievance summons. I offer them every month or so." He said. Sarah shot her brow up at him.

"Ok? And that means?..." She asked, and sounded just as annoyed with his non-explanation as she felt. Jareth kept his stare towards the crowd, and shifted to rest his jaw on his knuckles.

"Citizens that make the journey to my castle are given the right to voice any grievances they have and request possible compensation from me personally." He said. Sarah blinked a couple of times. That seemed very...humane coming from him. She turned her head and peered out over the crowd once more. Her eyes widened a bit. There were a lot of citizens.

"So, why do I have to be here, exactly?" She asked. She was still trying to piece together how this had anything to do with him getting to know her any better.

"I want you to observe." He said. His voice was low and solid, as if he was warning her not to ask any further questions. Sarah turned her body to fully face the crowd and sighed. This was going to be a long day.

  



	9. Something Deeper part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While unbeknown to her, Sarah has succeeded in obtaining the one thing the Goblin King has desired for hundreds of years -power over the Labyrinth. After being hidden for years from his diabolical wrath, Sarah finds herself alone and vulnerable as Jareth's dark desires are finally aloud to rear their ugly heads. As always, the only question is, are things really as they seem?

Sarah stood, and waited for an echo shouting "Timber!" as she wobbled on stiff knees. _How long is he going to make me stand here? This crowd is endless, it'll take days to get through them all... _She groaned to herself. Individually, each Goblin passed quickly. One, or a group, would step up -voice their issues, and ask for compensation. Jareth would think over each case, some more extensively than others, and give his verdict. The subject would be dismissed, and another would take its place. It had been a steady cycle, for hours it felt. She wanted to sit, or kneel over for a minute, but Jareth had told her to stand, and even though she cared nothing for obeying him -this wasn't just between her and Jareth. They were in front of all his subjects, some of whom were dealing with very serious matters. She wouldn't insult them for a chance at miffing their King.

A great majority of grievances it seemed were related to the _Erastora-? Bore -thing?_ that Jareth had mentioned having destroyed a village in the _Sulu_ district the previous day. Many were complaints of Goblins who were now homeless and had requested shelter, or merchants who's stands were destroyed and were requesting compensation for their lost goods, or farmers who's crops had been trampled, again requesting compensation for lost profit. There were so many... How big was the bore exactly? She frowned at the site, and would look to Jareth each time a request was made.

She became very angry after that. Each time a Goblin stepped forward making one of those claims, Jareth would simply wave it aside and move on to the next. How could he be so cruel? Did he really not care for the wellbeing of his subjects? It was almost too much. On more than one occasion, she found herself slowly turning towards him, about to unleash all kinds of lecturing and insults against his crown, but was able to catch herself just in time. Each time she looked at him, she expected him to look bored, or detached. However, he couldn't have looked more attentive the entire time. He was mostly quiet, contemplatively so.

Other grievances were simply ludicrous, and made her want to lash out at them for daring to group themselves with Goblins who were actually struggling. Some had fair enough complaints, -like stolen poultry or property damage- but would ask for an outrageous amount of compensation, while others were simply there to waste time. About a third of the complaints she'd had to stand through were matters a child would take to a parent -a broken rattle, or having no more ale. She had no patience for those Goblins, and she simply couldn't fathom how Jareth had managed to remain calm and reserved during the whole ordeal.

These were the basic categories of complaints that approached the Goblin King, and Sarah listened to each one. Yes, her legs were sore, but she couldn't say for any one minute that she was bored. She truly cared for the Goblins, and saw a shadow of the friends she'd made in each one. She wanted to help them, to voice her opinions. Jareth was infuriating her with his neglect, but each time she opened her mouth, she closed it again. It wasn't her place to speak out against him, especially in matters like this, she knew that much. Was that why he made her stand there? So she could learn her place? Sarah only grew more and more irritated with that theory. _I thought he wanted to know me? Maybe spend time with me? Or at the very least simply talk to me, ask questions?_ She couldn't find a single way to connect the morning with the afternoon, it was mind-boggling.

Suddenly, Jareth stood from his throne and addressed the crowd. Sarah watched him sternly.

"All those who seek any form of compensation due to the repercussions of the Erestoran Bore attack of yesterday will be met with a royal consultant within three days time. The entire district will be up for renovation, so all those who have voiced their concerns to me today -along with all other citizens who reside within Sulu- will be hereby compensated to the fullest effect within the renovation period. To all others whom have spoken this day, your verdicts have already been met." He said and turned as if to walk away. Sarah gaped for a moment. Her anger towards him left her so fast she felt empty without it; though the void was quickly filling with a new kind of confusion and wariness. _What? I thought...he didn't care. But- he just...just issued a whole lot to a whole lot of people...repairing towns, farmland, paying for lost profit...and not just for those who were actually attacked?_

She felt a little guilty now for thinking such nasty things about him in regards to his subjects. He was a king, of course he would care. He just ordered an entire renovation, completely indifferent to whether or not certain areas actually needed it or not. Again with the subtleties. She stopped her gawking and looked up to him for a cue.

Jareth glanced over his shoulder, and jerked his head in a signal for Sarah to follow. His eyes were sharp as he watched her. If he didn't know any better, he'd say she was blushing._Why is she blushing?_ She dipped her head low as she scuttled to him, like she was ashamed to meet him in the eye. What ever the reason, Jareth was just glad she was no longer shooting him daggers in her stare. He was a little surprised when she actually joined him at his side instead of glowering behind him.

"Why did you just leave like that? There were still a lot of Goblins waiting..." She asked. Jareth peered down.

"Sarah, the crowd will never become any smaller. I could sit there for days and days and nothing would change." He said, and watched as she lowered her gaze to the floor, deep in thought. _But now they all have to wait another month... _She thought.

"Where are we going now?" She asked, changing directions. Jareth almost smirked at the small sense of adventure in her voice. He liked it when she was like this -innocent and...dare he say, kind? Civil at least? It was better than rage and childish tantrums.

"Back to your room." He said. Sarah frowned, but remained quiet. "As you may have heard, I am planning to renovate an entire district within my kingdom. I have to consult plans and budgeting with my advisors." He explained. Sarah gave a small nod. That made sense...and on a brighter note, she wouldn't have to see him for a few hours at least.

"Was the damage really that bad?" She asked, concerned.

"No- the village that was attacked is on the border between my kingdom and Erastor. These things tend to happen almost regularly; but that area needs to be rebuilt anyway, this incident just happens to be the proper motivation." He said. Deep down, he felt at ease that they were having a civil conversation, but on the surface he couldn't help but sound wary and closed off. Sarah started to fall behind.

"Oh...do I have to go back to my room?" She asked. Jareth stopped and turned.

"Where else would you like to go?" He asked. Sarah tried not to cower now that his attention was directly on her. _Where do I want to go? Hmmm, home maybe?_ She thought, but wisely didn't speak.

"Um...no where specifically I guess..." She said, and let her eyes roam everywhere but at him. A creeping smile curled Jareth's lips.

"Very well, I'll leave you to explore." He said, and immediately started walking down the hall, in the direction they'd just came.

"Where are you going?" Sarah asked, and sounded just a little more concerned than she had intended to.

"I've told you, I have business to discuss." He said, and turned away from her yet again. Sarah stood stiff, like the floor around her was made of lava. "Just remember to stick to the areas I've shown you." He called out, just before the darkness of the corridor consumed him.

* * *

Sarah gaped, wide-eyed, and nibbled on her lip. She felt- nervous, being alone in the hall. She thought she would be happy to be out of his company, but his abrupt departure caught her off guard. _I can't believe how much he trusts me...not to run away...not to wander aimlessly into the white room... Does he honestly trust me? Or is he just that arrogant? _She wondered. _Or...maybe it's a ploy...he puts his trust in me so that maybe I'll put some of my trust in him...? _She wasn't sure which theory was correct, but her mind was in a deadlock between arrogance and conspiracy.

Slowly, the eeriness of the hall started to creep in. She looked from one end of the hall to the other. _Where to go?_ At first, she thought about going to the library, maybe Liana would be there. But, that seemed too obvious. If Liana was anything like Jareth, she knew how to find Sarah if she really wanted to, so there was no use in trying to find her.

Unsure of her destination, Sarah chose to just start wandering down any one random corridor. She recognized it of course, but pretended she was exploring all the same.

As she wandered, she realized she was approaching one of the many "game rooms" located throughout the castle. She remembered this one from the tour, and figured it would be a good way to pass the time until Jareth eventually came back for her.

The room was vast, and open. Her footsteps would have echoed if the air wasn't already filled with the laughter and merriment of Goblins. She closed the door behind her and scanned over the different spectacles. There were various groups of Goblins enjoying different kinds of games. Some were grotesque, like who could fit an entire chicken in their mouth without getting their eyes clawed out. She winced and shied away from that area of the room. Further in, she spotted something vaguely recognizable to her. It looked like a game of botchy ball, though instead of throwing botchy balls, you threw your head. It reminded her of the Fire Gang, though these creatures weren't the same. They all looked completely different actually, no two the same. Were Goblins such a varied race? Or were there other species amongst them?

"Hey, lady! You wanna play?" Asked a dismembered head as it rolled by. Sarah's eyes widened for a moment.

"I would, but my head doesn't come off." She said, and shrugged. The group of about four or so Goblins gasped simultaneously.

"That's ok! You can use my head!" Called one of the Goblins. This one's head was also dismembered, and its body held it by the nose like a handle. Sarah paused for a moment. Did she really want to play this game?

"Alright then." She found herself saying, and smiled at the way their faces lit up with delight.

* * *

Sarah jumped and cheered as the Goblin known as Brammba's head hit the target head square on. She thrust her fist up in the air in a sign of victory, as all the rolling heads cheered around her. This was the third game she'd won in a row, and was getting a little into it. She blamed sports for her competitive streak. She brought a hand to her chest to quiet her laughter and made move to reach for _her_ head to start the next game, when strangely everything went quiet. Sarah cocked her head and furrowed her brow at the look of blind panic on her new friend's faces. They were looking past her. She turned, and slowly the smile waned from her face.

"You have quite the arm there." Jareth said, and cocked his head to mirror hers. The remnants of Sarah's smile faded into a flat line. Why did all the Goblins look so afraid?

"Why are they afraid of you?" She asked, sternly, and placed her hands on her hips. Jareth's eyes sharpened.

"Because they know their place." He said, and smiled wickedly at her. "Come." He said, and turned as he offered her a hand. Sarah hesitated, and looked back to her friends over her shoulder.

"Go on miss. We see you again soon." Said one head, that was currently stuck upside down.

"Yes, come back and play with us again!" Called another. Sarah gave them a sad smile and turned back to Jareth, already scowling. _Why did he have to come back? _She grumbled. This was perhaps the first time she was able to get her mind off everything bad that had happened to her, and it was over just as quickly as it began.

She didn't take his hand, and just walked passed him instead. Jareth gave her a scowl of his own and took her by the elbow as he pulled her out of the room.

"I'm glad to see you've found some means of entertainment in my absence." Jareth said, once they'd entered the hall. She fought her glare at him, he seemed sincere enough.

"So was I -as short lived as it was." She said, and scowled at the floor.

"Sarah, are you pouting?" Jareth asked, and almost laughed as he said it. Sarah didn't answer. "Do you have any idea how long you've been in there?" He asked. Sarah continued to glare, but gave in to glance up at him. "Sarah, we left the summons around two o'clock. It's now well past ten." He said, and sounded half in disbelief as Sarah felt. _I was tossing heads for eight hours? _She thought, and reflexively brought a hand to her stomach. "I imagine you're hungry then? I arranged to have food brought to you, but I assume you were too preoccupied?" He asked, teasingly.

"I didn't think it had been that long..." She murmured. Jareth grinned, and absently loosened his grip on her arm.

"I've told you, time is virtually meaningless here. I could have been gone five days or five hours and it would have been the same." He said, and turned her down a corner that would lead to her room.

"That makes no sense. I can still tell the difference between five minutes and five hours." She said and paused beside Jareth so he could open the door to her room.

"Once you adjust, you won't be concerned with telling the difference." He said, and released her arm to shut the door behind them. Sarah eye him for a moment. Damn. That mean he wasn't leaving yet.

Sarah ignored his last comment and walked further into the room. She looked out the small window facing the Labyrinth, it was already pitch black out. Where did the day go? Would it always go by this fast? If she had to spend it with Jareth, she certainly hoped so. She wasn't paying attention as he roamed over towards the fireplace.

"Come here." He said, or ordered. Sarah glared over to him, he hadn't even looked up at her. She huffed at his smug certainty.

"Why?" She asked, and kept her feet firmly in place. Jareth paused, he was about to lean down for some reason, but was now frozen in a hunched over position as he turned his head to face her.

"Because I said so." He snapped. Sarah bit the inside of her cheek so she wouldn't snap at him. He was really getting sick of her defiance. Good, she thought, because she was really getting sick of his orders.

"Maybe you could try asking me." She said, and waited. They were at level ground for the moment. She could tell Jareth wanted to growl at her, and it only made her stand taller.

"If I asked you, you would say no." He said, and waited. The ball was back in her court.

"You would only know that if you asked now wouldn't you?" She asked him and narrowed her eyes a bit. Jareth's ears tensed. He could either concede, swallow his pride and do what_she_ said, or he could force her to obey him, and inevitably back peddle a mile before the start line.

"Sarah, would you please join me?" He asked, with an obvious forced sincerity. Sarah remained impassive, but inside her conscience was doing a victory dance. Whatever the size, a victory was a victory. She nodded and slowly stepped to join him.

Jareth eyed her warily, not quite believing that she had actually listened. She crossed her arms as she stood before him, waiting.

"Please, have a seat." He said, with an emphasis on the word _please_, and gestured for her to sit on the rug beside the fire. Sarah looked down to the floor, and then back up at him.

"You'd be surprised how far good manners can get you." Sarah said, mocking his sentiment to her in the dungeons, and plopped down on the rug at his feet. Jareth sneered. He was angry again, like he was with her last night. Why did it anger him when she listened?

Jareth sat on the rug across from her. The light from the fire illuminated them both, and created shadows that enhanced each of their features.

"Why are we on the floor?" Sarah asked, her arms were still crossed over her chest.

"Why not?" Jareth countered, and swept his arm over the space between them. A small covered tray appeared.

"We're eating on the floor?" She asked. Jareth eyed her for a moment.

"Clever observation." He said, dryly. Sarah's stare was unwavering.

"That isn't very proper." She said, mocking his lecture of her table manners the previous night. She knew she shouldn't be egging him on, why was she exactly?

"It's just the two of us, I think you can deal." He replied. Sarah stared at him for a moment. She'd half expected him to be angry with her prodding, but here he was with a sly smile on his face playing along. She wanted to snarl. Instead of responding, she reached out and took hold of the lid on the tray and removed it. She held it up for a moment, a little stunned by what was underneath.

"...pizza?" She asked, confounded. _I didn't tell him that... _Jareth looked suddenly proud of himself and her reaction.

"I know this is a popular dish in your world. I went on a limb and assumed it would be something you would like." He said. Sarah's eyes darted from the pie of delicious intoxication up to Jareth and back again. It seemed like he was -trying. Trying to please her. What the hell?

"Um- thank you?" She said, uncertainly. She wanted to tell him no, that she hated pizza more than anything in this world; but the truth was, pizza was one of her most favorite foods and this one smelled...heavenly. She could feel her mouth watering from just looking at it. Jareth said nothing, and simply stared at her as he waited. Sarah's eyes darted again. _Why does he have to stare at me when I eat? It's kind of creepy..._ She thought, and warily reached down for a slice.

It was quiet as she ate.

"Jareth?" Sarah quirked up after another unbearable silence. Jareth's stare had long since traveled away from her and over towards the fire. He looked -content. It was like she wasn't there. Why wasn't he eating? He looked back to her once she spoke, however. Sarah shriveled down in her spot. She hated this. She hated the silence. But she also hated making Jareth think that she cared enough to just talk to him. Even more so, she hated that she actually wanted to talk to him. "This morning- you said that today...you were getting to know me. But, I've hardly seen or talked to you all day..." She stopped there, not sure of the impression she was making. It wasn't so much that she cared about him getting to know her better, but the fact that she was confused by him saying that and then- nothing.

Jareth looked innocently lost for a moment, before he responded.

"And I have been." He said. Sarah furrowed her brow at him.

"How?" She asked, and kept herself from saying anything more. She wanted to give him as indifferent a reaction as possible. Jareth tilted his head to one side. His eyes brightened immensely, as he judged the thoughts behind her words.

"Well, I now know that you prefer action. You like to do things yourself, and you like to be prepared." He said. Sarah gaped and then shook her head.

"What? And how would you know that?" She asked, surprised by his response.

"Your clothes." He said, and raked his eyes over her apparel. "You've been here two days, and both you've chosen to wear pants and tall leather boots." He observed.

"So?" Sarah responded, and shook her head again.

"It's clear you've chosen such attire because it offers you more security than a dress. Now, you can argue that the reasoning behind that has something to do with me, and I will not deny it-" He said, and paused to give her a naughty smile. "But what is key to that statement is that you seek security -function over form. Your choice in attire states that you are prepared to do something physical, and you feel secure in such because you prefer to be physical. You aren't a dainty maiden, are you? All those sports you play? You like contact, you like control, of yourself and the situation. That's why you've always strived to be at the top. It wasn't enough to be a part of an organization, you had to run it. You had to have the security of control." Jareth explained. Sarah leaned back on her tail-bone.

"I didn't think leather boots offered that much insight into my personality." She said, neither confirming nor denying his statement. Jareth smiled.

"I've gotten to know some other things about you today as well." He said, baiting her for another speech.

"Which is?" She said, giving in to feed his ego.

"When I told you to stand during the summons. You obeyed me without question. You stood there for hours, not fidgeting or complaining once." He said. Sarah rolled her eyes at him.

"Ok, and that means what, exactly?" She asked.

"You obeyed me because you were in the presence of the kingdom. You put my subjects above your own comfort and your anger towards me because you knew it was your place to honor them as _your_ subjects." He said. Sarah pursed her lips, but said nothing. "I told you to observe, and you did, without fail, not because I told you to but because you have true compassion. It is one thing to do as you're told, it's another to believe in what you are doing. I could see how angered you were by the way I brushed off the victims of the Sulu incident. You didn't agree with my actions, but you held your tongue. That is because deep down you know it is not your place to question me, not when matters of the kingdom are concerned. I also saw the impatience and irritation you felt with some of the other complainants. You know what is rational, you know how to judge what is worthy and not worthy. I could see the concern you felt for my people, the desire to act for them. I saw you do all these things, while keeping perfectly quiet and standing tall. You presented an image, a strong symbol to the entire kingdom. Further more, I saw first hand how you were able to connect with them on a personal level. You have the ability to instill loyalty and friendship among the people." He looked off to the fire when he finished speaking, and stared intently, like he was imagining something as clear as day. "You will make a fine Queen." He said. His voice was much softer now, and full of praise.

Sarah continued to stare at him through his rant. Her brow drew tighter and tighter as he spoke. He sounded so proud -proud of her. _That was what he meant by getting to know me? He just wanted to see if I really was a "suitable candidate"? _She couldn't hide the small stab of disappointment that came with the realization. _He doesn't want to know "me", he doesn't want to know what I like, my fears or aspirations..._

"Oh..." Was all she said, and looked down to the floor. Jareth glanced back at the hint of woe in her voice, and furrowed his brow a little. For a second there he could have sworn she sounded...disappointed?

"Why? What did you think I meant?" He asked, already having a tiny hint as to what she thought he meant, and failed to stop the slight haughtiness that laced his voice. Though, his smirk faded when her brow continued to sag.

"I- I don't know. Nothing, I guess." She said. What did she think he meant? A game of twenty questions? Truth or dare? A picnic maybe? Anything at all? Wait- why was she disappointed again? Jareth turned to her, and sent away the tray with a swoop of his hand.

"If you're unsatisfied with the means I've gone about today, I could get to know you in other ways.." He said, and leaned over slightly. Sarah's eyes widened. _No. That's not really what I had in mind... _She thought, and rolled back a bit to scoot away from him.

"Um- no, I'm fine." Sarah muttered, and scooted farther away. Jareth leaned over on his knees and reached for her ankle and pulled her back.

Sarah gasped as Jareth pulled her flat on her back in front of the fire. He let go of her ankle, and leaned forward so his hands supported himself over her hips.

"Jareth-" Sarah managed to say, and tried to shuffle away once more. Jareth didn't take hold of her this time, and simply crawled on his hands and knees over her as she back peddled. She realized that he was now hovering face to face with her, meaning she had missed her chance at getting up to escape him. "What are you doing?" She called out in a panic. He was looking down at her, careful not to touch her.

"Getting to know you." He said, and cocked his head to one side. "This is what you thought I meant, wasn't it?"

Sarah didn't know what to do, how to react. He hadn't touched her yet, hadn't gotten angry or forceful. The way he was staring at her...it was different.

"No...You know me well enough." She said, and wiggled a bit in hopes of inching out from under him. Jareth lowered himself so he rested on his forearms.

"In that case, perhaps you can get to know me a little better." He said, and gently pressed the weight of his body against her.

"I think I already know everything I need to." She said, and tried her best not to strike out against him. If she could keep him calm like this, maybe she could talk her way out of it.

"Oh, I assure you, you don't." He said. Sarah just stared for a moment. _What is he doing?_ She didn't understand. He'd always been so outright and domineering. This- sprawled out next to the fire was...dare she say... no. Was this his attempt at being romantic or something? She couldn't believe this was the same person who said he could chain her in the dungeons and rape for day in and day out if he so wanted to.

"Well, I would be more than happy to discuss it with you then. With words. Preferably sitting in two opposite facing chairs..." She said, and glanced away uncomfortably.

"Or..." He started to say, and lightly ran the tip of his nose along her neck. Sarah grimaced in the darkness. This wasn't going to work.

"Jareth- stop." She said, and opened one eye when he actually listened.

Jareth paused, for just a moment, and then pressed the weight of his body fully into hers -leaving her immobile. He then pushed his elbows against the top of her shoulders, so she couldn't wriggle, and planted a soft kiss at the back of her jaw.

"Jareth - enough. Let go of me." She said, sternly, and tried her best to maneuver a way out of his hold.

"The more you command me, the worse this will be for you." He murmured, and nipped at the flesh of her neck. Sarah felt a shiver run down her spine. She bit her lower lip and took a deep breath.

"Jareth, please. Let me go." She said, forcibly. Jareth's hands moved to pin hers.

"Is that a request? I can't tell." He said, and moved to the hollow of her throat. Sarah huffed.

"Yes. I'm asking you, please, let go of me." She clarified. Jareth paused. The heat of his breath flushed her skin.

"No." He answered, and pushed himself against her. Sarah's defenses stood to full attention.

"What?" She asked, panicking fast.

"You asked, and I answered. I said it would be _worse_ for you if you didn't." Jareth affirmed. Sarah gave an involuntary flinch against him. He tightened his grip on her hands.

"B-but-" She stammered, and jerked her hands away, only to have them slammed back down to the floor by Jareth's. "Why? Why do you do this?" She cried out, suddenly. Jareth stopped, and pulled away to look down at her.

"Because it's fun." He said, and looked at her like it was the simplest and most obvious of answers. Sarah stared up at him -horrified.

"You only do this -sexually harass me- because you think it's fun?!" She asked, outraged.

"Harass you? Sarah, I'm merely playing the game you set." He said, and looked at her like he didn't understand why she was so upset.

"Game?! You think this is a game! What is wrong with you!" She practically screamed. Jareth looked taken back by her sudden fury. Did he really have no idea why she was so upset? She thought back to what he had said about being content to play_ her _game until their wedding night... Is that what he was talking about?

"Sarah-" He started to say, in warning, but Sarah cut him off.

"No! My feelings, my sexual status and most importantly MY LIFE, is not a GAME for your entertainment!" She roared. Jareth continued to look more and more perplexed. "I am not one of your toys! I am not an object of your possession for you to mess with at your leisure!"

Jareth was quiet a moment, mulling over everything she'd just spewed at him. He cocked his head to one side and blinked at her. She noticed his hold on her hands loosened as well.

"Sarah...have I hurt your feelings?" He asked, and sounded so innocent as he said it. Sarah gaped, baffled.

"What?" She spat.

"Your life, I have clearly manipulated. Your sexual status, well, I've been threatening that as well, I will agree with you. But, I have not made a move against your _feelings_...so for you to bring it up would stand to say that they have been somehow affected. Why is that?" He asked, and sounded genuinely intrigued. Sarah flushed, having been caught off guard by his observation. She'd been expecting his anger. _Wait -what? I did say feelings didn't I...what does he mean? Of course my feelings are hurt! After everything he's done! _She ignored it, but behind the anger, a very small part of her inner self was whispering that her feelings were indeed hurt, not by being taken or forced into marriage, but by the fact that there was nothing deeper to it. He wasn't marrying her because he loved her, or thought she was funny or enjoyed her company or anything like that; he was marrying her because she fit the bill. She'd been reminded of that when he'd said what he meant by getting to know her was really to see how she would fit into the role of Queen. And now, she had asked him why he assaulted her so much, why he was so interested in her sexually... it wasn't because he thought she was attractive, or had a burning desire to make her his; it was because he found entertainment in making her uncomfortable. There was nothing deeper, nothing at all. So, yes, her feelings were hurt, whether she acknowledged the true reason behind it or not. -She chose not to.

"Why bother asking? They are irrelevant to you." She said, and glared away from him. Jareth's stare tried to follow. He brought one of his hands down to grip her chin and turn her back to face him. He was scowling when she met his gaze, he looked unsure.

"I told you, you're feelings mean everything to me." He said, and it was the twisted truth. Her feelings were the most important part in ever getting his power out of her.

"If you actually cared about how I felt you would listen when I tell you to stop. Even more so, you would have never taken me in the first place." She said. Jareth's brow furrowed further.

"I took you because I care about you more than I care about how you feel." He said, and slowly removed himself from her. Again, in his own way, it was the twisted truth.

Sarah stared up at the ceiling. _Did he really just get off of me? What?! _She was too caught up in that fact to bother thinking about what he had just said, and shuffled away from him. She stayed on the floor however, still wary of his actions. She watched him intently. He had looked away from her, and sat with his back against the frame of the hearth. He still wasn't leaving.

"What positions do you play, in all your various sports?" He asked, out of the blue. He still hadn't looked at her. Sarah shuffled up on her knees.

"What?" She asked and shook her head. He was so flighty. She couldn't grasp how he was able to shift so radically so fast. Jareth's eyes dared over to her then, almost glaring.

"I asked you a question. This is what you wanted, is it not?" He asked her, and sounded vaguely irritated, but he sounded tired more than anything. Sarah blinked at him, and then remembered something. _Well, I would be more than happy to discuss it with you then. With words..._ She remembered saying that to him earlier. _Is that what he was trying to do? _He was giving in to simply talk now? She shook her head again. She'd only been here two days and already she was overwhelmed by him. How would she handle the rest of forever? On a positive note, it was sure to never get boring.

She let her eyes roam over him once more before responding. He really did look tired -exhausted actually, and she knew it was because he wasn't used to compromise, to giving in. She smiled to herself, maybe she wasn't the only one feeling overwhelmed.

  



	10. Fickle and Shag part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While unbeknown to her, Sarah has succeeded in obtaining the one thing the Goblin King has desired for hundreds of years -power over the Labyrinth. After being hidden for years from his diabolical wrath, Sarah finds herself alone and vulnerable as Jareth's dark desires are finally aloud to rear their ugly heads. As always, the only question is, are things really as they seem?

Chapter 7, Fickle and Shag

* * *

The night was quiet. The air was cool, and gentle against her skin. The moon hung large in the Underground sky; its silver beams shimmered the landscape and made the shadowed hallows of the Labyrinth glow a brilliant blue.

Sarah sat on the windowsill, overlooking the vast picture of the Labyrinth and whatever lay beyond. There was a slight chill in the air that seemed to freeze the world in an image of eternal serenity. She sighed, and laid her head against the frame of the window. It was late, even the crickets had called it a night. She closed her eyes and tried to feel the weight behind them, but it wasn't there. It was no use, she was wide awake.

Jareth had left some time ago. He'd stayed longer than she thought he would have, considering the level of irritation in his voice and her unwillingness to participate. At first, she'd reveled in the victory she'd won over him, but soon realized that the prize wasn't as sweet as she thought. His questions... they were simple, impersonal enough; but the more Sarah talked, the more she thought -the more she remembered. And the more she remembered, the more she realized she was speaking of herself in the past tense, like she was a narrator telling a story of a girl who was no longer there, who may have never been. And it was true. The girl she had once been, her friends, her family, her pursuits, they were all gone -lost in the wind. She had a new story now, having been forced to close one book in her life and open another. She never planned on having a sequel.

As the memories flowed, so did the heartache. She didn't want any of this. She was going to graduate high school, go to college and become someone important, meet a guy that loved her from the very first moment he saw her and she would be happy. She'd have her own family, in her quaint human life. She would be happy. But all that -that future- was taken away. There was no going back, and she had to make the best of the new hand she'd been dealt. She had accepted that, or she was in the process of accepting that. The change had already been made, transitioning had to follow, if there was to be any chance of her being happy again. Deep down...she knew that. But sitting there, in front of the fire, speaking to Jareth of tales from her Aboveground life...it was too surreal. She was trying to move on, not forget, but being forced to recall and divulge memories from her previous life -to Jareth of all people- wasn't exactly doing much to aid in that cause.

At one point, she'd looked up from her ramblings, wondering whether or not Jareth actually had any interest in the things she was saying. Like always, he was staring at her. His face was shadowed by the fire, but she could make out the striking blue of his eyes on her. Eyes that were hooded -he was tired. Or maybe it was something else. There was a softness to him that could have been tell of physical exhaustion, but it was too discerning. Why was he looking at her like that? She didn't like it. And that's when everything started to drop. She didn't want to speak to him of her life like it was some great folktale. What was this anyway? It's not like he actually cared to know these things, why would he? Was it just a means of getting her to shut up and settle down? Was this act of civility just some backhanded means to victory? She quickly became angry with him again for using her own woe against her. Whatever meager satisfaction he was getting, she didn't want him to have it, and so she began to close down. After that, things may have become awkward, the silences between them started to stretch, but she didn't care. He had no right invading her, whether it be her life, her body, or her mind.

After a while, they had stopped speaking completely. Sarah wondered if maybe he'd fallen asleep or something, but she didn't dare move from her spot. After a long while, She quirked up and asked if she could go to bed for the night, praying he wouldn't twist her words into some high-handed vulgar offer. There was hesitation from Jareth before he responded. He looked at her, with the same look he'd been giving her all night, and rose to his feet. She looked up at him, and watched as he took a few steps passed her, then paused and glanced down out of the corner of his eye. She hugged her knees to her chest and waited. He looked...tired...or...sad? As if a reaction to Sarah's anxious state, he then bent down and cupped one side of her head as he planted a soft kiss upon the very top. She went rigid at his touch, but didn't fight him. She could feel him let out a long breath against her scalp.

"Sleep well." He had said, and was no sooner out the door and gone to the night.

And so here she was, sitting in the windowsill minutes or hours later. She had tried to sleep, but she felt restless -out of sorts. She'd been stable the entire night, right up until Jareth left. _Why did he have to do that?_ _Why the hell did he need to kiss my forehead like we'd just shared a tender moment? _She'd asked herself that question about a hundred times now. She was trying to build up an image of Jareth for herself, one that was cold, cruel and manipulative. She had plenty of fuel and examples to work with. But just when she thought she'd made the perfect rendition, he would go and do something- something...nice? Caring? Civil? Something out of character. There were subtleties of kindness about him, she'd made that observation before hand, and they were gouging holes one by one in her mental image of Jareth. It wasn't right. He was one extreme and then the other. She couldn't gauge him. Maybe that was it? Perhaps the spectrum was a circle instead of a line. That would mean that the extreme on one end would touch the extreme on the other. Perhaps that's where Jareth stood? That was a dangerous line (or circle) to tread on, and she had a sinking feeling that up to this point she had seen a rather light-hearted version of Jareth. She remembered the anger and rage she felt from him when she'd told him he had no power over her. She hadn't felt an anger like that since. Maybe all his man-handling was just minor annoyance? She didn't want to know what he would be like if she really set him off.

She sighed hard, and bumped the back of her head against the wall. It'd only been 2 1/2 days, things should not be this complicated.

"Why?" She asked out loud. _Why what?_ Her conscience answered. _Why does he have to be...like this._ She grimaced in the moonlight. She could mask her emotions well enough around others, but she would always be prisoner to her own thoughts.

She was angry, so angry. She thought she was sad, grieving maybe, but that had past and it made her even more angry. She knew she should hate this place, but she didn't. She knew she should be mourning the loss of her life, of her family, but she wasn't. She knew she should hate him, but she didn't. _Why? Why don't I hate him? I'm angry...extremely pissed off at him, but- _She bit the inside of her lip with the thought. Yes, she was throwing all kinds of hissy fits about her circumstances, she owed Jareth that much, but deep down she just felt...indifferent, completely level, borderline content. _Why? Why is that?_ She didn't want to be here. She didn't want to _want_ to be here. Surely that made her a horrible person? She sure felt like one. She felt as though she should be more upset, more hostile, but it just wasn't there. And it made her angry. It was this anger that she took out on Jareth, because she thought she should, because it was all she could do to fight back. But it wasn't enough. It wasn't true. She was angry, for all the wrong reasons. She didn't hate him, or the Underground. Being back now, after years with nothing but a memory, it was like she longed to be back. She wondered why, why with all the things he'd done, why she didn't hate him.

The night stretched as she thought over this one question. Memories came flooding back, all the way to when she first wished Toby away. She'd been so dazzled by him, and at the same time completely unaffected. Was she just too naive or distracted to see him as he really was? And what did that mean? What was he really?

After she'd won Toby back, she'd rejoiced, not just for the victory, but for everything that she had learned along the way -everything that he had taught her... She wanted to thank him, she'd wanted to... A year went by, and she still couldn't shake the image of the fearsome Goblin King. She'd wondered what had become of him, but was too afraid to find out. Soon, two years had gone by. She was seventeen and started noticing the way boys were looking at her, and noticed the way she was looking at them. The Goblin King's face became ever present then. She played over those thirteen hours that never happened again and again, twisting and trying to hear his words in a new light. _Fear me, love me, do as I say and I will be your slave. What did he mean? _The more her female adolescent mind thought the more meaning emerged from those words. Suddenly, the image changed from the fearsome Goblin King to the possibly lecherous Goblin King. She thought about him more and more and even dared to ask her friends about him. She was disappointed to hear they knew nothing, and was left to carry on her innocently guilty daydreams. What could be the harm in that? There was nothing wrong with having a guilty pleasure, even if it was an inhuman, magical Goblin King -right? Before she knew it, three years had gone by, and there wasn't a single day that she didn't imagine those pale blue eyes roaming over her in a dark and damp tunnel. She wanted so desperately to know what had become of him, what he had meant by those words. The boys at school, her experimenting friends, there was so much pressure to be physical, but all she could think of was Jareth. _Why was that?_ She'd thought about calling on him on more than one occasion, but she couldn't bring herself to do it. The threat was too great. What if he hated her? What if he had forgotten all about her? She didn't know which she thought would be worse. And so the days and months passed, as she forced herself to be content with her dreams; until the day came when her unspoken wish came true, and as cliche as it was, the old life saying "be careful what you wish for" couldn't have proven to be more true.

_Is that why I can't hate him? Because I still have this stupid, totally wrong predilection of what I thought he would be? Of what I wanted him to be?_ That seemed like a solid enough answer. The Jareth in reality was nothing like the Jareth from her dreams, but when she saw him, a very very small part of her subconscious hoped that there was a light at the end of the tunnel, that her dreams would still come true, and she hated herself for it.

Her eyes snapped open as a realization chimed its way through. _What? Why? You going to offer me my dreams again?_ She remembered she'd asked him that on her birthday. And he had said -_No. That, my dear, was a one time offer._ He wasn't offering her her dreams this time. What were her dreams? For the past two years or so, they were of a charming, romantic, and docile Jareth. _Is that what he meant? Is he being this way deliberately? He won't offer me my dreams so he's giving me my nightmares?_ She wasn't one for conspiracies, but she desperately wanted an answer, and an explanation. _How could I be so wrong? How could I be such a poor judge of character?_ She felt silly for ever thinking he was anything more than a scoundrel. And that was another reason she was so angry. She was angry with herself, because she knew Jareth could get inside her head which meant he knew how she really felt, and there was nothing she could do but fight against it. It was hard enough fighting Jareth, let alone herself.

She sighed again and opened her eyes. The scene hadn't changed. The moon was still bright and the night was still quiet. She looked to the side, movement had caught her eye. There was something fluttering off in the distance, the moonlight was reflecting off its wings. _Is that...a butterfly? _She wondered, and eyed it as it approached. _Why do they seem to pop up at the most random times? _She rose her arm out the window and waited for it to land.

It was larger up close, larger than any butterfly she'd ever seen. It was white, and had a shallow glow that only a creature of magic could posses. She watched as it crawled along her finger, and recoiled her arm back to her to examine it further. She lowered her head slightly, and felt a pull on her eye lids. It was strange, she felt more at ease all of the sudden. She tried not to yawn.

"I guess it isn't that bad..." She murmured, and then frowned. This was exactly what made her so angry, she just wasn't as upset as she wanted to be. It was all a front. She'd been telling herself how horrible Jareth was, how monstrous he was being, but what had he really done? _He's threatened me, even though it was a huge bluff...ok that kind of cancels itself out in a way... He kidnapped me. That one I can still be angry about. I have to marry him...which isn't as bad as some other things that he could do to me -but still, it's the principle of the matter. He's harassed me, violated my personal space, but he hasn't forced himself on me yet...which he could have if he wanted to... -that's nothing to thank him for. He's hurt me, pushed me, pulled me, but he hasn't hit me... Will he hit me? He keeps warning me about what will happen once we're married -what will happen? Will he change? Become even more cruel? What does it mean to be the Goblin Queen exactly?_

Her frown intensified as she stared blankly at the glowing insect. There was so much bad, and not nearly enough good. It was like locking a bunch of lightning bugs in a dark room. No matter how much they glowed individually, it would never be enough to rid the blackness. They would be forever surrounded by darkness, buzzing about with nothing but false hope. That's how she imagined her situation with Jareth. _So much buzzing... _It was confusing. She shook her head suddenly and growled. _No. No. This is too complicated. I don't need this. I've been kidnapped, I need to get over it one way or another. I have to marry Jareth and I need to get over that too, but I'll be damned if I ever stop fighting him. There, that's simple and it needs to stay that way. You need to survive Sarah, you need to be smart. Maybe one day you can even be happy. _She narrowed her eyes and huffed, not hardly believing the conviction of her own thoughts.

"Why can't he be like the Jareth from my dreams?" She asked the butterfly, exasperated, and watched as it flapped its wings and hovered into the air.

* * *

Sarah didn't know exactly how long she had been outside, only that it was well past dark out and her father still wasn't there. She put her hands on the top of her head and paced from side to side, taking one steady breath after another. She'd been running nonstop over and over. She was starting to get tired. She wiped fly away strands of hair away from her face and grimaced. She was sweating. She looked around the track, moon and stars and it was still smoldering hot out, or maybe it was just because she was running so hard. She continued to huff and puff. Her breathing wasn't settling. Her heart felt constricted by the heat and fabric that stuck to her skin. Her head dipped low as she focused on the beating of her heart and she put her hands on her hips. _I'm alone, fuck it._ She concluded, taking the hem of her sticky tank top and pulling it over her head. She saw other girls practicing in just a sports bra, but she never had. She didn't know why, it wasn't like she was self conscious or anything.

The heat and pressure melted away from her chest immediately, and she took a deep breath through her nose as a cooling breeze grazed across her bare stomach. God, she felt so much better. She took another swig of water and looked towards the parking lot, it was just visible from around the corner of the school. Where was her father?

Needing to take a break, Sarah sat on the track and started stretching. She bent one leg, and extended the other, stretching her arms out to clasp around the sole of her foot, working her hamstring. After a few seconds, she switched to the other leg. She then stood and stepped towards the fence. She raised one leg and propped her heel over the railing and bent down to touch the toe of her other foot. She heard a noise and paused.

Sarah looked up, leg still extended high the air, and scanned her eyes in the direction she thought she heard the sound. It was dark out, even with the stadium lights on, she couldn't see very far. She heard the noise again, louder this time. She removed her leg from the fence and stood, looking up and all around. She heard it again, from behind her this time. She whirled around and saw nothing. _What was that? It was like...a rustling -flapping? A bird maybe?_ She wondered, still gazing up into the night sky.

A few minutes past, and she gave up her visual interrogation of the night sky and lowered her head. She took a step away from the fence, heading back towards the starting line, when something caught her eye.

Sarah paused mid-stride, She'd caught something out of the corner of her eye, something white, hugely contrasting with the night around her. She turned her head to face it and found herself momentarily stupefied.

Sarah blinked, and tilted her head slightly, registering the white and golden barn owl that stared back. It cocked its head to one side, mimicking Sarah. She tilted her head to the other side, and again, the bird mimicked. She straightened her back and took a couple more steps. The owl shuffled along the steeple it had perched on and waited. Sarah blinked a few more times, and slowly felt the clamp on her jaw start to loosen. She was wary, catching the glint the light reflected off its curling talons. What was an owl doing so close? Was something wrong with it? Would it attack her? She wondered.

Minutes and minutes past, as Sarah and the owl blankly stared at one another. When it seemed enough time had past to bring her mind out of the danger zone and rule the bird's presence as safe and disease free, Sarah's inner voice of reason gave way to its mischievous counterpart and entertained the idea that she knew exactly what it was doing there.

In an instant, Sarah's demeanor changed, the stance of her body exuding a very different kind of aura. She narrowed her eyes on the owl, and it blinked in response.

"I knew an owl like you once." Sarah said casually. She paused and reached down for her water. "He was a special owl." She crinkled her nose and sneered, glancing at the bird as she pursed her lips around the mouth piece of her water bottle. The bird cocked its head and leaned forward, ruffling its feathers. "He had magic powers and could do all kinds of wonderful things." She waved her hand around in the air. "But he was selfish, and arrogant, and cruel and it ended up coming back to bite him in the ass." She hissed, glaring at the innocent owl.

The owl ruffled its feathers and covered its head with its wing. Sarah cracked a smirk and huffed. This was fun. She'd never openly discussed the Goblin King before -aside from with Hoggle and the gang.

"But you're nothing like that." She said, setting her water bottle back on the ground. "If you were, you would be spouting glitter by now." The owl turned its head almost a full 180 degrees. Aw, how adorable. Sarah snickered to herself and started stretching again, extending her legs and reaching in all kinds of exaggerated poses. Yes, she was giving the bird a show, why the hell not? It was fun pretending. She hadn't made a wish, so there was no way it could actually be Jareth, right?

When she was good and limber, Sarah stood and oriented herself to the starting line.

"Bird, you wanna keep time? States is coming up soon. I'm going for gold." She said, glancing over her shoulder. The owl teetered from foot to foot. Sarah took that as a yes. She turned back around and faced the line of hurdles. She hunkered down into position and raised her derrière high into the air, quietly smiling to herself. Oh, this was so wrong. "You ready?" She called, twisting her toe into the grit. "Set!" She tensed her arms and lowered her head. "Go!" She hollered, and took off in the blink of an eye.

The owl perched silently on the wooden beam of the steeple, leaning forward and watching Sarah with interest as she bounded over each hurdle. She flew with easy grace, making her actual jumps hardly distinguishable from her sprint. Her body streamlined down the track. She kept her head low, and extended her arms in perfect posture. The owl cocked its head. She really was very good, not to mention the stretch and curve her barely clad body made with each jump. The owl ruffled its feathers again, and shook its head.

_One, two, three, jump. One, two, three, jump._ Sarah's mind murmured, concentrating on each jump, and watching as she came closer and closer towards the finish line. After her final landing, she hunkered down into super streamline mode and sprinted the twenty foot straightaway across the finish line. She reduced her pace until she came to an easy halt, and put her hands over the top of her head as she caught her breath. She leaned against another steeple that was left off to the side and looked up the track. She frowned, the owl was gone. _Aw, we were having such a nice conversation. _She pouted.

"Eleven point two." Came a precise and highly annunciated voice. Sarah yelped and dashed off of the steeple and into the middle of the track. _Oh My Holy Fucking Shit! _She stumbled and whipped around, eyes wide and frantic.

"What the fuck!" She shrieked on reflex, bringing a hand to her chest when her heart lurched against her ribcage. _Oh my god..._

Jareth sat on the steeple perched on his toes, resting his forearms on his knees. He tilted his head to one side, and snickered.

"Not what you were hoping for?" Jareth asked with a sneering hiss. Sarah's eyes widened and she straightened her back. _My God, it's really him. It's -Jareth! The Fucking Goblin King! Oh my god..._

Sarah's eyes slowly fell over the picture that was Jareth the Goblin King. He was perched up on his toes like an -owl. He was dressed in all black, the neck of his shirt hung low and flowed in the slight breeze. Sarah gulped. _Fuck._ He looked exactly as she remembered him -no, better. Dream Jareth had nothing on this. He hadn't aged a day. He had such a lithe frame and eerie sensuality. His hair was just as messy and perfect as she remembered, framing his sharp features. His eyes were done up in a smokey black that made his pale blue eyes burn from his face. Sarah's mouth started to water. _Shit. Stop it, Sarah. He's really here, this isn't a dream. You know this can't be good. Stop gawking -Stttopppppppp. Composure Sarah! Control the situation!_ She screamed at herself.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Sarah demanded, taking half a step back. Jareth regarded her shrewdly, reveling in the element of surprise.

"Now why all the hostility? We were having such a pleasant conversation." He said with total wickedness. Sarah's jaw tensed. _Shit. I said all those things! Shit! I practically flaunted my ass in his face! Fuck! No, Sarah. Do. Not. Panic._ She thought over and over.

"I-I thought - How? Why- How are you even here? I didn't say the words. I didn't make a wish." She stumbled over her own tongue, trying to decide which question was more important- how or why. Jareth gave a dismissive glance off to the side.

"Good. Because I'm not here to grant you one." He said, hunkering down to actually sit on the steeple. Sarah's eyes narrowed, fighting not trail her eyes up his legs.

"Then what are you doing here." She demanded, shrouding her fear behind anger and an offensive demeanor.

"So serious, can I not simply drop by to visit an old friend?" He asked, placing a hand over his heart and trying to look somewhat hurt. Sarah fisted her hands.

"Then you must be lost because I'm not your friend, Jareth." She said with warning. Jareth flashed her a quick smirk.

"Friend, nemesis, same difference." He said with a toothy sneer, locking his eyes with hers. Sarah's ears twitched with the intensity of his gaze.

"I haven't seen or heard from you in three years. Why now? What do you want from me?" She asked, holding her ground.

"I don't want anything from you." Jareth answered, stepping down from the steeple and taking a few steps towards her. Sarah dug her heel into the ground. Fuck he was hot. Years of dreams could not have prepared her for this.

"Well, you're here for a reason." Sarah simplified, darting her eyes down his chest as he approached her, and then rose them back to his face once he was standing in front of her. Her mouth gaped open just a bit. He was so close. She could smell his rich aroma washing over her.

"Would it suffice if I said I missed you?" Jareth asked, observing the way her chest rose and fell with his proximity. Sarah felt a heat flare. Was this the start to one of her dreams?

"And why would you miss me?" She asked, locking her eyes on his nose to avoid his vicious stare.

"I think you have an inkling." He said, lowering his gaze over Sarah's body. Sarah gulped, just now realizing all she was wearing was a work out bra and some booty shorts.

"No, not really." She responded, her eyes scanned Jareth's face furiously for any clue as to what he was thinking.

"You're wet." Jareth observed, and ran a finger down the side of Sarah's waist, which was glistening with sweat from her previous exertions. Sarah's chest rose, but she remained still. _Fuck. Why is he touching me. Focus!_ She would not give in to his distractions. "Something tells me you're not as surprised to see me as you're pretending to be." His voice was low and soft. His eyes caught the glint of Sarah's necklace, and followed it down into the shadowed hollow between her breasts. It was then that he felt a strong urge to find out what was hanging at the end of her chain. Sarah gulped._ Probably because I've been thinking of nothing but you since my dream last night. Wait...I have a crazy real dream and now he's here? There's no way that's coincidence._

"Are you going to tell me what the hell it is you're doing here?" Sarah demanded, glancing down at his wayward finger. She gulped. He was still touching her. Jareth tilted his head slightly, roaming his dark gaze over Sarah's shiny form once more, his eyes catching on her belly button this time.

"You've grown since the last time I've seen you." Jareth rumbled with lingering sensuality, changing the direction of his finger to trail along the waist band of her shorts. Sarah's nostrils flared. No, this was too much.

"Jareth stop. Don't touch me. This is weird." Sarah said, glancing nervously away from him. He brought his eyes to her face, his expression stoned with dark determination.

"And why is that?" He asked, bringing the rest of his fingers to join the first and started a new trail back up her side. Sarah flinched away from him. His ego smiled. Yes, he definitely had an affect on her.

"You want the list?" She blurted, now conscious more than ever as to her revealing apparel. She thought about going to get her tank top, but immediately decided against it. Doing so would show him he affected her (too bad he already knew), and she'd be damned if she gave him that satisfaction. Jareth looked at her with amused interest, silently pushing her to continue. She huffed. "Maybe because the last time we saw each other was when you kidnapped my baby brother and did everything you could to stop me from getting him back? Or the fact that I was just a kid, hell I still kind of am and you're how old? Doesn't that strike you as a little wrong? Or even just the simple fact that we didn't exactly part on the best of terms." She rambled, forcing herself to stop before she got too worked up. Geez, why couldn't this just be another dream?

"I am immortal, Sarah. Age has no meaning to me." Jareth's voice was soft and informative. Sarah tried to remain impassive. _Well of course he doesn't care about age! Fucking pedo!_Her inner voice shrieked. _What do you mean pedo? How many hot nasty dreams have you had about him? Don't go all hypocritical now just because he's finally showed up._ Said its raunchy counterpart. Sarah's mind had been waging war a lot lately, she'd have to give them names soon.

"And you're not mad at me for beating your Labyrinth?" She asked. Jareth paused, then continued drinking in her body.

"No...I find your victory rather -admirable." He said slowly -reluctantly, as if testing the thought as he said it.

"You still haven't told me why you're here. You didn't just pop in at random for no reason. And don't say it's because you missed me because I'm not buying it." Sarah spat, darting out a finger and jabbing him in the chest. Ok, that gesture was a little unnecessary. She just wanted to touch him. Jareth slowly reached up and took told of her accusing finger with two of his own, and directed it away from him. He didn't like to be jabbed at, but he was able to suppress his annoyance. Sarah watched as he turned her hand away from him -and didn't let go.

"I hear it's your birthday today." He purred. Sarah was taken back. _Really? Why the hell is my birthday so damned important?_ She scoffed.

"Yea? Who'd you hear that from?" Sarah countered, sounding irritated. Jareth gave her a sly grin.

"You're quite popular with the boys aren't you?" He deflected. Sarah scowled.

"What are you talk- wait. You mean today? Mr Crone, Ben, Tommy, that was all you?" She asked in shocked horror. Jareth gave a cheeky smile.

"You were so flustered. I must say, I rather enjoyed playing high school for a day." He snickered. Sarah was starting to grow uncomfortable. _I knew there was something strange going on..._

"Jared? You were Jared too? Just today? Or have you always been him?" She asked accusingly. Jareth's smile grew bigger.

"Just today." He answered, and paused. "He's a very lucky boy." He added, running his tongue along his teeth as he stared at her. "Tell me, would you like to borrow my Chapstick, Sarah?" He asked sarcastically. Sarah's face flushed beat red. _Fuck. _She'd made out with him how many times? But it wasn't him, it was Jared. No, it was him pretending to be Jared._Fucking shit._

"So you've been fucking with me all day? Why?" She asked, glaring at him.

"To shatter your nerves, of course." He stated, as if revealing some diabolical plan. Sarah drew her brow at him.

"Why?" She asked.

"To better prepare you for our reunion." He replied. Sarah pursed her lips at him.

"A reunion you still haven't said the reason for." Sarah snapped. Jareth's smile retreated to a humble grin, and he eyed her with prepared anticipation.

"Come, come, Sarah. I'm not here to fight you, relax. It's your birthday. I've brought you a gift." He said, all light hearted and seductive.

"What?" Sarah gaped and scowled at the same time. Jareth took a step away from her and watched as the confusion played openly across her face. "What? Why? You going to offer me my dreams again?" She asked sardonically. Jareth forced a sneer.

"No. Only one." He said, and conjured a crystal which rolled and perched at the steeple of his fingers. Sarah looked from the crystal to him, worriedly.

"And what one would that be?" She asked, and balanced on her toes, not sure if she was about to take a step towards or away from him.

"The one you want me to give you." He said, and stared at her maliciously as she weighed her decision. She reached out, but caught herself.

"How do I know I can trust you?" She asked. Jareth tilted his head to one side.

"This is your dream after all, besides, have I ever lied to you?" He asked. Sarah stared for a moment, like his words meant more than what they seemed, and then slowly, she reached out for the crystal he held between them. She took it, and held it close to her face. "See how easy that was? And to think I went through so much trouble the first time." He said. Sarah scowled into the orb, she couldn't see anything.

"There was more at stake the first time." She said, and lowered her eyes back to the crystal. "I don't understand, I don't see anything." She added and looked up, sensing Jareth's smirk.

"That's because what you want me to give you isn't in that crystal." He said, with a one sided sneer plastered on his smug face. Sarah continued to scowl.

"Then where is it?" She asked, giving him an genuinely perplexed expression. Jareth blinked, slowly, and roamed his eyes from nose to toe on Sarah's body.

"Right in front of you." He said, and assumed a stance that could only be described as predatory.

"Wh-what?" She asked, bemused, abashed and embarrassed beyond all reason. A blooming blush flushed her face in an instant, which only made his smile broaden. He stepped towards her, and gently brushed his fingers along her jaw. Sarah stood, immobile, her heart beating faster and faster. His eyes racked down her one more time before settling on hers. There was both fire and darkness in his eyes. "How you have grown." He murmured, and gently tugged on her jaw to meet him half way as he kissed her.

Sarah froze for just a moment. Jareth was kissing her. Jareth -the Goblin King- had just shown up and given her a birthday kiss. _What the fuck? _She snapped back to reality the moment his lips moved against hers. her heart and mind sank, giving in instantly. She opened up to him, amplifying whatever small amount of passion Jareth had initiated and stepped into him. The moment was slow, and was only ended by the feel of Jareth's leather-clad hands cupping her cheeks and pushing her away.

She beamed up at him, truly beamed. Everything seemed so surreal. After so many years, Jareth had just shown up out of no where. So many years of wondering where he was, what he was doing, so much fear of ever finding out how he truly felt about her. And now, here he was, pulling away from the most amazing kiss she'd ever experienced.

Her sparkling expression soon turned to a frown when he started stepping away from her, backing off into the darkness. She reached out and called for him.

"Wait! Jareth- where are you going?" She yelled, almost sounding desperate. He paused in his step, and turned to look her straight in the eye, his gaze narrowed just a bit. "You can't -you can't just leave! You can't just show up after so much time and just leave with no explanation!" She continued. A worried brow joined her frown, surprising her with her own level of franticness. Jareth stood taller, and moved a foot as if to take a step towards her, but otherwise remained still. She shook her head and stomped towards him. "You can't leave me, Jareth. You can't." She said, still shaking her head from side to side. She stopped once she stood before him, planting her feet into the grit of the track in much the same way he was and turned her head skywards to meet his gaze. "You said you're giving me my dream. That means this is a dream. This is my dream, Jareth." She said, with firm resolve.

There may have been a subtle flinch in Jareth's demeanor, but it seemed to go unnoticed. He briefly wondered if she actually knew what she was saying.

"Yes, this is your dream, Sarah." He said, warily it seemed. Sarah pursed her lips as she glared at him, trying to cover the fact that she was holding back tears. Feeling her wall about to break, she bit her lower lip and threw herself at him, wrapping her arms around him as if she were hanging on for dear life. At first, Jareth didn't know how to respond. He held his arms suspended out around her, not sure if he should reciprocate her gesture.

"This is my dream. I don't want you to leave. You can't leave me. I don't want to wake up." She whimpered. Something struck Jareth hard then. He was starting to believe she was just as aware of what was going on as he was, but why was she behaving this way? Saying these things? Surely she didn't mean them?

"Why?" He asked, Sarah's grip around his torso tightened.

"Because I don't want to be alone."

Jareth paused, a little shocked, or caught of guard at the very least. What?

"You're not alone, Sarah." He didn't understand. If she knew this was a dream, and wanted him to stay, then she knew he would also be there when she woke up anyway. What was going on exactly?

"Yes, yes I am. This is my dream. You're the Jareth I want. If you leave and I wake up, I'll be with him. The real you. And I'll be alone. I don't want to be alone."

Jareth could feel the slight tremble moving through her arms as she spoke. It was like she was afraid, afraid of waking up, of having to see _him_ again. A realization hit him, that she thought that just because this was a dream it meant that he was a figment of her imagination as well. What's more, she actually_ wanted_ to be with him -the version from her dreams. He didn't know which hurt worse, thinking that she down right hated him, or knowing that she wanted a different version of himself -someone that wasn't really him, that he would never be. He pushed her away and brought his hands to cup her face once more.

"You're never alone, Sarah." He said, and pulled her up onto her toes so he could kiss her once more.

* * *

  



	11. Fickle and Shag part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While unbeknown to her, Sarah has succeeded in obtaining the one thing the Goblin King has desired for hundreds of years -power over the Labyrinth. After being hidden for years from his diabolical wrath, Sarah finds herself alone and vulnerable as Jareth's dark desires are finally aloud to rear their ugly heads. As always, the only question is, are things really as they seem?

Sarah rolled in her sleep, causing the blanket she'd been draped with to fall down her torso. She shivered with its absence, and slowly blinked herself awake. The first thing she saw was the light from the window. It was bright this morning, birds and other Underground creatures chirped and sang from the outside world. She stretched out for a moment, and smiled when she realized she wasn't wrapped around Jareth. At the same time, the thought alarmed her. Where was he? Was his absence good or bad? She focused her eyes on her surroundings and sat up on her hands. She started looking around the room when she spotted the answer to her question.

Jareth was sitting on the edge of the bed, facing away from her. He was staring down -at the floor? Regardless, he didn't look up when she stirred. He looked -preoccupied. Sarah gave him a groggy scowl. The crease in his brow made him look like he was sitting in time out or something, muttering curse words under his breath like a scorned child.

"Well that was certainly...interesting." He said, cryptically, after a long pause. Sarah's eyes went from him, off to the side and then down in her lap. _Shit- he was in that dream? That's...not good. _She thought and slowly rose her eyes back up to him. She knew it was a dream...why did she think that wasn't the Real Jareth? Of course it would be, he'd been invading her dreams every night since he'd taken her. And yet he acted the way she wanted him to act, the way _Dream Jareth _would have acted. Why bother putting on such a show? She narrowed her eyes on him then. _Why is he way down there? _She observed. She didn't respond to his statement, and simply looked away. "I take it that's the night you would have preferred?...in part." He asked, and actually turned to look at her. Sarah rolled her eyes and threw herself back into the mattress. If he was fishing for some kind of reaction, she wouldn't give him one. She was too drained to fight this morning, choosing instead to wield the weapon of indifference.

"That's the _you_ I would have preferred." She grumbled, and closed her eyes as if to fall back asleep. There was no use in denying the context of her dream, he knew it as well as she did. It was best to come off as aloof.

"Well, progress is progress." He said. Sarah snapped one eye open. The tone of his voice changed dramatically just then. He was back to his usual self. Now would be a good time to be angry. _What is that supposed to mean?_

"Might I ask what it is you're doing here? You show up every morning, is this how it's going to be? I thought you were a king, don't you have duties, obligations to attend to?" She snarled and glared at him from the safety of her pillow. It was a little strange, she wasn't afraid and hardly wary of him this morning. Jareth's mellow expression curled up in a sneer. He leaned over and crawled up on the bed. Sarah rolled on her side. He was already too close to try and get away, but at least she didn't have to face him.

"Actually..." He started, and moved to straddle her. "No, this is not how it will be. As I plan to have you warming my bed every morning, there will be no reason for me to venture here to wake you. As for my obligations, you are one of them. The most important of which at the moment." He said. Sarah glared into the sheets, and remained a stone beneath him.

"Could you please not touch me?" She asked. Jareth stared at her for a moment. He was expecting another riled fight this morning, and was actually a little disappointed by her lack of fire. What was wrong with her?

"I believe you just made a request of me. What, no demands? Something must be wrong. Are you feeling alright, Sarah?" He asked. He was a little confused, he was laying full out against her and she hadn't so much as tensed. Her lack of offense was nice, but it was disarming also.

"I'm asking you, Jareth, please, just stay out of my dreams." She asked. Her voice was low, and soft, like all the fight had been stolen from her. Jareth drew his brow on her profile, she wouldn't look at him.

"Why? You have quite the imagination." He asked. The echo of his own voice made himself aware that he was purposefully goading her. Why? She sighed, and glared more intently into the sheets.

"Because it's the only place where I can escape you." She said, hoping that her honesty would have a more beneficial impact on him. Jareth cocked his head to one side. He was angered by her words, maybe even offended, but he was too engrossed in her strange behavior to act on it.

"Sarah, I'm with you even in your dreams." He pointed out. Sarah closed her eyes briefly, as if swallowing some distasteful retort for his expense. His scowl intensified. He didn't like the look on her face.

"Maybe, but you'll never be the man _from_ my dreams." She said, cold and sharp.

Jareth stared for a moment. Her words...they bore into him in a way he hadn't expected. He actually felt...hurt, pained by them. He wasn't expecting it, that kind of feeling. He'd been having so much fun in their little game, he hadn't thought much outside of it. The fact that one simple sentence held such volume within him made him angry. From the night he'd first visited Sarah, he'd told himself that no matter how much this was about her, it wasn't about her. He was being foolish. He had a mission, a goal, and now that the barrier was gone he wouldn't let anything stand in his way, especially his own emotions. There was a time for all of that, but it wasn't now, not with his goal so close at hand.

"That's because I am more than you could ever dream of." He said and was secretly glad she kept her stare away from him, his glare would give away his true feeling. Sarah huffed and shook her head. He was so arrogant.

"Don't sound so sure, I have quite the imagination after all." She said, distastefully. Jareth sneered down at her. His hands were tightening around the blankets concealing her, and threatened to inch their way to her neck and force her to look at him. For some reason, it was that that was what wound him up the most -that she wouldn't look at him. It was like she was in fact looking down on him. Who was she that made her so superior all of the sudden?

"If you require any sort of affirmation, I would be only too happy to oblige." He said. His voice was strained, like he was having a hard time holding back. He expected Sarah to tense, to flinch, become aggressive, anything. But still, she remained a statue.

"I'll keep that in mind." She muttered, and closed her eyes once more. Jareth almost snarled._ She's dismissing me? Disrespectful little-_

"I don't appreciate this tone of yours, Sarah." He said, in warning. It was the only one he was going to give her. Sarah opened her eyes again and rolled onto her back, so that they were face to face, apparently unaffected by their intimate proximity. She looked at him, with an unreadable expression and sighed. Jareth's eyes were hard. He was confused and wary by the look on her face, but he wasn't about to back down.

Sarah stared for a long while, or it seemed long to her anyway. During her whole conversation with Jareth, she hadn't really been paying attention to him. Her thoughts were scattered around _Dream Jareth._ Deep down, she knew she wanted him, but it was the version from her dreams she desired not the bipolar madman looming over her. It was strange, looking him in the eye now. They looked the same, sounded the same...felt the same. But they weren't the same, and he had offered her a clear reminder of that flat out. Why? Why couldn't things be different? Even if they could, did she want to give in? Would her pride allow her to submit to him? Even for the sake of her own happiness? No. But, pretending might make life easier for the long run. Hmm... She hadn't thought of that. As she stared into Jareth's hard gaze, she thought to give it a try. If pretending to submit meant getting him off her back, then she was willing to swallow some pride for the sake of her own wellbeing.

"I...I'm sorry." She said. The sound was soft, yet held volumes between them.

"What?" Jareth almost spat, and seemed to go even more offensive.

"I'm just...feeling kind of crabby this morning. I apologize." She elaborated -mostly true. Jareth's eyes narrowed on her, suspicion pouring heavily out of them. She could feel the tension he exuded into the blanket. He was angry, but he hadn't touched her yet. That was good.

"You don't mean that. But it's a step." Jareth said, after a moment and moved off of her. Sarah's eyes followed him, completely indifferent to the fact that she had gotten her way. Maybe he was in a bit more docile mood after last night's encounter as well? Or was it because of her awkward dream? Though she did feel a certain level of indifference this morning, she hadn't lied when she said she was in a sour mood. She wanted nothing more than for him to leave so she could hide under the blankets and sleep the day away. Chances were, she wasn't going to get her wish.

Sarah sat up in bed, and placed her hands in her lap.

"So, what do you have planned for me today?" She asked. Jareth rose from the bed and began to pace around it, adjusting the cuffs of his sleeves along the way.

"Well, confirming your earlier question, I have duties to which I must attend." He said, and paused. It looked like his eyes caught on something, but he recovered quickly and looked away. Sarah tilted her head slightly.

"Ok...so why did you come and wake me up then?" She asked.

"I didn't. You woke up all on your own." He answered, dismissively. Sarah scowled. _He would have let me go on sleeping? What was he doing? Just watching me? Invading my dreams to no end? Was he looking for something in my head? Creep._ She thought.

"Alright. Well, since I'm not needed till later, I'm going back to bed." She said, and thumped herself into the mattress. Jareth turned and smirked.

"Are you sure you're feeling alright?" He asked. His lips curled up in half a smirk, but something in his voice betrayed how unsure he felt. Sarah stared into her pillow. She heard a level of concern in his voice, though she admitted it was most likely due to her break in morning ritual of trying to bite his head off that set him off balance rather than true and honest care.

"Now that you mention it, no. I'm feeling a little homesick, actually. Can't imagine why, though." She said, light and sarcastically. A true sneer finally set on Jareth's lips; maybe she was still in there after all.

"In that case, I'll leave you to rest. I'll be back for you in the afternoon." He said, and walked away from the bed to disappear around the corner.

Sarah blinked at the now empty room. That went...so much smoother than before. She almost couldn't believe it. Was he just in a hurry, or was it something else? She laid back down and closed her eyes, determined not to waste her precious alone time thinking about Jareth and instead tried to focus on something less infuriating.

* * *

Sarah sighed into her pillow. She'd been tossing and turning for what felt like hours. She'd tried to sleep, but she couldn't get Jareth's damn proclamation out of her head._ I'm with you even in your dreams... Damn him. Why did he have to go and ruin the one haven I had left?_ Even Dream Jareth had been tainted by those words. She felt dirty and wrong, but couldn't stop the dreams from formulating. Maybe he was sending them to her? Or maybe she just had a lot on her mind... either way, her lazy morning was turning out to be quite the hassle.

She sighed a second time, and felt instantly settled -like the flick of a switch. She didn't question it, and snugged further into blankets, determined to gain some means of sleep, when a disturbance broke through the sound barrier.

Sarah snapped her eyes open. She could see a clock on the wall out of the corner of her eye. It was only eleven, Jareth shouldn't be back yet. Tiny alarm bells went off in the back of her mind, but they were clouded. She sat up and looked around, and gasped when she saw a familiar elegant figure looming by the window.

"Holy -Liana? Shit. You startled me." Sarah spat, but her surprise quickly melted away as her eyes caught the strange woman.

She was standing with her back to her. Her auburn hair was pulled back into one long cascade of curl. Her dress was white today, and looked like it was made of giant flower peddles. She turned to glance over her shoulder, and smiled.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Sarah. I didn't mean to disturb you." She said. Her angelic smile lit up the entire room. Sarah shrank in her spot, remembering her and Jareth's miscommunication about them being married, and her own ridiculous jealousy over the matter. She felt silly.

"Um...can I ask what it is you're doing in my room?" Sarah asked, and tried to sound as innocent as possible and hide just how weirded out she was by Liana's surprise appearance. It was one thing when Jareth showed up, but she didn't even know who this woman was.

Liana's brow shot up in surprise, and she smiled bashfully with her own embarrassment. Sarah gawked. Why was this woman in Jareth's castle again?

"Oh, dear, my apologies. I thought we might have lunch together, but you were asleep. I didn't want to wake you, though you stirred before I had the chance to leave." She said. Sarah pursed her lips and looked over her cotton nightgown clad self with another wave of embarrassment.

"I- I'm sorry, I'd love to have lunch with you, but I'm not even dressed yet." She said with a shrug. Liana turned fully and smiled even broader.

"That's alright, I can wait. Or, we can dine in your current state, I don't mind." She said, and lightly stepped her way over towards the lounge area of the room. Sarah watched warily, and then quickly gathered herself from the bed and headed towards the dressers. After snatching a random bundle of clothing, she poked her head around the corner and called out-

"I'll just be a few minutes." And then skipped into the bathroom.

She emerged ten minutes later in yet another pants and boots outfit. She tried her best not to think of Jareth's words regarding her apparel from the previous night. Liana was patiently perched on the edge of a chair, with her hands politely folded in her lap.

"Don't you look lovely." Liana said, with another million dollar smile. Sarah's eyes darted for a minute.

"Uh, thank you?" She said, and sat in the chair adjacent Liana's. "I apologize for keeping you waiting...I wasn't expecting any visitors." She said, trying to mimic Liana's posture. The mysterious woman smiled and fluttered her eye lashes.

"Sarah, don't apologize. I am the intruder after all." She said, and turned to look down at the table. Sarah watched as she waved a hand over its surface -just like Jareth had- and a plate donned with small, what looked to be turkey sandwiches, appeared before them.

"Are those...turkey sandwiches? With lettuce, tomato, mayo and bacon?" Sarah asked, highly amused and a little curious by Liana's very specific choice.

"Yes." Sarah shook her head.

"How-" She started to ask, but was interrupted.

"Lucky guess?" Liana said, giving her a soon to be trademark smile. Sarah couldn't help but smile back and reached out for the finger food. They weren't quiet for long before Sarah sought to get straight to the point.

"Liana? I don't mean to be blunt, but who are you?" Sarah asked. Liana sucked on her thumb before responding.

"I'm a friend." She answered. The aloofness of her answer was masked by the genuineness of her expression. Sarah focused her eyes more intently on her.

"Ok, but who are you? Who are you to Jareth? Why are you in his castle? And how do I know I can trust you?" She knew she shouldn't just blindly trust this woman. She knew she should be suspicious. But for some reason...she just wasn't. And deep down, she knew she should be concerned with her level of acceptance of this mysterious stranger, but she just...wasn't. Liana paused to look up at her.

"I've known His Majesty for a very long time. I know what he has planned for you, and from one girl to another, I just want to help you. Not just to survive, but to live as well. As far as proof I am not deceiving you for some ulterior motive, I am not asking you to make any deals or play any games. All I ask is your time and company." She said. Sarah's gaze drifted away, and she nodded as if she understood. Did this woman really just want to be gal pals? Was Jareth really so awful that some random woman sought to take pity on her? And that still didn't explain what she was doing lurking about his castle, why she obviously talked to him about personal matters. Who is she? She continued to maul over her connection to Jareth as she gnawed on her sandwich.

"How did you know this was my room?" Sarah decided to ask, mostly because she felt she should say something and avoid an awkward silence.

"I know my way around the castle." She answered.

"I thought you were Jareth's wife when we first met...it seems silly now. I should have just asked you, but I was too embarrassed I guess.." Sarah muttered, distractedly. Liana's brow shot up.

"Married? Me? To the Goblin King?" She asked, with just as much disbelief as Jareth had. Sarah furrowed her brow. They didn't seem to like each other very much. Liana glanced over to see the worried look on Sarah's face and quickly recovered. "Forgive me, Sarah, but mine and His Majesty's relationship is strictly business." She said with lingering amusement.

"What do you mean?" Sarah asked. Liana ceased her giggling before she answered.

"I assist His Majesty with affairs he is unable to manage." She said, curtly. Sarah continued to look puzzled.

"Affairs he's unable to manage? Like what? Are you more powerful than him?" Sarah asked. Liana took in a shallow breath, there were only so many ways she could answer those questions.

"I wouldn't say I'm more powerful...we're just privy to two different forms of magic." She explained. Sarah nodded.

"I don't understand. There's different forms of magic?"

"Yes." Sarah pursed her lips.

"Would you be willing to explain it to me, please?" She asked, more specifically. Liana rested her hands in her lap, as if preparing for a long speech.

"His Majesty is a very powerful being. But you know that." She started, giving Sarah a small curl of the lips. "He is capable of doing almost anything, whereas I am capable of doing everything." The wording of her statement mixed with the small flare in her eyes made Sarah's back straighten. Maybe there was a reason Jareth didn't want her alone with this woman. If she was more powerful than Jareth...

"I'm afraid I still don't understand."

"Maybe an example will better explain." Liana said and turned towards the table. She waved a hand over it and a lone cup of tea miraculously appeared. Sarah waited for something, but she did nothing.

"Tea?" Sarah asked, hoping that would get a move on. Liana blinked up and smiled.

"Yes, tea. His Majesty has the power to manipulate reality, to bend it and even break it. But he can not create it. For instance, let's pretend I am His Majesty. If I were to conjure you this cup of tea here, what do you think is actually happening?" She asked. Sarah gaped a moment. _How the hell should I know?_

"Uhhm, I have no idea." She said, more politely than her thoughts. Liana took her words as a signal to continue.

"Well, I can explain that the cup of tea didn't just spontaneously appear. This cup would have already existed, stored somewhere within the castle or anywhere within the material world. The tea would have been preexisting as well, either already brewed or in its dry form. With His Majesty's magic, he can take these different elements of reality and combine them into something else, a cup, a tea leaf, and water, perhaps located from the very same room or each from the far corners of the world. He can combine these solitary elements to make a new entity. The hot brewing cup of tea you see before you." The look on Sarah's face said Liana had all of her attention, but she was still wrought with confusion.

"How is that different from you, then?" She asked. Liana smiled something dark. It reminded her of one of Jareth's expressions. Maybe it was a Fae thing. She was a Fae -right?

"You see, while His Majesty draws from elements within reality, I am able to create the elements themselves. When I conjure a cup of tea, I take no preexisting elements. The cup, the tea, the water, I am able to draw from raw magic to create matter itself, rather than molding preexisting matter into something new." She said and reached down to take hold of the cup. She raised it to her lips and took a small sip before turning to glance at Sarah. "Does that help you understand?" She asked.

Sarah thought a moment. Liana's example made sense, but she figured it was actually a lot more complicated than that, and wondered _why?_ Why did this woman have access to that kind of power and not Jareth? And why did he need her help? What went on in this world that he and all his might couldn't handle?

"Yes, it does actually. ...So, you help Jareth then? You're friends?" She asked, just trying to put one of the million pieces together.

"I wouldn't say that."

"But...but you talk to him...late at night. You stay in his castle. You knew about me. You said you tried telling him not to take me. I don't know..that just seems kind of personal to me." She realized how ridiculous she must sound and trailed off. Liana reached out and clasped Sarah's hand.

"We have a very strict arrangement with one another. We've been...partners for a very long time Sarah. We are familiar, but that does not mean we have any sort of friendship. My duty is to this world, not to him." She said, compelling Sarah to calm down just a little.

Sarah let out a breath. It was strange...she felt more at ease all of the sudden.

"Then why are you helping me?"

"Because I want to. And because you need it. As one who knows His Majesty, I can sympathize with your situation." The tone of the second half of her statement heightened Sarah's attention once more. She looked worried now. _Great, someone else's pity, just what I need._ She grumbled to herself.

"How can you help me? I'm guessing by giving me some more friendly advice on how to handle him since you seem to know how he works?" She asked, recalling their last conversation about picking battles and playing games.

"Precisely." Liana answered, squeezing Sarah's hand just a bit.

"Alright. You told me to pick my battles. I can sense that's going to be a tough one, considering how much he pisses me off. And the whole playing games thing...I don't think I'm manipulative enough to go up against him..." Sarah said, and glanced down to her and Liana's hand resting in her lap.

"You don't give yourself enough credit." Something about Liana's demeanor shifted just then, as if she were radiating waves of energy directly to Sarah. It was a strange feeling...rattling her and making her uncomfortable.

"I just don't know what to do. I have nothing, nothing to go at him with. He has every advantage." She said, rolled her head in an exasperated gesture. Her heart quickened for some reason, like she was experiencing an adrenaline spike.

"You are your own advantage, Sarah." Liana said. There was a pause.

"What do you mean?" Sarah asked, catching the spark in Liana's eye and forgetting her strange palpitations for the moment.

"I know you're upset over the circumstances, but you need to broaden your view of the situation. He took you here, he's marrying you."

"He kidnapped me, threatened me, is forcing me to marry him-"

"Because he wants you, Sarah." Liana's words seemed to echo for a moment, before Sarah shook free of them.

"He doesn't want me. He wants to fuck with me. He wants revenge." She said, sounding so sure of herself.

"I thought I told you to call his bluffs." Again, Sarah paused.

"What bluff?" She asked.

"He wants _you_, Sarah. You have something he wants, and that gives you the advantage. Use it to your benefit." Liana said, rather darkly, which was odd to see since her face was the pinnacle of everything that was good and kind.

"I don't understand. How am I supposed to do that? If I defy him he'll just hurt me, or assault me, or do something to me that will inevitably result in him getting what he wants anyway. I'm not strong, I don't have magic, I'm all alone in this world. I can't win against him." She shook her head in despair.

"So, you're just going to give up then?" Liana asked and squeezed Sarah's hand harder. Sarah's head darted up then, there was an instant fire in her eyes and she felt her heart quicken once again.

"No. No matter what, I'll never stop fighting him. I don't care what he does to me. I'll never give in. I'll never submit. He will never get what he wants." Their eyes locked for a moment. Sarah felt something strange pass between them...a force. There was a connection, thick and palpable, sparking spontaneously. It didn't last long, but for a split second Sarah felt...strong, she felt powerful. The look in Liana's eye...it was...dare she say -conniving?

"That's good. Don't ever stop fighting him, Sarah. That is perhaps the most important piece of advice I could ever give you. Your will is just as strong as his. Never forget that." The darkness in her eyes gave her a sharpness that was as deadly as a razor-bade. It was like her mask of bubbly smiles had slipped to reveal something...else. Sarah began to narrow her eyes and force herself to concentrate. Something wasn't right.

The look in Liana's eye seemed to draw Sarah deeper and deeper, and at the same time, she felt herself drifting away. She frowned, and withdrew her hand from Liana's, breaking the connection instantly.

"But what kind of life is that? An eternity of fighting...what if I just want to be happy?" By the time Sarah brought her gaze back to Liana, her expression was significantly softer. The mask was back on, as if it had never slipped in the first place.

This was the crux of Sarah's dilemma. She was more than willing to hate and fight Jareth until the day she died, but was that the life she really wanted? Was she being fair to herself to punish herself by actively living that way? Wouldn't things be easier if she just gave in? It seemed her entire backbone was made of solid pride, and in her current situation, she couldn't be more grateful for it. Liana reached out to pat Sarah's knee. She felt the momentary spark return.

"Perhaps in time, I can advise you on that as well." Sarah peered up and locked eyes with Liana once more. There was no pull this time, just a mutual understanding. She gave her a one sided smirk and sighed. They were quiet a moment, before Liana straightened in her seat and tilted her head as if listening for something. Sarah slowly rose from her slump. "I'm sorry, please forgive me, Sarah, but I have to go." She said and immediately stood from her seat. Sarah warily followed. Was Jareth coming back? How could she sense him like that?

"Is it Jareth?" She asked. Liana looked all around the ceiling, like there was something crawling on it, and then visibly relaxed.

"No, just some matters I must see to. Thank you for your company, Sarah." She said, giving her the warmest of smiles. Sarah tried to reciprocate, but she was feeling too low and confused after their last topic of conversation. Liana saw this and frowned. "Sarah...it's really not so bad. If you go looking for all the evil in the world, you will find it." She said, and wrapped Sarah up in a very surprising hug. Sarah practically melted in her arms. What was it about this woman that was so comforting? She felt so warm and safe. The pulse was back, stronger this time, but she found herself utterly unable to fight it -to want to fight it. It made her feel strong, it gave her hope. Why? "For your sake...in the days to come, I suggest you start looking for the good." She said, and then she was gone.

Sarah stood, her arms still suspended in a hugging gesture. She blinked as if escaping a daze, and stepped away from the spot once holding mysterious Liana. She felt so strange, so full of worry and woe, and yet oddly at peace. She sat back down in her chair and looked over the small dining table. The tiny sandwiches and the cup of tea were still there. The site suddenly churned her belly in knots. She felt...flustered all of the sudden. Very flustered in fact. Her heart was beating a mile a minute. _Was is going on?_ She sighed hard, trying to calm down and focused on the table. Her eyes locked on the rim of the cup and became a ground point for her uneasiness. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath as she began to think over the entire course of their conversation. The rational part of her brain told her not to trust this woman, that there had to be something up her sleeve. But the other side felt nothing but trust and safety from her. She'd gotten a few answers, though not nearly as many as she still needed. She sighed and picked up the cup, playing over Liana last words of wisdom to her._ If you go looking for all the evil in the world, you will find it. For your sake...in the days to come, I suggest you start looking for the good. _She was right. She knew she was right. If she wanted to survive, wanted to do more than survive, to live, then she had to see the good. She had to be happy. Right now, that very notion seemed preposterous, but the longer she sat, the more she thought. _Hey, at least I have someone to talk to...maybe even a friend._ She thought, her dazed eyes fixated on the liquid within the cup. _Look for the good...ok, one step at a time._ She thought, and took a sip.

* * *

  



	12. Fickle and Shag part 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While unbeknown to her, Sarah has succeeded in obtaining the one thing the Goblin King has desired for hundreds of years -power over the Labyrinth. After being hidden for years from his diabolical wrath, Sarah finds herself alone and vulnerable as Jareth's dark desires are finally aloud to rear their ugly heads. As always, the only question is, are things really as they seem?

Truth be told, Sarah half expected Liana's mysterious magic demo teacup to be spelled or drugged or something, and knowingly drank the whole thing. She was almost disappointed when nothing happened. She didn't know why she was feeling so low today, and it wasn't just from her and Liana's conversation -though that had rilled her in ways she still wasn't sure of yet. There was something digging under her skin, bringing her down. She sat the cup back on the table and looked around her new room.

It was quiet, so damn quiet. And that's when she realized the problem, she was alone. It wasn't that she wanted Jareth's company, in fact, she would have preferred anyone else's company over Jareth's. But, she was in a strange place in a strange world. She had no one, no one but her friends, and they were way out of reach as far as she was concerned. All she had here was Jareth and -now Liana, she supposed. Recollections from her dream started drifting back. She remembered how desperate she was for Dream Jareth not to leave her, so she wouldn't have to wake up and be in the very situation she was now in. That couldn't be a good sign, seeking refuge from your troubles in your dreams? Escaping life through sleep? Surely that was a sign of depression. And what was worse, was that she was so desperate as to plead with Dream Jareth over Real Jareth. She wasn't dreaming about her home or her family or friends. She was dreaming about fucking Jareth. That wasn't right. She shouldn't be looking for haven from the one person who gave her hell, even if it was a fictitious doppelganger.

She sighed, already fed up with the course of her day, and she still had to deal with Jareth when he returned. She rose from her seat and made her way to the bathroom so she could properly freshen up without a rush. She took her time, looking herself over in the mirror as if she could will it into a door back to the Aboveground. After brushing her hair for the hundredth time, she finally turned to trudge out of the bathroom.

Sarah opened the door and froze with her hand still on the handle. She stared, unable to blink. Jareth was back. She wasn't anticipating him to be back yet, wasn't prepared to deal with their next encounter and his presence caught her off guard. He was standing straight across from her, on the other side of the bed next to her vanity. He wasn't looking at her, and paid her no mind. In fact, he looked fully engrossed in whatever it was he was examining in his hands. Sarah's eyes followed the diagonal slant of his nose down to the object in his hands. His expression looked solemn, but Sarah's turned to bat-shit-crazy when she caught sight of what he was holding.

Without thought, Sarah practically leaped across the bed, snarling panic and anger directly at him. He was just starting to look up when she snatched her picture of her and her family from his hands.

"Don't you fucking touch this!" She screamed, not realizing that in her fury she had crumpled the photo further. Jareth rose his brow at her slowly, waiting for her to acknowledge the line she'd just crossed. His eyes soon darkened, he opened his mouth to speak, but she cut him off. "No! You do not touch this. Do you understand? You do not look at it, you do not go anywhere near it." She was actually screaming at him. Screaming like she'd never screamed before. Her face was flushed with fury. Her energy actually caught him off guard. His first reaction was to grab her by the hair and throw her across the room for her disrespect, but his shock and observation kept him from making such a movement.

"Sarah-" He managed to say, and was planning on following up with a lot more, but was cut off once again by her rampage.

"No. Stop. This is - This is all I have left. Don't touch it." She said. It was then that Jareth realized she was on the brink of falling to her knees and sobbing. What in the? Why was she so upset? His brief concern, however, was won over by his own kingly rage.

Ignoring the discomfort he felt from seeing her eminent tears, Jareth stepped forward and took hold of her wrist so hard she winced and lost balance in her knees. For a moment, it was only Jareth's grip on her that held her up.

"How many times do I have to tell you, you do not command me, woman. It seems further discipline will be in order to teach you your place. Secondly, what did I tell you about that vulgar little mouth of yours?" His glare was deadly, and his hand squeezed tighter and tighter until she was forced to let go of the picture. Jareth caught it in his free hand and leaned down so she fell to her knees. "If I want something, I will have it, and I will not stand for any verbal or physical attack by anyone, including you. By any other such an action would result in immediate death. I have been unbelievably kind to you thus far. I could make this life for you a living hell, so I suggest you grow up and stop acting like an insolent child. Do you understand what I am telling you?" He was full on growling at her. His grip on her wrist was so tight her hand was turning purple, but she couldn't feel it anymore.

He glared down at her, ready to rip her apart should she give him one more reason to. Never, ever, did anyone dare speak to him in such a way. He was amazed at his own level of self-restraint towards her. He'd gone off on much less.

Sarah sat on her knees in a crumpled heap. The tears hadn't left her eyes yet, but were pooling so thick they distorted her vision. She whimpered as she gazed up at him. She hadn't cried once since she was taken, telling herself to be strong, not to give him the satisfaction of her breakdown, and yet the very sight of Jareth in possession of her family photo had pushed her over the edge of catatonic in a split second. What the hell was going on with her?

"P-please. Please, don't take it away from me, Jareth." She pleaded. Jareth's eyes narrowed, first on the fact that she had completely disregarded his threats and second on the thick tear that finally broke free and was now streaming down her face. She blinked, and even more tears fell free. "Don't take it from me. Please, Jareth. I'm begging you. It's all I have left. I'm sorry. I didn't mean what I said. I-I-" She stopped herself then, imagining how pitiful she must look to him. His expression hadn't changed, but his aura did a complete 180. She didn't sense his anger anymore. She didn't sense anything. She didn't know if that was good or bad.

Jareth stared her hard in the eyes, contemplating all things diabolical -she was sure- and then released her hand, practically throwing it back at her with disgust. Her other hand immediately started circling her wounded wrist. He then looked to the photo - a snapshot of her, Toby and her mother and father. How had this happened? How did the situation plummet so dramatically so quickly? All he was doing was waiting for her to exit the washroom. He'd spotted it earlier that morning and thought to investigate. He wasn't planning on taking it from her, he was just looking, and she attacked him so viciously without cause. Did she really think he would take it from her? That he was just pointlessly cynical? That he wanted her to suffer? Was she learning nothing from him? Maybe it was time they had a little sit down.

As he examined the photo, he saw the square creases from where she had folded it and the crumples from when she had snatched it from his hands. He looked back down to her, with black hooded eyes, making sure she was watching before he took the paper and ripped it in two.

The look on Sarah's face said she could have just witnessed an entire genocide within a split second. Her eyes were wide, and her mouth gaped in utter disbelief. She stared, bore into Jareth with a look more painful than anything he'd ever seen. And it was all over a picture.

Ignoring Sarah's despair, yet not taking his eyes off hers, he then took the two ripped halves and crumpled them in his hands. He let Sarah stew for a moment, before unclasping his hands and flicking the photo down at her with sheer distaste. It landed in her lap. She took hold of it like she didn't believe it was real, and scanned her eyes over it in a panicked frenzy. Her photo -the one Jareth had just torn and crumpled before her very eyes- it was...it was good as new, completely square and in one piece. Not only that, all the creases and blemishes were gone. It was stiff and the color was vibrant, the crease mark over Toby's face completely erased.

When she fully realized what Jareth had done -the undertone of what he had done, she lowered her head and sagged into herself. He was still looming over her, waiting. She felt ashamed, rightfully ashamed for her brashness. Obviously, he wasn't going to take it from her...he was just looking at it. _Stupid! Stupid! Get a grip, Sarah! What the hell is wrong with you! You just snapped at and ordered Jareth!_ _What the hell is wrong with you? Didn't I just get done telling myself to be smart? _After her embarrassment and shame subsided, a low wave of fear started to creep over her. Jareth was still waiting, obviously waiting for her to understand what she had done and what he had done in response. She gripped the picture between her fingers, afraid to look him in the eye, afraid to look at him at all.

"I'm really sorry...I don't know what got into me. Please, forgive me." She asked, submissively. Yes, she'd just told Liana she would never stop fighting, never submit, but this was different. She had been the one out of place this time, not him.

Jareth stood over her, arms crossed over his chest like he was scolding a child. His glare was unmoving, but he could sense the sincerity in her words. There was much disciplining she needed, but she wouldn't be his to discipline until they were married, so for now, he'd just have to wait.

"If you ever speak to me like that again, I'll chain you in the dungeons and let the Pusher have his way with you. And I assure you, he will not show you the mercy I would. Have I made myself clear?" When it came down to it, he would never hand her over to the Pusher. He would never let another harm a single hair on her head. Any harm he wished her to come to, he would inflict himself. Little mercy was better than no mercy, but she wouldn't understand that.

Sarah tried to subdue the tremble coursing through her body at the thought of being tortured. _He wouldn't really do that to me, would he? That-that's-_

"I said, have I made myself clear!" He snapped, making her jump a mile high into the air. She hid her face behind her hair, not wanting the shame of having him see her cry. The anger and dead blackness in his voice...she'd never been more afraid of as she was in that moment.

"Yes." She answered, as quiet as a mouse.

Jareth knelt down, resting his forearms on his knees, trying to get a better look at her. Not surprisingly, she recoiled. He could see heavy tears falling from behind her hair and narrowed his eyes. He would not give in to this. He reached out and plucked the picture from her hands, and placed it back in its niche in the mirror.

"I'll give you one forewarning. Once we are married, when you misbehave, you will receive more than just a stern lecture. Perhaps you can manage to wrangle some manners by then and avoid such discipline." He said, hoping she understood his undertone. It wasn't that he wanted to hurt her, quite the opposite in fact. But, he wasn't about to give her free reign. She was to be a Queen after all, she had an image to present. If she went around acting like this... And, on a more basic note, he simply would not stand to have her lash out and disrespect him like that. Such behavior was simply unacceptable. She seemed shaken enough with what had happened just then, one good lashing would set her straight for sure. But again, he would rather her simply obey than have to be disciplined to obey. She had a few more days to get herself together before the wedding, once that happened, there would be nothing holding him back.

By this point in Jareth's thought process, he found himself pacing towards the door. He'd had something planned for Sarah today, but this little outburst put a damper on his mood. His new plan was to leave her locked in her room for the rest of the night so he could rationally deal with his anger with her.

He paused halfway through the room, the sound of her crying holding him in place. She was trying to hold it in, probably until he left. He paused, irritated with the sound. He wanted to clear his head and continue out of the room. She wouldn't learn her lesson if he went easy on her, especially in the beginning. But after a moment, he sagged his shoulders and sighed roughly, making the new discovery that he hated the sound of her crying. He rolled his head back as if chastising himself before inwardly groaning and turning on his heel to stalk back into the room.

Sarah was still on the floor, trembling from the effort it took her to hold back the tears. She was ashamed, ashamed with herself for her careless outburst, and ashamed she'd given in, to let him see her break down. _He probably feels so superior right now. Fucking asshole._

She flinched when he hunkered down beside her, and went rigid when he wrapped her in his arms and cradled her to his chest. Her shivering was almost violent now, combined with her fear of Jareth. He rested his chin at the top of her head and slowly rocked her. He didn't feel like he thought he would. It made him uncomfortable seeing her this way. He wanted her to understand her wrongdoing, to learn now so that it would never happen further down the road -when the consequences would be much worse. But, he didn't want her to fear him, that was completely counter-productive to his plans.

He sighed, realizing that he may have just taken a huge step backward with her and held her a little tighter. He was irritated with himself, for giving in to her so easily. SHe wouldn't learn if he coddled her after she got in trouble. She was the one who had misbehaved, and yet he was inevitably paying the price. All day, he'd been lost in that damn dream of hers. She wanted him, badly. That much was evident, but what she wanted wasn't him. She wanted a perfect, charming, white knight to sweep her off her feet. That's not who he was at all. So while her fantasy may look like him, it wasn't him. And she was right when she said he would never be him.

As he held her on the floor, Jareth realized that there indeed was a much easier way to go about this, one that Sarah had proposed herself -swoon. That damn word. Yes, he could have swooped in and been everything from her dreams, but it wouldn't have been the same. He needed her to fall in love with _him_ after all, not a fake version of himself. Why should he have to change himself in the slightest anyway? Why should he have to pretend? He could have hundreds of woman crooning at his feet, so why would Sarah be any different? He and his pride, up until now, were perfectly confident that they had the ability to seduce and bewitch Sarah just as they were. Sure, it wasn't the easiest or fastest means to an end, but it was the most worth while. To have her love him, all of him, just as he was. That was what he needed for all of this to work, and while he could pretend to be her prince charming, he would never resort to that. It wasn't who he was. He didn't give in and he didn't compromise. His pride wouldn't allow it. No, she would love him just as he was. His arrogance assured that she would give in to him -one day. Therefore, it would be a pointless waste of time to bother pretending, to trick her into submission. If it was a facade she fell in love with, she wouldn't indeed love all of him, just as he was. And besides, deep down, he hoped to gain more than just control of the Labyrinth. No, acquiring that would be so simple, but he wanted more, more than the Labyrinth. He wanted Sarah too. He wanted her. He wanted her love, so that he could give her his.

Jareth wasn't sure how many minutes had passed, but Sarah had hardly calmed down and was still quivering in his arms. It was then that he realized that for the first time she wasn't fighting against him. She was letting him hold her, regardless that it was because she was too afraid to protest, he appreciated the moment all the same. He'd never held her like this before, and found that he didn't want to let go. He brought a hand up to hold her head and nuzzled his nose into her hair.

"Please, stop crying." He murmured. The sound of her fear and sorrow was affecting him much more directly than he wanted. The feeling of discomfort in the pit of his stomach grew the longer she shook and sobbed. He wanted it to stop.

The sound of his voice only made her cry harder. She wanted to run away from him, and at the same time she wanted the comfort that came with being held, regardless that it was he that held her or not. She was so upset, so panicked, and had no idea why. Yes, he'd terrified her, but she knew how to better control herself. The trembling just wouldn't stop.

"Why are you holding me?" Sarah asked.

"Because you're upset." He answered, as if it were really that simple.

"Please. You don't care if I'm upset or not." She said and tried pushing away from him. He only allowed her a few inches or so.

"Of course I do."

Sarah pulled back just enough to meet him in the eye. Her face was wrought with disbelief.

"No, you don't. Do you have no idea what you just did to me? Look at my arm, it's already bruising." She said. Jareth tilted his head like he was having difficulty understanding.

"I know exactly what I have done to you. And of course I care whether or not you're upset. I don't wish to see you like this." It was like waves of baffle were punching Sarah right in the face. Who the hell was this? How could Jareth just shift emotions like the flick of a switch? Only moments before, she thought he was going to beat her to death, and now he looked like he was full of nothing but concern for her.

"Then let me go. Leave, and you won't have to see me like this."

"I'm not leaving until you've calmed down."

"Why, Jareth? After what you just did to me, what you just threatened to do, don't pretend that you actually care about me. If you did you wouldn't hurt me." She said and tried pushing away again. Jareth shifted to take hold of her jaw with his hand.

"Sarah, I don't want to hurt you." He said, staring her straight in the eye. It was quiet a moment. As his eyes bore into hers, he could see fresh tears starting to pool.

"How can you say that to me?" She muttered through clenched teeth. Animosity was slowing filling her gaze. Jareth's expression was stern. She needed to understand before more incidents like this occurred.

"Sarah, I am not the monster you think I am. It is not my desire to cause you pointless pain." He said, keeping his eyes stone on hers.

"You told me you would chain me in the dungeons, that you would hurt me once we're married-"

"No. I gave you a warning, and therefore a means of avoiding such an outcome. I'm not going to hurt you, not if you give me no reason to. And if I do, the decision will have been yours. Not mine." He said. Sarah scowled.

"Why the hell would I want you to hurt me?" She asked.

"Sarah, I've given you the parameters for which you will be disciplined. Defy me, or misbehave, and you will be reprimanded. Obey, and behave, and you will be rewarded. Knowing this, any punishment I give you will be given with your previous knowledge and consent. In other words, if you choose to upset me, it is at your own risk, as you know the consequences. That is what I meant by warning you." He explained.

"Is it really just that black and white to you? Do you have no compassion at all?" She asked, unwilling to believe he could really be that bullheaded.

"Sarah, I just said it is not my wish to hurt you. But, I will not stand for this kind of behavior. All I ask is your obedience and respect. Fail to do so and you will be punished. It is my desire that you learn this now and save both of us a lot of wasted time and misery in the future." His voice was level, completely devoid of the compassion Sarah had just questioned.

"If you felt any kind of misery you wouldn't hurt me in the first place. If you cared about me at all you wouldn't have practically broken my hand. If you cared about how I felt you would let go of me and leave me be." She said, pushing a little harder against him.

"I'm not leaving you while you're upset." He reaffirmed. Sarah stared hard into his eyes. He was being completely sincere. It was insane.

"What is this?" She asked, now aggravated. "How can you possibly be acting like this? You were so angry with me just now, and now you're what, perfectly fine? Trying to comfort me and telling me you care? What the hell is up with you?" _Be one or the other, not both._ Her mind was screaming at him. If he was going to be despicable then he should be despicable, not try to make it all better afterwards. She knew the signs of an abusive relationship, full of push and pull, bumps and bruises and a whole lot of mind fuck. That was not a cycle she wanted to start. He should either be kind, or not, not bounce between the two. But regardless of all that, she highly doubted her relationship with Jareth would be anything but abusive.

"I hold no grudges with you, Sarah. You behaved poorly just now, and you were punished. It is finished. I do not hold you in any contempt past that. Should you misbehave again, you will be punished for that as well. Once it is done, we can move on. There is no need to dwell on it." He tried to explain.

"You expect me to just get over it? Move on like it never happened? No, Jareth. I will not just move on. You hurt me, scared the living shit out of me. And now you expect me to believe everything is alright?" _Is this really how it's going to be? And it will be worse once we're married? How can he hurt me and then think nothing of it? How can he do what he just did to me and then try to comfort me afterwards? Who the hell does he think he is?_

"Everything_ is_ alright." He answered, hoping that she would just accept this and make life a little easier.

"No, Jareth. Everything is not alright. Nothing is alright. This isn't right. This is wrong. How can you not see that?" She gave him one final push, and was surprised when he actually let go. She stumbled to her feet and backed away, still running circles around her wrist. Jareth soon followed.

"Sarah, if you would look past the pain you would see that you will only be in it when you willingly defy me. Simply abstain from this behavior and you will experience none of it. It's as simple as that." He said and took a step towards her. She backed away, and paused once the bed hit the back of her knees. She couldn't help but notice just how calm and collected he was being.

"Forgive me for not understanding your logic, but where I come from any kind of abuse is bad. It doesn't matter the reasoning behind it. Please, please just leave me be." She pleaded. On a basic note, what he was saying made sense to her, in a weird, medieval, fucked-up way, but she in no way agreed with it. If this was really how it was going to be between them, she needed some time to wrap her head around it -like the next hundred thousand years. And even then, she would still be outraged.

Sarah found herself dazed for a moment as she thought over her imminent future. Liana's words kept floating back to her, telling her to fight, to never get up. But how could she? How could she possibly stand a chance when he could rip her down so easily? It was like he was leaving her no other choice but to give up. And then something else chimed through._You have something he wants, Sarah. That gives you the advantage. Use it to your benefit. _She played those words over and over in her mind. _He wants me... _She told herself, trying to dissect the inner possibility of those words. _He's marrying me, not making me a slave...he says he cares... _On and on these thoughts went, trying to pick apart every encounter she and Jareth had had. _He wants me...use it to my advantage..._

With her head still lowered, she peered up through her lashes. Jareth was staring at her, and she realized her mental turmoil had only processed within a few seconds. She rose her chin to look him square in the eye.

"I'll say it one more time, I'm not leaving." Jareth said. She narrowed her eyes a bit.

"So what would happen if I ordered you to leave? If I started cursing and told you to get the fuck out? Would you punish me? Hurt me again?" She asked, sharply. Jareth tensed just a bit, and he narrowed his eyes in turn.

"You would be punished. But not for what you say, but for purposefully goading me. I don't recommend putting yourself in harms way, Sarah. It won't be good for either of us." He said, in warning. Sarah pursed her lips.

"And once it's done, you'll carry on like it never happened?" She was full on glaring now.

"Unless you would like me to hold onto every little mistake, misdemeanor and indiscretion you make. A grudge, I can assure you, is not something you want from me." He replied. His demeanor was relatively light, but his gaze was still dark.

"I don't want anything from you." She snapped, the anger and hurt in her eyes bore into him hard.

Something changed then. Sarah was readying herself for another fight, but something about Jareth changed then. The darkness subsided, and the tension in his shoulders left him. He looked...tired. Tired of her? Tired of fighting? Regardless, she was wary when he took another step to close the gap between them. He stood before her, and rose both his hands to hold either side of her head. He then lowered his own and pressed his mouth to the crown of her head in a kind of half-kiss, and sighed.

"I hope that one day...you won't mean that." He said, sounding utterly exhausted. Sarah flinched and shook away from him, already glaring by the time their eyes met.

"Don't. Please, just don't." She said, and huffed at the blank look in Jareth's eyes. "Why do you do this? Why do you act so horrible to me and then act so tender and dare I say -nice? I have no idea how to handle you. I don't know how to act or react. Are you cruel? Or are you not? Please, just pick one, I don't care which, because I can't handle this." She said and waved her hands in the air before scooting out from him and away from the bed. She didn't know where she was going, but found herself pacing towards the door.

Jareth paused, and drew his brow on her receding form. What? He turned to follow after her.

"Sarah, stop." He commanded, to his surprise, she listened. Though the way she fisted her hands at her sides did not go unnoticed.

"Ok, I stopped. Is this what you want? Me to follow your every command like a slave? Or do you just want the satisfaction of having me obey you? So you can reward me for good behavior, like a pet?" She snarled. Jareth was about to approach her, but she beat him to it by storming her way back to him. "Is that what I am to you, Jareth? A pet? Something for your own amusement and satisfaction?" She asked, jabbing a finger at him. Jareth eyed her warily, and pushed her finger away.

"No." He said, and nothing more. Sarah's glare intensified. He was about to continue, when something caught his eye over her shoulder. The dining table, there was food and drink on it. How did that get there? Then something clicked. "Sarah, did you have any visitors this afternoon?" He asked, changing the subject completely.

Sarah blinked, and blinked again. _What the hell? _She was right on the edge from screaming at him again, consequences be damned. It took her a minute to recompose. She shook her head and looked over her shoulder, putting her anger on pause.

"Uhh..yea. Liana wanted to have lunch with me." She said, with a furrowing brow -secretly hoping giving him knowledge of Liana would rile him up a bit. She watched him intently for a moment, confused as to why Jareth would switch their conversation so drastically. She looked up to see him staring on, contemplatively. After a moment, he looked down and tilted his head as if examining her. The darkness in his eyes dissipated completely.

Jareth pieced two and two together rather quickly. He was wondering what had set her off, why she was acting so radical. It only made sense that Liana had seen her. The Labyrinth's words to him regarding their connection started to come back, leading him to conclude that Sarah's unstable burst of emotion and energy was undoubtedly the result of her close proximity to the source of her power. As he thought, he made another realization. If Sarah fed more directly from the Labyrinth the closer they were, then she would be having outbursts like this more and more often. What's more, is that a stronger connection meant a stronger possibility that she could awaken her powers herself. That was not good. It was then that he wondered if that was the very reason Liana had conceded to let Jareth steal her from the Aboveground so easily.

His anger left him immediately, now gravely concerned with the intentions of Liana. Sarah's outburst wasn't her fault, it was Liana's manipulation. He couldn't stop the Labyrinth from seeing Sarah, he had no bound on her, and it was evident that the spirit was determined to see Sarah -often. He needed to sort things out. He needed to figure out the Labyrinth's true intentions. More importantly, he needed to keep Sarah away from her.

"I see..." Jareth murmured, his eyes caught on the table behind her. Sarah shifted uncomfortably, not sure what exactly had changed his mood.

Ignoring her confusion, and his own anger long forgotten, he stepped around her towards the table. She turned in her spot to watch him. He stopped before the table, and his eyes scanned over it like it was some kind of trap. After a moment, he brought his hand to wave over the surface, clearing all of its contents along the way. She felt an urge to start snapping her fingers at him. Weren't they just in the middle of a fight a second ago?

She watched as he then moved away from the table to stand by the fire. She shook her head, confounded. Yet another mood swing, and he still hadn't responded to her question. She folded her arms over her chest.

"What are you doing?" She asked, noticing the fire grow as he stared at it. He moved away to sit in a nearby couch before responding.

"I'd like you to join me for a moment." He said, not bothering to look at her. Sarah's paused anger was starting to be overpowered by wary confusion. She was too cautious to snap at him, and instead listened to sit at the opposite end of the couch. _See, I can listen. I can pick my battles...kind of._ She told herself. She stared at him for a moment. He was still staring at the fire. His arm rested against the arm of the couch, and his hand supported his chin as his index finger tapped against his lips. "Sarah-" He started. The tone of his voice implied that what ever he was about to say was very serious. She still didn't understand, she'd rather go back to fighting. "What did you and Liana discuss during your lunch?" He asked, finally turning his head to look at her. Sarah's back stiffened. Why was he so serious all of the sudden? Something must really be up if he forgot their fight so easily.

"Magic, mostly." She answered, too afraid to dare lying to him.

"Care to explain?" He probed. The intensity in his eyes alarmed her. Was there a reason for this? Maybe she was right in not trusting Liana?

"She told me you two have different kinds of magic, and explained how it worked."

"Why would she tell you that?" He asked. Sarah squirmed.

"I asked her who she was, since she's obviously not your wife n' all." She said, trying to come of as nonchalant.

"And what did she say?"

"That she's your...business parter? She helps you take care of things..." She trailed off. Jareth eyed her down for another moment or two, thinking.

"You shouldn't trust her, Sarah." He said. Now that was unexpected. She thought that maybe he would be angry for her speaking with her again. But on a lesser note, Jareth, the King of deception, was telling her not to trust someone.

"Because I can trust you?" She asked, sarcastically. Jareth shifted to face her fully and moved a little closer. HIs face was deadly serious.

"You may not trust me, Sarah, but you know my intentions; and while you may not feel safe with me, you know -deep down- that I will protect you from all others. What do you know of Liana?" He asked. Sarah was taken back a bit. Those were her thoughts exactly.

"Why shouldn't I trust her?" She asked, wondering why he hadn't simply banned her from seeing the woman if he didn't think she was safe. Maybe it was the power thing? Perhaps he couldn't stop her...now that thought was interesting.

"Put your anger for me aside. Not trusting me is no reason for you to trust her, just keep that in mind." He warned, and turned back to face the fire.

Sarah sat like a statue. Jareth was giving her advice? On Liana? On trust? And he was being so calm about it all of the sudden? What changed? Where was the anger? The threats? The false compassion?

"Jareth?" She asked. For some reason she really wanted to continue their argument, to resolve it in some way. They way things were now, it felt like there was one monster of an elephant in the room, brooding directly at her. "You didn't answer my question." She added.

"I don't have an answer." He snapped, leaving her wondering which question they were both referring to.

* * *

The rest of the night progressed very awkwardly for Sarah. Jareth didn't leave, he wouldn't. She didn't know what to do with herself. She still had so many issues that she wanted to scream at Jareth about, but she was too weirded out by his new demeanor to say a single word. Secretly, she thanked the awkwardness. After Jareth's warning, she knew where her temper would get her, and was glad because this awkward silence had successfully snuffed it out for the night. He was obviously done speaking with her on the matter, so she would have to reside for another day.

As the hours passed, Sarah found herself growing more and more antsy. She didn't dare move from her spot on the couch, and couldn't help but stare at Jareth -who for the past few hours or so, had sat in the same position, staring at the fire, and not saying a single word. What was he still doing here? How long would he stay and not speak to her? What if she wanted to go to bed? Or had to go to the bathroom? Finally, when the sun had set and her tiny frantic mind could take no more, she spoke up.

"Jareth?" She asked. His brow rose as if he'd completely forgotten she were there.

"Yes?" He asked. She looked down and fidgeted her hands in her lap.

"What are you still doing here?" He turned his head fractionally to look at her.

"Absolutely nothing." He answered. Sarah frowned and looked away, not sure if he was trying to fuck with her or was just being literal. He tilted his head and scooted across the couch to her. She stiffened at his proximity, something she completely failed to hide. She tensed her shoulders and stared hard into her hands. She could feel his gaze on her and winced from behind her hair. He paused a moment, before reaching out and taking her hand. She almost flailed away on reflex, but managed to suppress it.

He held her arm with both hands and examined the injury he'd inflicted earlier. Her wrist was swollen and red. She was right when she'd said it had already started bruising. As he examined it, he could tell just how tender it was and wondered if perhaps he'd fractured it. He ran a thumb over it, healing it. He then set her hand back on her lap, though he didn't let it go.

"I apologize for hurting you." He said. Sarah wanted to whip her head up and tell him to go fuck himself, but remained still. Why was he apologizing? After he was so adamant in explaining proper punishment and discipline?

While Sarah had spent the past hours sitting uncomfortably, Jareth had been thinking. He was sure it was Liana's influence that set her off, which meant it wasn't really her fault that she lashed out at him. He'd just finished giving her such a strict run down of what he expected from her, saying that should she willingly and knowingly defy him she would be reprimanded. It wasn't her direct will that drove her, so in a way she wasn't responsible for her actions -in part. That meant that him hurting her was out of line. She didn't know any of this, but he did, and in knowing this felt a little resentment towards his actions after all. He wasn't one who usually apologized for his actions, but in doing so he hoped to gain some small favor. He'd let it go -this one time.

Sarah's eyes were glued to Jareth's hand holding her own. The pain in her wrist was gone. She didn't know what to say, thank him for removing the injury that he inflicted in the first place? At least he was apologizing...

"I didn't mean to lash out like that...I just...I don't know." She tried pulling her hand away, but he kept it in place.

"I know." He said. If only she knew just how much he knew. He shifted again, and pulled her up into his arms. She didn't fight him, knowing she very well couldn't. She was just glad he wasn't trying to assault her in other ways. He held her for a moment, staring out at the fire. He then peered down and brushed a lock of hair concealing her face and pretended he didn't see her flinch at his touch. "You have no idea..." He started. "No idea how grand this life could be, all the things I could give you, how happy you could be, if you would only give it a chance." Sarah stared blankly into the couch. He was right, but she would never give him that chance. If he wanted her to be happy with him, he shouldn't have kidnapped her. Plain and simple.

"It's been three days Jareth. It'll be a very long time before I give you that chance -if ever." She said. Jareth frowned. He'd forgotten it had been such a short period of time. At the rate she was wearing him down, it felt like months had passed. He hoped things wouldn't stay like this for long.

"I have all of eternity. One day you'll realize how pointless it is to fight me, and how worth while it is to give in, to swallow your pride and let me give you the world."

"And what is it you want in return?" She asked, unwilling to believe Jareth actually had any intention of giving her the world. There was a pause before he responded.

"You." He said, cryptically it seemed. Sarah furrowed her brow for a moment. _He wants you Sarah, use it to your advantage..._

"You can't have me."

"I will."

"You won't."

"Is that a challenge?" There was a small spark in his voice.

"No. It's the truth." She answered. Jareth gave a small grin. That was definitely a challenge.

"You can't hate me forever." He said.

"I can, as long as you keep giving me reasons to. And at the rate you're going, I don't see that changing any time soon." Jareth's grin fell. He looked away from the fire and paused, releasing his hold on her. She glanced up, curiously, as he then stood and walked away from her. Her eyes followed him all the way to the door. He stopped after turning the latch and pushing it open to look back over his shoulder, though he didn't look at her.

"You're not the only one who's alone, Sarah." He said, and headed out into the darkness of the hallway.


	13. The Eye Of The Storm part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While unbeknown to her, Sarah has succeeded in obtaining the one thing the Goblin King has desired for hundreds of years -power over the Labyrinth. After being hidden for years from his diabolical wrath, Sarah finds herself alone and vulnerable as Jareth's dark desires are finally aloud to rear their ugly heads. As always, the only question is, are things really as they seem?

Chapter 8, The Eye Of The Storm

* * *

The hall was dark, engulfed in total blackness, and echoed the slow pace of Jareth's footsteps. He thought nothing of it. He'd walked through this hall enough times to navigate it blindly. He stared absently downwards, lost in the hallow. The deeper he ventured down the hall, the lower his shoulders sagged. He felt so tired -all the time it seemed. Well, more so recently. Sarah was proving to be more difficult in ways he hadn't anticipated, and in truth, it had him rethinking his once decided course of action. Perhaps he was too rash in acquiring her... Maybe he should have thought it through more. He was so excited, perhaps even with all his planning he failed to approach every angle of the situation. He knew she was strong willed, and knew she was unstable from the amount of energy she was draining from the Labyrinth, but that in itself posed more than enough issues to keep him busy for the next decade or so, and he really didn't want to dedicate that amount of time into acquiring something that was rightfully his. He'd waited long enough as it was. And then there were more -foreign- issues, like her tempered _feelings_ and estranged sense of morality. He'd never thought to accommodate her perceptions...he'd just assumed she would understand the way he understood, or he would make her understand. Perhaps he was too confident right out of the gate. Maybe...maybe more time is what he needed; instead of trying to force and cram everything into her as soon as possible, perhaps he should draw it out...help her feel -_accommodated._ His brow slowly drew as he pondered this thought. He'd been so set on the declaration that he would bend for no one, that she would bend until she broke because he was the King and she was not. But, with the way things were going, after realizing the way she was affecting him, maybe it would be best to bend, if only a little. Give a little, take a lot. He knew she was starting to level out in her transition, whether it be from her magical acclimation or not, it was happening. He could either wait, stand idly along with his pride until her fire snuffed out on its own, or he could bite his own tongue and snuff it out himself and skip an eternity of headache.

He sighed as he approached the door leading to his chambers. There was so much planning and thinking, and then plotting and rethinking. The nagging thought forever jabbing at his brain reminding him that there was an easy way out of all of this grew louder and louder. The strain of pushing it away was proving to be quite cumbersome, especially at times when he felt like this. He shook his head to clear the temptation. He would never take the easy way out. He couldn't bare it, even with all his greed, he knew he wouldn't be able to go on if he gave in. He would fight for the power that was rightfully his AND he would fight for Sarah. He would have them both. There was no easy way around it. Not if he wanted them both, that is. His sigh came out a growl. When did things get so complicated?

The latch clicked and the door eased open, but it was a sound he didn't hear. He was so drifted in his own thoughts that he didn't notice the bleak darkness filling his room. He walked passed the fire pit, unaware that it didn't light as it usually did. He paused once making his way half way through the room however, finally sensing something amiss. There was a force waiting for him, thick and tangible and he'd walked right into it. His stance grew firm then, sensing a presence that radiated a foul intent. His hands fisted at his sides as he looked around the room, just now realizing how eerily dark it was. The fire was out, and there was no moon filling the night sky. He narrowed his eyes on the dark spot where he knew the hearth was, urging it to ignite, but with no response.

He moved quickly then, taking a step towards the hearth when a raging burst of fire suddenly combust from within it, illuminating the entire room and heating the air to an almost uncomfortable level. He stopped and drew a hand up to protect his face from the blaze, but then snarled and pressed on.

With firm determination, Jareth stalked towards the raging fire, which grew and grew with each step. He stopped dead about five feet away from the flames, the heat was too intense to approach any further. The twinge of the fire reflected in his eyes as anger spurred his own rage.

"What do you want!" He roared at the fire, barring fang and claw. He did his best to hold back the searing heat with his own magic, but it was practically useless against it.

The fire rolled into a sphere then, seemingly outraged by Jareth's demand. It churned and burgeoned, until it exploded into an array of violent rays and heat that scorched everything within the immediate vicinity. The air seemed to quiver and shake around him, but Jareth held his ground, trying to create some kind of defense against the insane heat now bubbling through the room. Within the next second, the flame started to refine itself. Wisps of light curled and rounded into the familiar shape of giant wings, flapping boiling air into the room and directly at him. Jareth watched the spectacle for no more than a moment before lashing out once again.

"What do you want! Enough of this. As your King, I order you to show yourself!" He roared again and winced as the light became too bright for him to handle. In the next moment, the light was gone, dwindling into no more than a soft hum. He opened his eyes and lowered his hand, the outrage in his gaze had never been so intense. "How dare you strike against me!" He screamed, thrashing his arm out to the side.

Liana stood tall both against and one with the fire. Her chest heaved as if she were fighting back the very forces of nature from lashing out at him.

"How dare I? How dare you!" She called out. The intensity in her gaze rivaled that of Jareth's. She lowered her head to glare at him.

"What grounds do you have to attack me? Any action against me is explicitly forbidden. Have you forgotten who I am?" Jareth continued. All the muscles in Liana's face visibly tensed. She was nothing more than raw energy at the moment.

"Explicitly forbidden? And what are you going to do to punish me exactly? I think it is you who have forgotten who I am, _My Liege_." She said, annunciating his title with mock-distaste. There was a heady silence then as Jareth forced himself to rein in his temper. His gaze narrowed, drawing all his rage into the dead of his eyes.

"We have an arrangement." He said, his voice as sharp as a sickle.

"And I think it is time I reaffirm the parameters of what exactly our arrangement is." Liana replied, and took a step towards him. The heat in her step seared scorch marks into the wooden floor boards. "You do not command me, Jareth. I am not your subject. You do not have any hold or power over me. I work in alliance with you _only_ for the sake of the land. My tie, my bond, and my loyalty is to my master -Sarah. And it will be regardless if she remains unaware of her power or not." She spoke harsh and clipped. Her voice was deeper than usual, and echoed into the air around them. She was reverting, loosing control of her _Fae_ form. Jareth drew into himself in an effort to hold himself back from her. He did not need to deal with this right now.

"What are you doing here, Liana." He said, like a stone. He stood as rigid as a statue, but the tension in his hands gave tell as to just how much fury he was holding in.

"What have you done to Sarah." She demanded. Jareth took in a shallow breath.

"You're going to have to be more specific." He said. Liana would have openly gritted her teeth if she didn't think sparks would ignite from the friction.

"You hurt her, badly. I could sense her pain, her fear, her panic, and most directly, her sorrow. What have you done to her." She snapped. Jareth watched the light start to pour from subtle cracks spidering all over her body. Whatever had set her off, he needed to resolve -fast. He'd never seen her this outraged, only at enemies or attackers on the Labyrinth. Screaming back at her wasn't going to work. He needed her to reclaim her rational.

"I merely informed her on the guidelines in which she is to behave." He said.

"What did you to do her." She spoke slower this time. The tips of her hair were starting to twirl upwards as they caught fire.

"She behaved poorly, and so she was disciplined. I then informed her on how to avoid such an outcome in the future. It is over and we have moved on." He explained. He really didn't understand what Liana was so angry about. She knew the way of the world. What was more so, was that she herself accepted, agreed, and practiced it to its fullest extent.

"I may not be able to stop you from touching her, but I assure you, I will not allow her to come to harm, from any hand." She declared. Jareth rose an eyebrow at her.

"And how is that exactly? Her hold is with me, you can't touch her, we've discussed this. And you can not stop me, for more reasons than one." Liana bit her tongue, holding something back. It was then that Jareth chose to break their stand off. Without taking his eyes off of hers, he slowly roamed away from the fire. "You're here because of the pain I inflicted on Sarah? You're angry with me, when it was by your hand that this even transpired." He snapped, accusingly. Liana's brow twitched.

"I know you're setting me up for an elaboration. So, go on, elaborate." She said. Jareth stopped and glared at her hard, with the same kind of anger she was giving to him. She was unaware, but he blamed her for what happened between him and Sarah.

"You did something to her." He snapped. Liana froze. "You did something, something to change her. You spoke of energy and acclimation. You're pushing your force into her through these encounters. Why?" He demanded, effectively changing the subject. Liana recomposed herself within a split second, causing her fire to lose some of its intensity -something Jareth did not fail to notice.

"I told you, the closer she is to me, the stronger she will grow." Jareth shook his head.

"No. I will not accept that as an answer. You're working her specifically, pushing your influence on her purposefully. Why? What is it you're planning exactly?" He said, and started pacing the room. Liana stiffened further, if it were at all possible. "You did this on purpose. You knew what would happen. Sarah's pain is your fault. Why?" He was actually pointing his finger at her, he was so outraged. With all her talk of protecting Sarah, it was her that drove her to come to harm. He didn't understand. He'd thought of this before, of the fact that the Labyrinth was on its own team. If that was truly the case, keeper of its power or not, Sarah was no more than a pawn. They were both using Sarah, which meant he needed to know what other agendas she served before he could proceed with his own. He wasn't lying when he'd told Sarah he would protect her from all others. And if she ever did come to harm, it would undoubtedly be from him. It would be his burden to bear.

There was a pause before Liana spoke.

"She was upset." She answered, causing Jareth to pause in both his step and conspiring. "The way she felt, it wasn't sadness, it wasn't anything. She was completely empty, exhausted of everything. Another result of her encounters with you. I merely wanted to cheer her up. Give her a boost so she might feel better and have enough will power to face you again." She explained, only some of the anger leaving her voice. Meanwhile, Jareth continued to glare. He didn't believe her answer for a second. The Labyrinth would never be that daft. She was playing up her_ Fae_ form a little too well. Jareth could see right through it.

"Your_ boost_ caused her to lash out at me, in numerous ways -completely neurotic. Her behavior was unacceptable. She was frantic, enraged and unstable. If your intention was to bring her some kind of peace or solace I do believe you failed." He snapped, condescendingly. Liana bit the inside of her cheek. She hadn't thought Sarah would react to her influence so radically. She knew Jareth's manner for discipline, and understood it as a norm of the Underground. She knew what she was sending Sarah into. She should have been more careful. She wanted Sarah strong; she wanted Sarah to fight. Perhaps she forced too much too soon. Perhaps this _was_ her fault.

"I may have been the cause, but it was by your decision and hand that harm came to her. I may have set her up but it was you that struck her down." There was a pause then. Her eyes flickered over the small sag that appeared in Jareth's shoulders just then.

"Do you honestly think I enjoyed it? It was not my desire to hurt her, to see her that way. But she must learn and she must learn now. I could have done far worse." He muttered. It actually struck Liana at how drained he sounded just then. He sounded...regretful. "You do realize what is going on, don't you? You understand the position Sarah is about to ascend? This is not merely between us three. She will not be confined to the castle walls forever. She must learn the way of this world now before she is exposed to its extremes. You say you won't allow her harm from any hand, well I say that as well. If she doesn't learn how to behave she will be targeted by the realm. Individuals that you and I both know can hold a great influence over her fate should they feel the desire to victimize her. I do not wish that manner of attention and persecution on her. Demonize me all you want, but you know how merciful I have been to her. You know how lenient I have been."

He paused to take a breath, and narrowed his eyes a bit.

"And you, a being with no capacity for true human emotion of any kind, no love or compassion, loyalty or even hatred for that matter; your level of devotion and caring is only as strong as the person who holds you. Be it by order, you would slaughter a band of children without a moment's hesitation. You, someone so evolved beyond the constraint of humanity or its other like-forms. You do not _feel_. You do not comprehend. Your sense of emotion is merely mimicked observation. You say you care so much, but you don't. You simply can not. Do you take me for a fool? And here you are baring arms in a declaration to protect Sarah from my frigid claws. Who are you to judge my actions? Believe it or not I _am_ trying to help her." What ever sense of reservation Jareth had been clinging to up until that point had been blown away by the sheer disbelief he held towards Liana. She wasn't human, she wasn't even Fae. She wasn't a physical being of any sorts. She had no soul, no conscience. For her to dare condescend him on matters of compassion and emotion when it was physically impossible for her to feel anything at all was simply...unbelievable. The emotion she felt was a facade, a show. She didn't really feel compassion towards Sarah, she was merely reflecting the nature of Sarah's personality, of Sarah's soul. Maybe that's what this was all about then. Maybe Liana's rage was merely a reflection of Sarah.

Liana stood like a plank. Never, ever, in all her centuries of working alongside Jareth had she heard him shout and spew so much, with such -fervor. He was truly outraged, disgusted it seemed. Her eyes scanned him intently. He was speaking as if she were the threat, not him. While it was true she had no capacity for emotion, she was no threat to Sarah, she could never be. However, the Goblin King was smart and conniving. It wouldn't be long before he figured out just what it was she was really up to. As for Jareth, Liana already knew his true intentions -which fit right into hers. There were sure to be many bumps in the road, but as long as the end resulted the way she planned, she was willing to take some of the heat along the way.

Her eyes remained glued to Jareth as he began taking a step towards her. Apparently, he wasn't finished yet.

"This -worry- you feel? It only exists due to the chain Sarah holds around your neck. Should she let go, you wouldn't care for her wellbeing in the slightest."

"Your point?" Liana interjected, feeling bombarded with the ferocity of Jareth's speech.

"My point -Liana- is that _that_ is the difference between you and me. While you and Sarah may say otherwise, I do have a soul. I do have compassion and I do have a conscience. While your loyalty resides in whoever happens to hold your leash, I will always care for Sarah. I will always protect her. And that is a vow you could never make." Liana could only stand abashed as Jareth ranted and raved. but the glare in her eyes waned as she took in his words. There was true emotion in Jareth just now, and although he hid it well, she was one who could see through any mask. Jareth didn't wait for her to respond, and instead turned and stalked away from her. "You've never reacted this way to anything. I know you're up to something. And I want to know what." He said as he approached the loft holding his bed. He ascended the couple of steps before turning back and looking her straight in the eye. "I don't want you seeing Sarah, it's hard enough trying to wrangle her in without your helpful influence, but we both know I can not stop you. And I doubt you would reveal your scheme so easily, so I will ask you simply, for the sake of the land, are you with me, or against me?" He asked. Liana stood rather awkwardly for a moment, still trying to wrap her head around the strange stream of emotion she was getting from Jareth and just how in the world he managed to turn this on her. Anger, protection...fear? sadness? ...and something else.

"I want what is best for the kingdom, Jareth. My one true allegiance will always be to the kingdom," She answered. Jareth didn't move, after all, she hadn't answered his question.

"And what exactly is best for the kingdom?" He asked.

"As King, one would hope you would already know the answer to that question." She countered, and turned as if to leave. The site of her retreating back made him irritated.

"What ever it is you're up to, it will not interfere with my plans for Sarah." He called out. Liana paused, and glanced back over her shoulder. "You say I do not command you, that I have no power over you, well that goes both ways. You do not command me and you have no power over me. I will do what I want and how I want where Sarah is concerned. I owe you no explanation for my actions, I am ordered by no one, not even you. So I don't recommend you coming into my chambers and having another outburst like this again. It's enough to deal with her, and she's only a mortal." He said and waited for her response. Liana turned slightly and crinkled her nose.

"She influences me just as I influence her. You said it yourself, my King, my devotion and caring is only as strong as the one who holds me. As you have yet to discover, Sarah has more caring and devotion in her than you could ever hope to imagine. I gain my emotion from her, just as she gains her energy from me. I recommend you keep that in mind for future encounters," She replied, and turned back to continue towards the door. She stopped once reaching the threshold, sensing he was still watching her. "Oh, and one more thing, influence goes a long way. So as long as I can push it, I will have no reason to interfere. And, on a more basic note, if all you're planning is to marry her, why would I have reason to interfere at all? Best keep your cards close at hand, Goblin King, or I just might see what it is _you're_ really up to." She said, in warning, and then she was gone.

* * *

Sarah sighed into her pillow, slowly waking from the feel of the morning sun warming her cheeks. She smiled and rolled onto her back. She opened her eyes slowly, savoring the inky blackness behind her lids, blackness that she had enjoyed thoroughly throughout the entire night. Her unconscious smile grew as her lashes fluttered open. Ah, a dreamless sleep. Finally, a night without Jareth, a night without anything. No midnight invasions of her psyche, no nothing. As she stared up at the ceiling, she couldn't believe a night of emptiness could have ever made her feel as rejuvenated as she felt this morning.

Yesterday had been so...weird. She had felt so off, wired and then exhausted, confused and rattled. She shook her head and looked to the side, just now realizing she was absent one Goblin King. She looked down the bed, half expecting to see him where he was the previous morning, and blinked at the empty space when she saw nothing. She laid her head back against her pillow almost warily, contemplating the whereabouts of Jareth and her much needed contentment that came with his absence.

She lay there unmoving for a few minutes, just soaking up the sun and almost happy feeling. Where did this come from? Why did she feel so much better this morning? It couldn't simply be because Jareth wasn't harassing her, could it? After another few minutes of thinking, she rolled onto her side and knelt up on her elbow. _Where is Jareth?_ She wondered. He'd been there when she awoke every day since she'd arrived, and wondered if maybe something was wrong.

Pulling back the sheets, she swung her legs free and pressed the pads of her toes to the floor. It was quiet, wonderfully so. She left the bed and made her way over towards the window. The air was warmer there. She rested her hands against the sill, and marveled at how warm the stone was against her skin. She leaned out a little, taking in the landscape. The view was always so beautiful, even though she knew the manner of decay the kingdom was in close up, all the colors and textures just seemed to flow like a painting from so high up. Her eyes scanned as far as they could until the land met the horizon. She wondered just how vast the Goblin Kingdom was, and what lay beyond its borders. What and where the other 7 kingdoms were, and what -if anything- lay beyond those as well. _I wonder where Erastor is..._

She heard something as she pondered that thought, effectively distracting her. She scanned over the contours of the Labyrinth more intently, searching for the source of the sound. It sounded like...crashing...yelling...craziness in general. That's when her eyes caught on the smoke. Smoke? No, not smoke -dust. Huge clouds of dust were coming from somewhere in the Labyrinth. She focused her eyes harder, but she was too far up to make out anything specific, only that it was close to the city wall. Scratching her head, she gave a mental shrug and moved away from the window. She stretched her arms high above her head, savoring the warm pop that drizzled down her spine as they cracked. She'd been so tense since coming here -but that was self-explanatory.

After a moment, Sarah found herself standing rather awkwardly -alone- in her room, not quite knowing what to do with herself. Jareth had always given her a strict outline for the day. What was she supposed to do? Could she just leave her room and do whatever she wanted? Where was Jareth? If she did stay in her room, how would she eat?

After a moment, she hesitantly decided it would be best to seek him out -in case something was wrong. She made her way over towards her set of dressers and began rummaging through, and found herself frowning at the fact that there were now more pants outfits than dresses. She tried to think nothing of it, mindlessly gathering her things and making her way towards the bathroom.

She took her time in the bath, savoring the process of becoming clean. She'd always felt too pressured by Jareth's presence to actually enjoy taking a bath. But now, soaking in the huge in lain tub, it felt so relaxing. She also took the time to scan around the environment more thoroughly than she had previous times. There was soap, shampoo and towels, but what she also discovered, and wasn't sure if she was excited or creeped out about, were the razors and other Aboveground girly technology located throughout the room. _Where did these even come from? Did Jareth get these for me? That's...kind of weird to think about...I wonder if he'll fetch me tampons when I get my period._ She joked to herself. It wasn't very long before her intended joke actually sunk in.

_Wait...period. Shit. _Thoughts of her impending cycle brought thoughts of not having her impending cycle as well as a very small flare of panic. _Fuck. Marriage means kids. Fuck, fuck, fuck, I have to have his kids? Of course I have to have his kids! He expects me to spurn the fruit of his God forsaken loins? Inevitable sex I can cope with, but bearing demented Fae offspring? That is the last thing I want. What if I'm not ready? Will he understand? Will he let me wait? Dear lord, I'm only 18! What if he expects me to get pregnant and I don't? What then? I've seen medieval set movies. I know what happens when the wife proves infertile. I can not have his kids...Do I get any say in raising them? Or do I have to watch them turn into monsters like their father? I can't do this. Urgg, God damn it. What am I going to do..._

She braced the sides of her head to quell her impending headache. They weren't even married yet and she was already freaking out about children. This was all happening so fast, and yet she didn't even know the date for their wedding. She covered her face with splayed hands and groaned. _No. No. No. Stop Sarah. Just shut it out. Lock it away and deal with it later. _She told herself. She would not let her good mood be spoiled by Jareth and his hypothetical non-existent children (children that would also be hers), especially when he wasn't even there. Instead, she took a deep breath and reached for her razor. She couldn't wait to have smooth legs again. _Ok, just keep distracted by acts of mindless physical labor... Gahh puns._

When she finished bathing and had successfully calmed herself down, Sarah found herself standing in front of one of the vanities, tapping a finger against her lip as she scanned over the assortment of brushes, perfumes and make-up. _I wonder if Jareth got all of this as well...Hmmm... _In the end, she decided to pick up nothing but a hairbrush and made her way back into the main room. She was not taking the chance of Jareth confusing her prettying herself up as being a gesture for him.

Speaking of Jareth, she almost expected him to be waiting for her once she exited the washroom, and a small part of her knew that was why she was taking so much time to get ready, and was surprisingly, deniably, disappointed to find the room still completely empty. She walked over towards her vanity, and ran a finger down the picture of her family. Now, after everything had settled down, she found herself wanting to thank Jareth for fixing it for her. But at the same time, the memory of what had happened the previous day made her recoil away from it. Her eyes moved from the picture to the small box containing Hoggle's flowers. She opened it to find them still there, healthy and intact. She wondered where they grew...if she would ever get the chance to visit that place and pick one for herself... She then wondered if Jareth had spotted those as well, and what he thought of them being there. She wanted to keep her friends safe, which meant keeping them out of this and away from Jareth, which also meant not calling Jareth's attention to them any time soon. She found herself frowning as she brushed her fingers over the silky petals. She missed her friends. Lastly, her eyes landed on the coiled heap of her mother's necklace. She'd forgotten she'd worn it here, and reached out as if to put it on, but paused. Seeing her necklace, it made her think of home and for that reason she wanted to keep it close. But, seeing it also made her think of her mother, and how during her entire stay, she'd been solely upset with missing Toby, her father and Karen. Her mother hadn't even made an appearance. Of course, that was due to their estranged relationship, but the fact that one of the only physical mementos keeping her connected to her life Aboveground was from a woman who didn't give two shits about her, made her feel sad and angry. She frowned and looked away. Again, she was not ready to give up her mysterious good mood.

Needing a distraction, she decided to finally embark on her search for Jareth, already contemplating the haughty victory speech he would give her for her being the one to seek him out. She entered the hall and shut the door behind her, ignoring the looming presence of the mysterious second door, the destination of which she still had yet to discover, and began her sauntering journey down the hall.

Her first instinct was to head to the throne room. She still couldn't get over how she managed to know exactly where she was going when she'd only been through these halls once, reaffirming her earlier idea that it had something to do with magic and the castle itself.

As she ventured down the hall, she couldn't help but notice that things seemed...out of place. The hall was a mess. Well, more of a mess than usual. And there were Goblins, lots of them, running up and down the halls. They looked frantic, veering left and right. She found herself jumping on more than one occasion, reflexively shifting out of the path of a Goblin here or there. She also couldn't help but notice that no matter how crazed the Goblins looked, none of them came into contact with her, and would actually throw themselves into the wall rather than risk colliding with her. It was a strange sight, and slightly unnerving. She wanted to ask if they were ok, but they would only scream and run away each time she got close. She tried to stop a few here and there and ask what was going on, why every one was in such a panic, but the ones that didn't scream at her couldn't focus long enough to answer.

On and on this went, and the numbers only grew the closer she neared the throne room. It was then that she started to hear the steady climb of mass chatter emanating from further down the hall. Louder and louder the sound grew, until it was nothing but catatonic yelling and clatter that filled her ears. She rose the few steps leading through the archway into the throne room, and found herself momentarily stunned by the scene that met her.

The throne room was filled with Goblins, literally filled. She'd never seen so many. And all of them were freaking the fuck out. She unwittingly drew a hand up to her lips, now feeling a little intimidated to actually enter the room. They were screaming something, shaking their heads and flailing their arms like they'd just seen Santa Claus, the Easter Bunny, Jesus, aliens and the Tooth Fairy all at once. When her eyes were able to make it through the jumble of the crowd, she brought them to Jareth's throne and tried to ignore the hint of relief she felt at actually finding him where she thought he might be.

Jareth was sitting in his throne, one hand gripped the arm of his chair, while the other pinched the bridge of his nose. He was scowling, or -snarling. His body was both languid and tensed at the same time. He looked exhausted, and completely on edge, as if he might spontaneously combust and take down everyone and everything in the room with him. Sarah worried her brow and quickly stepped into the room. For some inexplicable reason, she wasn't afraid to approach him today.

"Jareth?" Sarah asked, once standing directly beside him. She was a little wary, he hadn't given any indication as to acknowledging her presence. It was...strange. She stepped a little closer when a nearby Goblin suddenly bounded passed. "Jareth? What's going on?" She asked again, growing more and more concerned by the second. Jareth growled and straightened in his seat.

"Nothing I can't handle." He snarled, glaring out at the crowd. Sarah drew her brow tighter.

"Did something happen? Why are they all freaking out like this?" She asked. Jareth sighed hard, more than irritated, but she sensed it wasn't because of her.

"There was an incident in the Labyrinth last night." He said. Sarah frowned. She was staring down at him, but his eyes were fixated on the crowd, it was as if he was purposefully keeping from looking at her. She narrowed her eyes, wondering why _he_ would be irritated with _her_.

"What happened?" Jareth sighed and rolled his head. The small movement allowed her to see some of his expression. He looked...royally pissed off. Shit. She took a reflexive step back.

"Some of the walls bordering the city crumbled during the night, damaging property and sending the masses into a panic." He said in one hot breath. Sarah turned her attention out to the crowd.

"Is everything ok? Did anyone get hurt?" She asked, now even more concerned. Jareth issues aside, she cared deeply for his people. Her eyes darted when she caught sight of Jareth shaking his head from side to side. He had a wry smile on his face.

"The issue has already been resolved." He said. Sarah scowled.

"Then why are they still here, freaking out?" She asked. Jareth rolled his head back against the back of the throne, locking his eyes with Sarah. She had a bit of deer-caught-in-the-headlights moment in the lag before he responded. They looked glazed, like he was running on nothing but fumes. Maybe that was it then...maybe it was his lack of defense, and therefore offense that made her feel unafraid? Perhaps it was because they were in a relatively public setting, allowing her to feel unintimidated by his lone focus, attention and aggravation? Or maybe it was the strange note he chose to leave on last night...Hmm... Either way, she wasn't afraid, and felt rather complacent, so she thought it best not to question and just enjoy.

"Because they're idiots. And because they're Goblins." He said, exasperated.

"How long have you been here? Dealing with them?" She asked. Jareth rolled his eyes.

"Long enough."

"And they won't listen to you?" She asked. There was a flash of a smirk on Jareth's face in response to her question.

"It would seem not." He answered, clipped and irritated. Sarah scowled again, not understanding why they wouldn't listen to their king. Aside from a select few, the Goblins had always been rather obedient of Jareth, and Liana said he was a good King...so why wouldn't they listen in a time of crisis? Jareth seemed to hear Sarah's thoughts, and answered in kind. "It's nearly impossible to break through to them when they're in a state like this, especially when they are in large numbers. Their panic feeds off one another. Each time I try to wrangle them in line, they only panic further." He explained.

"So...what are you going to do then?" Sarah asked. Jareth rose an eyebrow and closed his eyes for a moment.

"Wait for them to calm down. That's all I can really do at the moment." Sarah stood and thought with hand on hip as she scanned over the crowd.

"Let me ask you this, when you say 'wrangle them in line' do you mean yell and kick and threaten to bog?" She asked. She was dead serious, but Jareth seemed to take her question as mockery.

"It's under control, Sarah. You should be off and enjoy a day where you don't have to deal with me." He said, distastefully. Sarah frowned, he sounded...offended? Hurt? What?

"How did the walls of the Labyrinth crumble anyway?" She asked, momentarily distracted by the thought. This time, she thought she could feel the agitation radiating from Jareth. But she didn't feel any trepidation, probably because it wasn't directed at her.

"Apparently, someone was angry." He muttered.

He didn't know then, but Liana's little outburst the previous night had caused unfortunate mishaps within the Labyrinth. Of course, she had fixed it all afterwards -it was her duty-, but the Goblins didn't know that. They didn't know that because they wouldn't listen. So, upon dealing with his subjects, Jareth also had to balance the knowledge that when Liana was unstable, the Labyrinth itself was unstable. And, if Liana was starting to become more like Sarah and vice versa...there were sure to be many more incidents like this in the near future. And that was not good for anyone.

Sarah blinked at him a couple of times, confused by his statement.

"Uhhmmm...ok. Can I try something?" She asked. Jareth's brow twitched, and he glanced up at her from his hunched and brooding position. She took his gesture as a green light.

Taking a step away from Jareth, Sarah hunkered down to kneel beside a small band of Goblins. She didn't notice Jareth's attentions burning into her. She reached out and clasped one of the Goblins by the shoulder, jerking it to attention.

"Hey, what's wrong?" She asked. The Goblin's face turned to focus on hers, its eyes growing wide.

"Rocks fall! Smash! Smash!" It shouted. Jareth started shaking his head over her shoulder.

Sarah tilted her head and smiled.

"Did it break your house?" She asked. The creature settled down a little and nodded.

"Rocks fall from sky. Scare us." It added.

"I see, well, the rock storm is over." She said. The Goblin perked up a bit.

"It is?" It asked. Sarah nodded

"Mhmm, and I guess that means we can go fix your house now, too." Jareth sat up a little in his seat, curious as to what Sarah was getting at.

"Fix?" The Goblin asked. Sarah nodded.

"Yupp. I'm gonna go fix all your houses, but I need help. You should tell everyone and we'll all go back together." She said. The Goblin's face lit up and a huge smile beamed across its face. Suddenly, it was gone, dashing through the crowd as it told the masses to go back out into the city.

Sarah stayed kneeling as she watched the mass of Goblins slowly settle and quiet down. And she smiled to herself when they then started to vacate the throne room. She smacked her hands as if wiping them of dirt and rose to her feet, glancing back at Jareth with a victory smile. A victory smile which soon faded however once she was met with the hard and suspicious expression of the Goblin King.

"What?" Sarah asked. Jareth glared harder.

"What are you doing?" He asked. Sarah's eyes darted around a bit.

"Uhh...I believe I just ridded you of your frantic Goblin problem?" She responded, just a little offensively. _Geez, one would think he'd be grateful... _He cocked his head to one side as he regarded her.

"You're going to fix all their houses, Sarah?" He asked. She couldn't tell if he was mocking her or not.

"No. You said it's already been taken care of. They'll go back to their homes and see everything has been put to right. Didn't you ever try just talking to them? Instead of yelling and threats?" She asked, and for a split second, it seemed like she was talking about something else entirely. Jareth shifted in his seat.

"They usually respond well to my threats." He said. Sarah's brow rose.

"Not from what I just saw." She said and laughed. "You can't bully your way through everything, Jareth. A little compassion and respect can go along way. They may be simple minded creatures, but they're not stupid." She'd turned to face him at the tale end of her sentence, and her smile fell abruptly when she caught sight of his new expression. He'd leaned forward, resting his jaw in his hand, tapping his index finger against his lips as he smiled connivingly up at her. She took half a step back. "What?" She asked, hesitantly.

"Nothing." He said. Sarah felt herself start to wince uncomfortably. _Why does he always stare at me like that? Geez_.

"Ok, then why are you staring at me like that?" She asked. Jareth narrowed his eyes a bit, and a small smirk curled behind his tapping finger.

"No reason, you're just proving my point." He answered, rather ominously. Sarah scrunched her brow and darted her eyes away.

"I'm just reeducating you on how to handle your subjects." She answered, snarkily, and tried not to watch his smile grow out of the corner of her eye.

"Such graciousness will not go un-noted." He said. Sarah scoffed and rolled her eyes, a little irritated with the way he brushed off her insult. It was then that she realized she was_trying_ to rile him. There had to be something wrong with her, to make her try to consciously engage in meaningless confrontation with a man who could snap her in two if he so desired. She shook her head slightly, smirking incredulously to herself. "I do say, you seem to be in a rather fine mood this morning." He added, a little awed and totally sincere. After last night's events, he wasn't sure how he would find Sarah this morning. Of all the scenarios he'd come up with, none were this promising.

Sarah rose an eyebrow and shrugged.

"What can I say? I had a good night's sleep." She replied, putting more than enough emphasis on her words to make sure her meaning truly sunk in.

"Hmm.." He murmured. It fell quiet between them for a moment. Sarah kept her gaze fixated on the diminishing crowd, though she could feel the intensity of his gaze on her. "You're very beautiful when you smile. I much prefer it over your scowling." He then said. A small jolt shot up Sarah's spine, causing her shoulders to tense and her senses to stand to full attention. _WTF? Did he really just say that?_ She was a little shocked, for numerous reasons, a little miffed, and a little embarrassed. She didn't turn back to face him, deciding it was best to just ignore his comment instead. She began growing anxious then. He didn't say anything more, but she could sense the dastardly grin crawling across his face. Thankfully, before the moment could grow any more awkward, the Goblin Sarah had chatted up came prancing back.

"Uhh, lady? You come fix house now?" It asked. Sarah blinked herself away from thoughts of Jareth's mischievous looking face to find the throne room almost completely devoid of Goblins.

"Uhhmmm." She started, and turned back to look at Jareth, unsure of what to say. Could she just go? Leave the castle like that? Would Jareth let her? Jareth's expression remained immobile as he contemplated both Sarah and the Goblins request. After a moment, his finger ceased its tapping.

"Yes." He said, without nearly enough of a pause to have actually thought about it. Sarah's mouth gaped a bit, caught off guard by his response.

"What?" She asked, baffled that he was fine with her leaving the castle without him. Jareth smirked, and sat upright in his throne.

"You made a vow to your subject, Sarah, as future Queen you must see it through." He said. Sarah drew a puzzled brow.

"You're ok with me leaving? Just like that?" She asked.

"As a Queen, you will be expected to interact with our subjects on a much more frequent basis than I. It is obvious you connect with them -one of the reasons I chose your hand in fact. Besides, I have a lot of work to catch up on, so I would be grateful if you handled this situation for me." He paused to lock eyes with her then. "Don't worry, I trust you...just remember what I told you about knowing your exits." He said and with it came a deathly and dangerous undertone, but of what Sarah didn't know. She did however get a quick flashback to their tour the other day - _"You're showing me where the door is? Aren't you worried I'll try to escape?" __"The key word in your question, Sarah, is try. Try all you may, but you will never escape me. No matter where you go, I will always be able to find you. So, no. I'm not worried." Hmm, _she shuddered the thought away.

"Uhhmm...alright then." She said, not about to refuse an offer to get far far away from Jareth for the day, and turned swiftly towards the Goblin. "Ok, let's go."

"And Sarah," Jareth called out, just as she was about to step away. She glanced back at him, expectantly. "I advise you to stay away from the Labyrinth...it isn't safe at the moment." He said. Sarah nodded in understanding, but found it hard to take her eyes away from his. There was something...lurking, something more. It felt..ominous and -dangerous.

"Ok." She said, uncertainly, scrunching her brow just slightly before turning away.

  



	14. The Eye Of The Storm part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While unbeknown to her, Sarah has succeeded in obtaining the one thing the Goblin King has desired for hundreds of years -power over the Labyrinth. After being hidden for years from his diabolical wrath, Sarah finds herself alone and vulnerable as Jareth's dark desires are finally aloud to rear their ugly heads. As always, the only question is, are things really as they seem?

Sarah had almost forgotten what the Goblin City looked like, but as she and a small horde of Goblins trekked down the long staircase leading away from the castle, every detail came flooding back.

She stood, staring out at the picturesque view of the Goblin City. So many memories... Naturally, she thought back to her epic storming of the castle, remarking on how chaotic it became once Ludo's rocks started bounding about, wreaking havoc. Jareth was right, once the Goblins were spooked it was like an avalanche of panic and fear. She suddenly found herself sympathizing with Jareth, or his position as King anyway. He had to deal with the limited mental capacities of an entire kingdom's worth of Goblins on a day to day basis. She tried putting herself in his shoes, since she would soon be prancing around in an almost equally identical pair. Just imaging it was exhausting._ And now It will be my job to bear that burden as well..._ She thought. _It is obvious you connect with them -one of the reasons I chose your hand in fact... _She played over Jareth's words in her head, along with the entire encounter that had just taken place in the throne room. If she and Jareth could agree on one thing, it would be that Sarah could manage his subjects in a way that he could not. The thought made her want to frown. She'd found connecting with the Goblins to be so natural, it was then that she realized she hadn't fully understood what Jareth had meant up until now.

For as long as Jareth had been King -how long was that exactly?- he hadn't been able to capture the hearts of his subjects, or that was how it was appearing to her. Maybe that was why they turned against him so easily? Sure, he could be a good King. He could manage the wealth and wellbeing of the land without fault, but it was obvious there was a wall placed between him and the Goblins that simply didn't exist between them and Sarah. She was finally understanding what he meant by saying she would make a good Queen. In her anger, she'd taken his words for granted. But now she knew. It would be her job to close the gap between the Goblins and their King, to turn Jareth's position from fear-inspiring _Gang Leader_to beloved Sovereign. Ha! As if that could ever really happen.

She rose her chin high as she took in a deep breath, savoring the smell of crisp fresh air. She'd been cooped up within the castle walls for days now. Standing on her own in the great vastness of the Underground seemed to breathe new life into her lungs. A smile spread across her face as a very small wave of what she thought might be happiness fell over her. She was outside, away from Jareth and his devious claws, free from the stone walls that constricted her with the weight of her own thoughts and depression. She felt so settled now, being around the Goblins, helping them, being on her own with no ties -not even a curfew. She didn't know the castle, it was a strange and unfamiliar place; but out in the Labyrinth, even out in the Goblin City, it was like she was a little bit closer to being back in her element again. Ah, yes, she needed this.

She exhaled slowly, and lowered her head to watch as her band of Goblins continued scurrying down the flight of steps and her smile broadened from ear to ear, making a new realization. If she was going to live here, if she was going to survive, maybe even thrive one day, she needed to be happy. If she was going to remain sane she was going to need something other than Jareth in her life. And this was it, the kingdom, _her_ subjects. She'd been so apprehensive whenever contemplating just exactly what it meant to be Goblin Queen and what that role entailed -only ever bringing inevitable catastrophes involving Jareth to mind. But standing here now, amidst the heart of _her_ people, of her friends, she thought, in that small moment, that she was finally starting to understand. That was the difference between being Jareth's wife and being Jareth's slave. He expected things from her, expected her to fill the role he deemed her suitable for. It was her job to unite the kingdom, or that was how she understood it anyway, and she would; but not for Jareth, and not because it was expected of her, but because she cared. She cared about the Underground and its inhabitants, and once she had power, she would do all she could to improve their lives in any way she could. There was so much disaster in her life right now, if she was going to stick through it, it had to be worth it in the end. There had to be some kind of good that came from all this. Whether it be from anger or not, she couldn't help but think someone besides Jareth should benefit from all this. If she couldn't be happy, someone should. Someone that wasn't Jareth.

"Come on lady!"

She blinked a couple of times, clearing her head, and found some of the Goblins waiting at the base of the staircase staring up at her. Her waning smile stretched anew as she met the concerned and excited faces of the Goblins. She shrugged away any remaining thoughts of Jareth and/or Queenship and bounded down the stairs.

* * *

"How far is it until we reach your houses?" Sarah asked. They'd been walking for quite some time, with no apparent end in sight. The Goblin City was much larger than she thought, or remembered; and it was busy, full of commerce and determined patrons buzzing about. Aside from its citizens being non-human, it was a city not unlike any other she'd been to in the Aboveground. There were street markets, business and resident blocks. There was even a recreation area where what she assumed were Goblin children were playing. It was an eerie sight. She'd ran through it so fast the first time, she'd never gotten the chance to actually see what the city had to offer. The farther they walked the more Sarah wondered. She thought back to that morning, when she'd spied clouds of dust near the city wall. She assumed that must be the area they were heading to, but she was so high up...she didn't realize how far of a walk it would actually be.

"Almost there." Said a Goblin. Sarah stared hard at its profile, trying desperately to remember its name. _Walla? Wolla? Something... _During the course of there walk, Sarah had made an effort to learn the names of each member of her caravan. There were about twelve or so, and she was having a hard time discerning one Goblin from the other. As unique as some of the Goblins could be from one another, they could also look eerily identical. She pursed her lips as she tried to give them their proper labels. "Hey, Lady, you didn't bring any tools." Walla/Wolla said. Sarah's brow shot up, surprised and distracted from her thoughts.

"Oh! That's right...I-uhhh...I'm going to use my magic." She answered, off the top of her head. The Goblins seemed to accept this as an answer and didn't press further. She smiled at their smug certainty. They had such light hearts. It was a breath of fresh air after dealing with Jareth's hard...everything. "And by the way, my name is Sarah." She added.

The caravan suddenly stopped dead. She then realized they had created a walking circle around her. She almost tripped into the pair in front of her. She widened her gaze and looked around the bunch.

"What?" She asked. They were all staring at her, wide eyed and...dare she say -afraid?

"You Sarah? Why didn't you say!" Wollu -that was his name- piped. He seemed to be the leader of the group, or at least the most vocal. Sarah stood taken aback a bit, and blinked down at them, not sure as to why that was such a big deal.

"Uhmm..." She started to say, but drowned the noise in her own throat when her circle of Goblins suddenly dropped to their knees and bowed.

Sarah worried her brow, feeling uncomfortable with their manner of action. She started looking around, feeling much too tall for her surroundings. The city Goblins started to stare as they passed, and once they caught sight of the few knelt to the ground, their eyes widened and they immediately dropped to the same position. Sarah gulped, feeling extremely awkward and out of place.

"What are you all doing?" She asked, and brought a hand to her chest as if to catch her breath. Wollu rose his head just enough to meet her in the eye.

"You didn't say you's Sarah. We didn't know. Please forgive. We didn't know you's was the Queen." Wollu said.

Sarah actually flinched backwards, mentally blown back by his terminology. With the tips of her fingers still pressed to her sternum, she brought her gaze away from Wollu to look out over the crowd once more. It was dead quiet. Every Goblin in sight was bowing, unmoving. She frowned. She didn't like it.

"Please, stand. You don't have to bow to me." She said, keeping her voice calm enough as to only reply to Wollu, but still managing to address the crowd. Almost in unison, the Goblins rose, but otherwise remained still. "Ok, this is weird. I'm not Queen yet, so please, please just go back to what you were doing." She called out to the masses. The ones that were close enough for her to see do so blinked absently at her, as if not understanding.

"But you are Queen." Quirked a Goblin to Sarah's left. She turned her head and stared, confused and a little repulsed.

"No, I'm not. Jareth and I aren't married yet. I'm just a normal person, like you." She said. The Goblins started tilting their heads this way and that as they took in her words.

"But...Sarah is the Queen. The heralds told us so." This time, it was a Goblin to Sarah's right that spoke. She turned her head to face that one next. Reekuo? Hmmm...

"The heralds?" Sarah asked.

"Yes! The heralds! They bring us news from the castle! They say there is a new Queen, and her name is Sarah. You are Sarah, so you must be the Queen!"

The frozen crowd around her started to chatter amongst themselves. Louder and louder it grew until the sound was enough to break them free of their imprisoning stances. Suddenly, random Goblins were approaching her left and right, carrying baskets and poultry and god knows what else. She darted her head frantically through the crowd. This was sure to get out of control fast if she didn't do something.

"Queen! Queen! Take this gift!"

"Queen Lady! Present for Queen!"

"Make Queen happy! Give her gifts!"

"Fealty to Queen!"

The excited shouting overlapped one another. Tiny hands darted boxes and trinkets at her, pushing through each other. She shook her head and tried backing away, but they were already surrounding her.

"That's ok. Thank you, but- no, really, you keep it." She tried talking her way out of it, but it was useless, they were too excited. It wasn't until they started bouncing at her that she finally found her brain.

"Enough!" She shouted, with a firm authority in her voice. She stood tall, and put a dark and domineering expression on her face. The Goblins halted immediately, staring wide eyed and expectantly up at their Queen. She held her hands out dramatically and looked out over the crowd, putting to acting skills to use. "Thank you. Now, please be quiet and listen to me." She called out. Now that she had their attention, she could go back to being herself. "I may be your Queen, but you will not treat me as such. I am your friend foremost, not your superior. Do you understand? Do not bow to me. Do not offer to pay me tribute. If you want to give me something, give me the gift of your friendship." She stopped then, and waited. Slowly, and rather reluctantly, the Goblins lowered their arms, darting their eyes away as if embarrassed and took a few steps back. She gave a sigh of relief, welcoming the few feet of space and softened her features into a smile. "But thank you, I appreciate your thought. Now please, go back to your day. Pay me no mind. I don't want to be treated any different than any of you." She was hoping to see smiles on their faces, but their expressions only turned more uncertain. They looked...sad.

"But...but you are Queen. We can not treat you as us. It is law...and...we want to give you presents." That sentence was made up of the proclamations of several different Goblins. Sarah blinked, and frowned, just now realizing that she may have offended them by refusing their offers. She pursed her lips as she thought.

"Well...thank you, all of you. But...I can't accept all of your gifts, I simply can't carry them all." She said with a sympathetic smile. She paused awkwardly. They were all staring at her. "And besides...I'm out here on business...how about this...I'll come back again, when I have free time, and then I'll accept your gifts." She said, in an attempt to compromise. Truth be told, she wasn't sure when the next time she would be able to venture out into the city would be...

The Goblins seemed to accept this, and started to return to their usual cheery selves.

"In the mean time, I would like for all of you to think of me as your friend. Could you give me that? And...call me Sarah, not Queen." She asked. There, that brought smiles to their faces.

"Queen friend?"

"No! Not Queen, Sarah, geez!"

"The Queen wants us to be friends?"

"NO! Sarah!"

"Sarah is our friend!"

"Queen a lot nicer than King."

"Shhhhh!"

"SHE SAID SARAH!"

It wasn't long until the crowd was cheering with righteous merriment. Sarah couldn't help but laugh, they had so much fervor. But, again, she could see this new situation growing out of hand as well and thought it best they move on.

"Alright...alright, alright. Calm down, please. I have to get going now." She said, and tried tip toeing around them as they leaped and zipped by. They seemed to be paying attention to her this time.

"Goodbye Queen Sarah!" They began shouting randomly, waving as Sarah cautiously made her way out of the crowd, her band close behind. She turned back and waved in return before heading down what she thought was probably a main road, leading to the next block and hopefully the city wall.

Sarah found herself looking back over her shoulder as she walked down the stretch of dirt road. Her shoulders were hunched over, and she walked cautiously as if treading a mine field. She felt so...out in the open now. She didn't want that kind of attention. She didn't want to be viewed as their master, someone to may tribute to and cower in fear of punishment should they make the slightest mistake. No, that may be how Jareth preferred to be viewed, but not her. She wanted to be their equal, because there was no reason they couldn't be hers. She was no more than mortal. She had no higher calling, no glittering royal blood or special powers. She wanted friends, not servants.

So, as she walked in the center of her small group of travelers, she couldn't help but notice their change in demeanor. They seemed...more careful now. They were quiet, and more serious, glancing around as if scanning the area for threat. As she looked around the circle, she realized that's exactly what they were doing, they were protecting her. She wanted to groan. They were fine and friendly before they knew who she was. Damn it, they were not her security detail.

"Hey, do you guys know where the Sulu District is?" She asked, just to break the silence. A couple of the Goblins heads popped up.

"Uhh, no, My Lady."

"Nope. Never heard of it." Answered two Goblins. Sarah pursed her lips contemplatively. Hmm...

"Do you know what district we're in?" She asked, tapping her index finger against her lip as she spoke.

"We in the Zarhi District." Said...Nogi..? Sarah nodded and looked further down the road. She could see the next set of houses, and the beige backdrop of what would soon refine into the city wall.

"I see...how many districts are there?" She asked. It was Wollu who answered this time.

"Thirteen." He said.

"Oh. Thirteen? The kingdom must be pretty big then." She rose her brow when all twelve of her party turned to look at her.

"Uhh, thirteen districts in the Goblin City...not the kingdom." Reekuo said. Sarah paused in her step.

"Wait...there's thirteen districts in just the Goblin City? How many cities are there?" She asked, surprised that she hadn't thought of that sooner.

"I dunno." They said simultaneously. "There are lots of cities...and then there are the Barrens, and the Northern Kingdom." They added on. Sarah found herself having to consciously speed up in her step she was so distracted.

"The Barrens?" She asked.

"Yea, the lands between the cities." One Goblin answered.

"You mean like the countryside?" She asked for clarification. Wollu gave her a scrunched brow.

"Countryside?" He asked, confused.

"Plains? Open land? Farming? Rural areas?"

"Uhh...yeah." Sarah pursed her lips again as she thought.

"What's the Northern Kingdom?" She asked.

"The Northern Kingdom." Reekuo answered. Sarah scoffed.

"Ok, what makes it any different from the rest of the kingdom?"

"It really far away. Hard to get to. Lots of mountains and snow." The Goblin Sarah thought was named Nogi said.

"Oh." She twisted her lips and looked all around the scenery once again. They were just approaching the next block. "I guess this place is a lot bigger than I thought..."

"We here!"

Sarah looked up to find them entering a small residential area. It was mostly vacated, probably because most of its residents were standing alongside her. She looked up at the massive wall with impressed awe. It stood about fifty feet high, and didn't have a scratch on it. She wondered how in the world Jareth managed to fix this so fast. Then she remembered he had something humans didn't -magic. Duh. She looked down to find the Goblins in even more awe than she. Their mouths actually hung open a little as they looked over their never-broken houses.

"Wow. Queen Sarah, you works fast." Wollu said, appraisingly. Sarah huffed and gave a soft laugh. The rest of the band began making sounds of ooh and ahh before moving to approach their individual houses.

"Look! It's good as new!"

"You must have some powerful magic Queenie!"

"Yea...everything should be good to go." Sarah said, with firm hand on hip. If only she really did have magic... Her eyes flickered down, sensing the Goblin's eyes on her.

"Thank you, Sarah." They all said. She smiled.

"Don't thank me. It's my duty to look out for you guys. To keep you safe..." Her voice trailed off for some reason. Her eyes traveled off to the side, scanning over the dusty roads and houses, and then caught on something.

As if completely forgetting she was in the middle of a conversation, Sarah began walking away from the Goblins. They looked on after her, confused, as she walked mindlessly down the road.

"Hey! Where you goin'?" Reekuo shouted. The bunch started after her when she didn't answer. They followed close behind, watching warily as she slowly stepped to stand before the city gate.

Sarah stood, a little stunned, her mind drawing a blank. _This is...this is the gate. The way back into the Labyrinth..._she thought. She could have sworn it wasn't there a moment ago, but here she was, standing no more than a foot away from the giant metal Guardian's backside. So many memories came flooding back. She rose a hand and laid it cautiously against the metal door. _Beyond this door lay the free world. I'm so close...If I just pushed a little..._ She thought, and then soon realized that being out of the city didn't mean she would be free of Jareth. He'd warned her specifically about trying to run... She lowered her head to the ground, and frowned. What was the point? Sure, she could push open the door and bolt into the Labyrinth, but where would she go? What would she do? And besides, Jareth could find her with the snap of his fingers. It would only cause her pointless pain... Her last thoughts were of the warning Jareth had given her, about the Labyrinth being dangerous. Would it be more dangerous to run away than to stay in the castle with Jareth? Apparently the city was safe...

"Sarah?" The Goblins asked in unison. She blinked a couple of times and shook her head clear, pushing away the melancholy with a smile as she looked up to them.

"This...this is the gate...out of the city." She murmured. The Goblins furrowed their brows.

"Yes?" They answered, their eyes trailing Sarah's hand as it fell limp to her side. She took a step away, and tilted her head as she gave them a reassuring smile.

"I'm sorry, just knowing my exits." She said, and reluctantly headed back down to the set of houses. The smile didn't last, however, slowly fading into nothing by the time they arrived once more.

She stared out over the land, glancing back towards the gate over her shoulder. This...this is it. This is what she'd planned to do...and it was over. Her day, free of gloomy walls and devious dictators, was coming to an end. What should she do now? Go back to the castle and Jareth? It was barely passed mid-day. She looked down to the ground, zoning out on the dust plastering her boots. She didn't want to go back... By the time she brought her attention back to the Goblins, they were frowning. It was then that she realized it was because she herself was frowning.

"What's wrong?" They asked.

"Nothing, I...this just..didn't take as long as I thought it would..." She murmured, keeping her gaze cast down at the ground. The Goblins tilted their heads, sympathetic and not quite understanding.

"Do you have to go back now?" Nogi asked. Sarah thought on that a moment. Did she have to go back? Who was going to make her if she didn't want to? Jareth wasn't with her after all...when did he expect her to be back? Did she have a curfew? She opened her mouth as if to speak, but nothing came.

"If Queen wishes, you can stay with us. We make you dinner! Say thank you for fixing our houses!"

"Yea! Yea! Stay Queen!"

"She said to call her Sarah." Wollu interjected, annoyed. Suddenly, the band's faces lit up like the forth of July at the prospect of entertaining the Queen. It made her laugh. She felt like Snow White and her seven (twelve) Dwarves.

"I-" She started, but found herself choking on the puppy dog eyes they were all giving her.

"Oh please!? Please, Queen Sarah? It would be ours honor to have the Queen in our homes." Nogi said. Sarah sighed, defeated.

"Well..when you put it like that, how can I refuse?" She said, and followed the cheering Goblins as they escorted her into their homes, leaving her worries behind.

* * *

The day passed in a blur. The Goblins were so excited to have Sarah as their company, that they made sure to keep her thoroughly entertained throughout every passing second. She found it a little overwhelming, but it was a pleasant change from the other kind of overwhelming behavior she'd been dealing with. She received detailed tours of each household, met the families of each of her new friends. It was quaint, full of warmth and love. They'd come to a consensus on having dinner in Wollu's house, as it was the biggest, which wasn't saying much seeing how Sarah still had to bend over so as to not hit her head on the ceiling. She managed to steal some quiet time during dinner preparations. Apparently, it fell to the women to cook, which meant the men had all left to find other means of entertainment. They tried to drag Sarah with them, but she reasoned by saying that as a woman her place was in the kitchen with the other wives (even though she didn't believe in that ideology for a second). It was nice once the men were gone. The house was quiet, and there was actually room to sit down.

At first, Wollu's wife, Lahna, wouldn't let Sarah lift a finger, saying she was a guest and more importantly a Queen. She should sit and be pampered, not pluck chickens and skin potatoes with the likes of them. Sarah's stubbornness kicked in at that remark, responding by saying that being the Queen meant she could do whatever she wanted, and if she wanted to help cook then no one could tell her she couldn't. In the end, she got stuck with dish duty.

Once the dishes were clean and set, she found herself feeling rather useless, as dinner wouldn't be ready for some time and Lahna had tactfully taken care of everything else while Sarah was washing dishes. Not wanting an awkward silence, she asked the Goblin about what had happened regarding the wall.

"We really don't know." Lahna started. "It was night out, we's was sleepin' an all of the sudden everythin' starts shakin'. Wollu got up to go see, but a big rock had come in and crushed through the door." She said, while zipping from one end of the tiny kitchen to the other. As Sarah listened, she noticed that Wollu and his wife seemed a great deal more intelligent than some of the other Goblins, and couldn't help but wonder why. "We's went outside, and everythin' was on fire."

"On fire?" Sarah interrupted. Lahna nodded.

"Yepp. Rocks were fallin down everywhere. Everyone was sreamin', runnin' around like chickens. A couple houses fell apart. We's was lucky we only had a hole in the door." The Goblin said, and paused as she struggled to lift a bowl of ...something. Sarah jumped to her toes and helped the little woman.

"What happened afterwards?" She asked. Lahna leaned against the kitchen table, and used the back of her hand to wipe her brow.

"Wollu and the others left for the castle. We's lucky we lives so close, when there's a problem we can just go to the castle. Other's have to wait." Sarah nodded, reaching into a bucket of silverware to help set the table. "It was still darks out when they's left. There was fire and smoke and dust, hard to see. When dawn came, the fires were gone. Some of the townsfolk that stayed started cheerin' that the rock storm was over, but I know it wasn't a storm. The wall fell down, but it was fixed by the time the sun came up." Sarah drew her brow a bit, contemplatively.

"If it was fixed, how do you know it fell in the first place?" She asked. Lahna looked back and pointed out the tiny kitchen window.

"Because of the roses." She said. Sarah glanced back, confused and had to hunker down to peer out the window. Low and behold, she was facing the wall. As she looked up it's massive face, she saw something strange.

There were vines, growing on the face of the wall. They were thick and tangled, but what was interesting were the brilliant golden roses that bloomed from them. It was dark out now, just passed eight o'clock she guessed, and the light from the houses shone and glint across their petals like true metal. She narrowed her eyes and cocked her head slightly, she'd never seen roses like that.

"What do roses mean?" She asked, finding herself entranced as she tried to take her gaze away from the window.

"Gold roses mean the spirit has come." Lahna said. Ok, that captured Sarah's attention, allowing her to turn away from the window. _Spirit? Is this...some kind of Goblin religion?_ She wondered.

"What spirit?" She asked.

"The spirit of the Labyrinth."

"The spirit of the Labyrinth leaves roses?"

"No. The spirit is the roses. It is the stone, the birds and the butterflies. It is everything. The vines mark the spot where the Labyrinth has healed itself. That's how I know it was the wall that crumbled." She explained. Sarah pursed her lips as she mulled this over, trying to discern if this were real or just Goblin folklore. Either way, Sarah found herself mightily interested.

"Do you know what made the walls crumble in the first place?" Sarah asked. Lahna shook her head.

"No. But everything is fixed now, so whatever happened must be ok." She said.

"Lahna, if you don't mind me asking...you and Wollu seem more -educated than the others, can I ask why that is?"

"You can ask anything you want of me, My Lady." Sarah glared a bit, but urged her to press on. "I was in the service of a Queen once, a long time ago. She liked to have her servants educated, somewhat. At least enough so as to carry out a decent intellectual conversation." She answered.

"What happened?" Sarah asked, curious as to how Lahna went from serving a Queen to...this?

"She passed on."

"Oh.."

"Yes. She passed on, and since my services were no longer needed, I was free to live my own life. I moved here, where I met Wollu. I taught him the things I knew as best I could." She said. Sarah nodded distractedly, reminded once again that there was so much going on in this world that she simply had no idea about. She was disrupted from her thoughts however, when the men suddenly burst through the door.

"Is dinner ready yet?"

  



	15. The Eye Of The Storm part 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While unbeknown to her, Sarah has succeeded in obtaining the one thing the Goblin King has desired for hundreds of years -power over the Labyrinth. After being hidden for years from his diabolical wrath, Sarah finds herself alone and vulnerable as Jareth's dark desires are finally aloud to rear their ugly heads. As always, the only question is, are things really as they seem?

"Wow, this is really good, Lahna." Sarah murmured, appraisingly, after shoving another forkful of dot dot dot into her mouth. She'd decided some time ago it would better to_ not _know what it was they were eating, as long as it tasted good.

"Thank you, My Lady."

"I told you, call me Sarah."

"Of course, Sarah." She said, uncomfortably.

Lahna's dinner for twenty had turned out exceptional. The whole block had come to honor Sarah, though now it seemed they were just in it for the food. She didn't mind, and actually preferred it that way. She was perfectly content sitting on the sidelines, listening to one interesting conversation or another, occasionally piping in about something. It was nice, worry free, fun. As she looked around the cramped room, catching the smiles of all her new friends, she couldn't help but wonder what her old friends were doing, where they were. She lowered her fork, unconscious to the frown marring her face.

"Something wrong, Sarah?" Wollu asked. They were sitting around a knee high table (knee high to Sarah), she was seated between Wollu and Reekuo, Lahna on Wollu's left. She turned her head to face Wollu as she thought over whether or not to ask.

"I just -got to thinking. Hey, do any of you know anyone by the name of Hoggle?" She dared ask. The group thought a moment.

"Hoggle?...uhmmm, no?" Was the general answer. Sarah frowned, wondering where in the kingdom Hoggle lived, and frowned further when realized she'd never bothered to ask.

"How about a monster named Ludo? or a Knight by the name of Sir Didymus?" She asked, only receiving blank stares.

"Hmm...no." They answered again. Sarah looked down to her plate, which was already clear of food. That was always the one problem with her never ending appetite -she was always hungry. Normally, she would have just asked for seconds, but the Goblin's small stature meant they had small stomachs and therefore a relatively small amount of food being prepared for dinner. There wasn't any left.

"Oh, that's ok." She said, gripping the rim of her plate as she thought, and then stood to deposit it in the sink. The once merry Goblins stared on, concerned.

"Sarah, are you alright?"

"Oh no, Sarah sad!"

She paused after setting her plate in the sink, her eyes catching the flash of the vines outside.

"No, I'm fine. Really." She said, turning back to smile and almost laughed at seeing just how big their eyes had grown, full of nothing but concern. "It's a little crowded in here, I'm gonna go get some fresh air." She said and carefully made her way out the back door.

It was cool out now that the sun had gone down. The sound of crickets chirping made the ground vibrate under her feet. It was so much louder now that she wasn't holed up in a mile high tower. And she was alone. As much as she welcomed the Goblin's company, it was starting to get a tad claustrophobic. She took a deep breath and made her way, through what the Goblins referred to as a backyard, to the shroud of the city wall.

It was beyond massive close up, each stone block weighing a few tons, at least. She looked up, finally able to examine the curious roses she'd been spying all night. They rested a few feet above her head, each one a glinting metallic beauty. She stood up on her tip toes and reached, but caught nothing but vine. She took a step back, and bent her knees before jumping up into the air, clawing at the nearest rose. She caught it, and pulled it down with her, not anticipating the thorns jetting from its stem.

She winced as the sharp edge of the thorns bit into her palm, but the pain was hardly there, clouded by the allure she felt over the curious flower. She held it in her hands, marveling at how voluptuous and healthy it was. Rarely had she ever seen a rose this fully bloomed and strong, its petals remaining firmly intact even after being yanked and jerked from its vine.

She brought it close to her face, and turned it from side to side, observing the way the light behind her reflected and glinted off of it. In curiosity, she brought a finger to poke at it, wondering if it were really made of metal. To her surprise, its petals were as soft as velvet. She looked back up at the wall, awed. _Spirit of the Labyrinth..._

"Sarah?!" A voice called from behind. She turned to find Nogi leaning out the back door. "We's all gonna play poker now! You wanna play?" He asked. Sarah smiled, feeling her happiness and all around good mood come back to her. She squeezed the flower a little tighter.

"Sure."

* * *

"Well guys, I think I'm gonna call it a night." Sarah said, laying down her hand. They'd been playing for a couple hours now, and it was getting rather late. Besides, since she was Queen, there was no way they were going to let her lose. They tried to play it off as cool, but Sarah didn't even know how to play poker, so there was no way she could have actually won every hand. She looked up to the clock, it was almost eleven, and still no sign of Jareth...

"Aw, really?" They all whined.

"Don't worry, I'll come back. And maybe you could even come to the castle." She proposed, hoping and succeeding in brightening up their faces.

"Ok." They said, and stood to head her out. "Thank you for fixing our houses. Goodbye, Queen Sarah." They said, pausing to give her room so she could open the door. She had a flash of wonder as to how she was going to find her way back to the castle when the answer was suddenly standing in front of her face.

Sarah didn't notice right away, it was only after she'd shut the door behind her that she saw the pair of guards waiting on either side of the door. She recognized them, not specifically, but their armor. One was blue, the other green, and both were riding the strange, droopy dinosaur things she'd run into while storming her way to the castle. They each held a spear in their hand, the blue guard with number 1 and the green with the number 3. The irony made her want to scoff, but she didn't. They were standing patiently, quietly, apparently waiting for her to make the first move.

"Ummm...can I help you?" She asked, feeling awkward with their silence and surprise presence in general. Their strange steeds stood to attention.

"Apologies, Your Majesty, we are under order to escort you back to the castle whenever you are ready." They said. Sarah continued to give them a peculiar eye.

"Escort? How long have you been out here, waiting for me?" She asked, confused as to why Jareth would send guards to collect her and then -not collect her.

"We've been out here most of the day, My Lady." The blue one answered. Sarah drew back a bit.

"If that's so, then why didn't I see you out here earlier?" She asked.

"Because you were not ready to leave. Our orders were only to approach you once you were ready to go back to the castle." The green one answered. Sarah glanced suspiciously between the two of them, trying to wrangle in the fact that Jareth had been keeping eyes on her all day, and wondered what else was watching her that she didn't know about. _Hm, so much for trusting me._

"Ok then, let's go." She said, and turned to start walking, but was cut off quick by both guards. She glared, about to snap at them, but they beat her to it.

"Would thy Lady prefer to ride?" The blue one asked. Sarah's eyes flickered down to their drooling beasts, and she winced repulsively.

"Uhh, no. I think I'll walk." She said. Not a second later, both guards simultaneously dismounted their carriers, and turned to walk along either side of her. "Um, just because I want to walk doesn't mean you have to." She said.

"Inappropriate." Said the green one.

"The Guard can not ride while the Queen remain on foot. If you will not ride, then we must walk with you." Explained the blue one. Sarah drew her brow.

"No, that's really ok. Please, it's pointless to waste your energy. Just get back on your -horse things." She tried to persuade.

"I'm sorry, My Lady. It is not our place. We must always be at a lower level to the Queen." They both answered, consecutively.

"Says who? As your Queen I order you to get back on your steeds." There, maybe that tactic would work. She really didn't want to be treated like she was up on some pedestal grounded by Jareth. It was really starting to bug her. They started to shift around uncomfortably.

"Says the King, My Lady. If he were to get word that we escorted you back on foot...while we rode...with your order or not, it would not be good. Please, Your Majesty. Either ride along with us, or let us walk along with you." She heard the bit of plea in their voices, as if they were scared of what would happen should they not do this. She frowned, knowing full well how they must feel about Jareth's repercussions. And she was only making it harder for them. She huffed and rolled her eyes.

"Fine. But I'm still not riding that thing. If you really feel you should walk, then walk." She said, exasperated and throwing her hands up in the air. Seriously, why did it even matter?

The rest of the walk was carried out in silence, all parties seemingly content, though she couldn't really tell due to their helmets. It hadn't taken long to reach the castle doors, maybe because the whole time was spent burning through thoughts of what she would do once she got back. The giant doors opened effortlessly as she approached. She looked up the scale of them, wondering how they knew when to open, and then took a step across the threshold, pausing when noticing her guards didn't follow. She turned back, glancing at them expectantly.

"Our orders were to bring you back to the castle, My Lady." They said. Sarah narrowed her eyes, just a tad.

"Just the castle? Not the hall? Or the lobby? Or my room? Or directly to Jareth? Just the castle?" She asked, incredulous that Jareth wouldn't want her brought straight to him.

"No, Majesty." They answered. "But if you would like us to escort you to the King-" They stared, before being rudely cut off by Sarah.

"No. Nonono. That won't be necessary." She spat out, quickly, waving her hands out in front of her as if to ward them off. She didn't know how they would react to that, but they only straightened, taking their familiar stance and nodded. "Ok, well, thank you for walking with me."

"It is our privilege and honor, My Lady." They said, bowing their heads.

"Alright, well...goodnight then." She said, awkwardly. The two guards gave her a salute, and then backed away as the lumbering doors started to magically close.

* * *

Sarah stood in the dimly lit entryway into the grand hall. She'd never been out of her room this late, and found the castle to be uncomfortably empty. Her footsteps echoed in the dead of night, a sound that seemed so much louder now that the sun was down. She looked to her right, the stairwell leading up to the throne room was that way. Then she looked to the left, remembering that that hall inevitably lead up to her room. She found herself torn, not sure where to go. She was back, back in the castle and in the same residence as Jareth; but...she wasn't with Jareth. She felt odd, oddly bereft without his overpowering presence. She didn't think she'd ever get a day to herself now that she was with him. He was so domineering and -overwhelming, it seemed surreal that during the small amount of time in which she did see him today, he hadn't been interested in her in the slightest. Such a shift came with just as much welcoming as it did warning.

She thought she would be ecstatic to have a day devoid of Jareth, but now that it was over, the truth was, she just felt...uncertain. He was her one constant. Without him she had and knew nothing. Regardless of him taunting or tormenting her, she felt grounded to the situation just because he was in it, which spoke for itself in her current predicament. She had genuinely enjoyed her day without him however, needing to take a breather from everything that was going on between them; but that's what it was -a breather, a break. It was only temporary, she knew she would be coming back to face him. But what was putting her off in this moment was the culmination of all his strange behavior. He'd given her so much freedom today...he'd placed so much trust in her- not to run away, not to do something...horrible. He gave her a whole day without him. Was there a reason for it? Was he giving her space to make up for yesterday's indiscretion or something? And what struck her as even more strange, was the way she found herself lost in the middle of the hall -hadn't she wanted to get away from him? Was she expecting to go straight to him? Should she just go back to her room and sleep? Would he be waiting for her there? All she wanted was an arrow, something to point her in the right direction. Right now she just had -too many options. And it was crazy for her to even think that, to think that she actually wanted Jareth to give her direction, but the facts were that she was trying to run when she was still having trouble crawling. She needed a better understanding of this world before she tried to branch out into it and away from Jareth, and at its core, Jareth was her only real means of doing so. He was smart, powerful, and had all the answers. She found herself hanging off a ledge, clinging to whatever information he chose to give her, and as she thought over the past few days, she realized that she and Jareth had been arguing over so much pointless bullshit that they hadn't actually had a real conversation since he'd told her about the boar attack. Jareth was right when he'd said she needed control. She did need it, but it was impossible for her to have it and deep down, she knew that a part of her was calling out to have someone take control for her. That way, she would have a base line to focus on, something to settle everything else. But a larger, more dominant part of her brain would rather go to Hell than let Jareth take control. He wanted everything, no exceptions and that was a concession she simply could not make.

And on that note, a decision had been made. She turned and headed left down the hall towards her room. She walked briskly, her shoulders tensed and her stare hard, but she didn't quite know why. She reached her room much too quickly, and tried and failed not to burst into it, only to stop dead in her tracks with her hand still on the handle. She let out a tense breath that she hadn't realized she was holding. Her room was -empty. And as the weight started to lift and then resettle on her shoulders, she realized that she was in fact hoping to find Jareth waiting for her. She wanted him to be here, waiting arrogantly and patiently for her return. She wanted to see his smug face and mischievous grin. She wanted him to be there, so she could be angry at him.

After a moment, she let go of the handle and sagged her shoulders. What in the world was wrong with her? Why did she always want to fight him? Why? When things were perfectly fine, why would she want to prod him? She didn't have the answer to that question, but knew that no good would come from that kind of behavior. She needed to shake out of it, she'd had such a good day after all, did there need to be a reason why she couldn't have a good night as well?

She went to take a step across the threshold, but couldn't. If she was smart, she would have dropped the issue. She would have straightened her back and walked right in. She would have forgotten everything and climbed into bed, but she didn't. She couldn't just leave this niggling feeling unresolved, or she would go mad with her own thoughts. She knew that if she wanted any chance at getting some sleep tonight, she had to see him. She had to find Jareth.

Sarah turned on her heel and closed the door behind her. Half of her wanted nothing to do with Jareth. Half of her was screaming that going to see him was going to be a huge mistake. But the other half just couldn't leave the matter hanging. She hated dragging things out. Whenever there was a problem, she searched for the best and quickest way to solve it. And it wasn't so much that she had a problem at the moment -at least nothing significant that stood out from everything else- as it was that she had this nagging sense of unfinished business. She didn't know why, maybe it was her lack of company with him in general, but she felt an almost desperate need to see him, not throw herself at him or anything of the sort, but just to check in, to let him know she made it back ok. After she saw him -after she did that, then maybe this feeling would go away so she could calm down and go to bed.

She'd made it about ten feet down the hall before she realized she had no idea where he was. She thought a moment. He probably wasn't still in the throne room, and he definitely wasn't in her room. He'd said he had a lot of work to catch up on...and from what she could remember, Jareth didn't have one singular and grand office space where she could count on finding him. It was late, almost midnight, and she wasn't sure if he would still be working or not anyway. Maybe he went to bed...but then again, she couldn't see Jareth just going to sleep while she was still out and about, and if he was just lounging in his room, then she might as well give up now. There was no way she was going to willingly put herself in that deathtrap. And yet, her curiosity had her wondering just where Jareth's room was anyway. He hadn't showed it to her in their tour... She shook her head of that course of thought, right quick. There was one other room that held a chance -the library. It was grand enough, and certainly suitable to work in. Ok, she would check the library, and if he wasn't there then oh well, guess it's a night of restless sleep for her. With her destination now marked, she pressed on.

* * *

She found herself standing outside the library door within minutes. She rose a hand, but wasn't sure if she should knock first or just walk right in. As the seconds started to pass, she concluded that knocking would imply that she thought someone was inside -undoubtedly Jareth. So if she knocked, assuming that Jareth was inside, it would stand to tell that she _was_in fact looking for him, giving him reason to question her motives; whereas if she simply walked in, it could be argued that they met by chance. She shook her head as her eyes re-registered her hand held tensed and conflicted in mid-air. She was over-thinking this way too much.

She tried to play it casual while opening the door, and then completely oblivious when walking inside.

The room was just as she remembered it, though a great deal darker. The fire off to the right was already well lit, implying that there _was_ in fact an occupant. She took a step inside and peered all around. It was quiet. For a moment, she wondered if this room was actually empty. But, as she turned her gaze, she found what she was looking for.

There was a desk to the left of the room. The light from the fire barely reached that far, but there were numerous candles lit all around. The sight of their soft, flickering flames worried her. What if one of the books caught on fire? There was so much knowledge in this room...

Her eyes lowered to find a quietly resolved-looking Jareth staring down as he wrote something on a piece of parchment. She froze for a moment, just plain intimidated to be in his presence, but nothing happened. She didn't quite know what would happen at this point, but she expected him to say something snarky to her, and at the very least she expected him to look up. But he didn't. He didn't acknowledge her in the slightest. She wondered if maybe he was simply too engrossed in whatever he was writing to have been paying attention, but another part of her couldn't help but think he was purposefully ignoring her.

She took a few steps closer, trying subtly to make him aware of her, but still she received nothing. The silence was starting to get to her. She suddenly felt full of trepidation, like she was barging in on him when she shouldn't be. She peered over the desk, and saw a mass stack of parchment off to one side. She couldn't hide her frown. It was obvious he was still working, and by the looks of it, wouldn't be done for quite some time. A voice in the back of her head told her to just back away slowly and pretend she was never there.

"Errhmmm-" She started, awkwardly clearing her throat when her voice caught. "Um...I'm back." She said, just over a whisper. Time seemed to be moving at an agonizing slow pace all of the sudden.

"So I see." He murmured, not bothering to look up at her. She wanted to glare at him. _You would see if you bothered to look at me._ Her thoughts grumbled.

She didn't respond right away, feeling awkward for even being there. He didn't seem interested in the slightest. Should she just leave? She felt her shoulders sag just a little. She turned, glancing back at the door.

"Did you manage to get everything taken care of in the city?" He quirked. She glanced back, but his gaze was still cast down, only now instead of writing, he was folding the paper and sliding it into an envelope.

"Yes..." She said, softly, her voice full of defeat but she didn't know why.

A minute passed in silence, and Sarah found herself standing awkwardly -again. Maybe she _should_ just leave...

"If you're busy I can leave..." She suggested, and only after realized that in doing so told him that she indeed wanted to stay. But did she? Didn't she just want to check in and call it a night? Something was off with her, but she didn't know what. All she knew was that she desperately wanted him to talk to her, to look at her, anything.

Jareth didn't respond right away, waiting until after he reached out for something that looked kind of like a spoon held over a flame. He pulled it from its holder and emptied some of its contents onto the envelope. She realized it was wax when he then reached for a stamp and pushed it into the dark red goo.

"I'm winding down now...you may have a seat." He said, and gestured for her to take a chair sitting quietly off to the side. She pulled it up a couple of feet so she was next to the desk.

She sat on the edge of her seat, with her head lowered as she stared at her twiddling thumbs. She felt like she was waiting to be scolded in the principle's office. Why did this feel so awkward? After a minute of continued silence, she started looking anxiously around the room, trying hard not to let her eyes fall on him.

"You've been out for quite some time, are you hungry?" He asked. She lowered her eyes and brought a hand up to her stomach.

"Umm, yes, actually." She answered. He rose a hand and snapped his fingers. Sarah waited, expecting a plate or something to spontaneously appear, but nothing happened.

"I'm surprised you came to find me, I thought you would have simply retired for the night." He mumbled, distractedly. She couldn't tell if he was really trying to start a conversation, or was just trying to put a gap in the silence. She heard the door open then, and turned her head back as she spoke,

"Yea well...I kind of have to, or else I won't eat." She said, using the excuse he'd just given her. A Goblin had entered the room, carrying a dining tray.

"Here then, take this." He said. She turned her head back around to see him placing a small bell on the desk between them. She narrowed her eyes and cocked her head, curious as to where that had just come from.

"What is it?" She asked, reaching over the table and clasping it by the handle. Her peripherals told her that the Goblin was now standing off to her right, waiting. Jareth still wouldn't look up.

"If you're ever hungry when I'm not available, you can ring that and the Goblins will bring you something." He explained. Her eyes traveled with his hand as he picked up the now sealed letter, moved it off to the side and tapped it against something. She narrowed her eyes. Set off to the side was a crystal. But this seemed different than the one's Jareth conjured. It was bigger, and imprisoned in a metal stand. She watched as he tapped it against the shinning orb, and gaped as it then disappeared. What the? He paid no mind, and moved on to reach for the next piece of parchment.

"Oh...thank you." She answered, quietly.

"Yes...now you'll have to come up with a different excuse the next time you want to see me." He said, sarcastically. She wanted to glare at him, but his face remained completely impassive. It wasn't like he was making fun of her, he was serious. She didn't know how to take that. The more he talked, the more apparent it became that he was still irritated from earlier. While she thought, she didn't notice him lean over to clear a corner of the desk. Once it was free of pen and paper, the Goblin was free to set the tray down in front of her. She turned to say thank you, but the creature was quick to scurry away. She frowned before turning her attention down to the covered tray. She rose a hand to lift the lid, but paused when Jareth spoke up again. "Think of what you want before you open it." She curled her fingers back, taking the time to think, and then re-proceeded to open the lid.

She set the lid off to the side, and couldn't help but lick her lips as the rich aroma of Lahna's home cooked chicken and *something-er-other* swirled around her nose. Her warm and fuzzy feeling didn't last long however, crudely disrupted by the uncanny feeling that someone was staring blatantly at her. She put her encroaching smile on pause, and surreptitiously flickered her eyes up.

Jareth had actually stopped writing altogether. He was staring at her now, with an expression both bewildered and concerned. She gaped back a bit, feeling suddenly put on the spot. His eyes were more intense than she'd expected, or maybe it was just the small flare of shock that stemmed from the fact that this was the first time he'd looked at her since that morning. Her mouth gaped open a bit, feeling an uncomfortable urge to explain herself.

"The Goblins...wanted to make me dinner. I thought it was really good, so..." She trailed off, smiling awkwardly and trying not to let her eyes meet with his.

"And you're still hungry?" He asked, blandly. Sarah shrugged.

"I have a big appetite." She answered, deadlocking her eyes onto the dark wood of the desk top.

"Do you even know what that is?" He asked. Sarah gave in to look up then, sensing something incredulous in his voice.

"Um, no. I know there's chicken and potatoes in there somewhere...I thought it best not to ask." She said. Her eyes widened just a tad when he suddenly smiled and started shaking his head.

"A wise decision." He said, mockingly, and turned his gaze back down to his pen. She reached for her fork and dug in.

"So..." She spoke up, after a few minutes. "Did you catch up on most of your work?" She asked. She'd never utilized icebreakers as much as she was with Jareth.

"Not really, I was rather preoccupied." He answered. Sarah's eyes flickered down to whatever he was writing. She tried, but couldn't read what it said. Aside from being upside down and in Jareth's curvaceous penmanship, she was certain it was in a completely different language. She started to daze off at the flow of the ink as it moved across the page. It was then that she realized Jareth was left handed. Hm...

"With what?" She heard herself ask, but wasn't conscious to it. If he was preoccupied with something more important than work, than what was it?

"Watching you."

Sarah swallowed another forkful before narrowing her eyes on him.

"Ah, yes, about that. You failed to tell me you were having me tailed by guards and who knows what else all day. So much for trusting me." She bit out, distastefully. His hand moved in a flash as he scribbled his name before setting his pen down and turning his gaze directly at her.

"It has nothing to do with trust." He said. She expected to hear some kind of irritation in his voice, but there wasn't. "You went off, alone, into the city blind as to what you could have been really walking into. You are the Queen, and regardless that this is your kingdom, that makes you a target. Believe it or not, not all of my subjects are the caring, whole-hearted beings you believe them to be. You aren't Fae, you don't have magic, and with the Labyrinth being in the condition that it was, I wasn't about to send you out without some form of protection." He was glaring a little by the end of his sentence. Sarah bit back her tongue, he was right in his own sense.

"I'm not Queen yet." She interjected, as if title actually made a difference.

"You are to me. And only one formality away from being that to everyone else. And regardless of title, the dangers are still the same. Would you have preferred to endure the walk back in the dead of night, alone? Or would you have rather had a battalion of guards circling you where ever you went?" He added. Sarah sunk down in her seat a bit, this was definitely like being scolded in the principle's office. "Protecting you has nothing to do with not trusting you."

"And watching me had nothing to do with the inkling that I would try to run away or something?"

"That was always a possibility, hence why I kept an eye on you, to see how you acted without my presence. I wanted to be ready in case the moment called for damage control." He said. Sarah scowled. _Ok, so he just admitted he didn't fully trust me._

"So you were setting me up, pretty much? And here I thought you were so against pointless turmoil. If you thought I might cause some kind of disaster then why did you bother letting me go out at all?" She asked, a little aggravated now.

"Because you're not a child, Sarah." His voice was suddenly louder, and even though he was no where close to yelling, it was intimidating enough to make her flinch back in her seat. "If I can't trust you enough to walk a couple of Goblins to their homes and back then why even bother marrying you?" There was a hint of revolt in his voice that caught her off guard. Her mouth gaped open a bit, but she couldn't respond right away. "You may be full of petulance, but you are _no_t a child anymore, and I will not treat you as such. You're an adult about to ascend to a great deal of responsibility. Am I wrong to put faith in the thought that you would rise and accept those responsibilities with purity and resolution? That you would put your spite for me aside when it came to enacting on those responsibilities to assist in the wellbeing of those creatures whom you claim to care for so deeply? I've already given you my faith and my trust, if you wish to have to earn it instead, then I will treat you like the petulant child you're aiming to be." He snarled with firmly restrained anger.

Sarah just -stared- abashed and ready to cry. His words hurt her, really hurt her. She felt exposed and undignified. It was only after his words stuck her, like a punch to the face, that she realized he was completely right. She was behaving like a child, purposefully. She questioned the freedom he gave her, instead of assuming that the freedom was already hers. No matter what it was, she was always first to rule him out as the bad guy. He had ...faith, in her. Faith do to what was meant of her...and yet here she was throwing it back in his face. She understood...she understood how important it was that she fulfill her duty as Queen, but he was right when he'd questioned her desire to have to _earn_ his trust. She'd assumed those were the rules, that each new freedom was a battle that had to be won. But that wasn't the case, at least where matters of her rulership were concerned. She felt...ashamed for her brashness. She placed zero trust in him, and yet he seemed to be trusting her completely. It was a hard thought to swallow.

  



	16. The Eye Of The Storm part 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While unbeknown to her, Sarah has succeeded in obtaining the one thing the Goblin King has desired for hundreds of years -power over the Labyrinth. After being hidden for years from his diabolical wrath, Sarah finds herself alone and vulnerable as Jareth's dark desires are finally aloud to rear their ugly heads. As always, the only question is, are things really as they seem?

"I know how serious the responsibilities of being Queen are...I'm...I'm sorry." She murmured, watching him from behind her hair. He'd lowered his head again, scowling, his penmanship becoming more harsh with lingering aggravation.

"Hm, I think you may have actually meant that one." He said, sharp and sardonically. Sarah continued to frown, sinking lower and lower into herself.

"Thank you...for giving me a chance." She murmured, knotting her fingers 'til they turned white. There was a split second's pause in the movement of Jareth's hand.

"You're welcome."

They didn't say anymore after that. Sarah felt like she had graduated from the principle's office to time out, and actually wished he would send her to her room just so she could get away from all the awkwardness. She looked down to her food, feeling zero amount of desire to reach for her fork. Instead, she recovered it and left it be.

"Are you full?" Jareth asked. Sarah felt her shoulders tense.

"I'm done eating, if that's what you mean." She clarified. He snapped his fingers, and a few minutes later, a Goblin was back to take it away.

She sat in silence, watching the steady conveyer belt of Jareth's actions. He would write something, then seal it in an envelope, and tap it against the crystal where it then vanished. He repeated this process, over and over. She glanced over and spied the stack of blank papers he had yet to go through.

"Have you been doing this for long?" She asked, hoping to relieve some of the tension between them. He had just reached for another sheet of paper when she spoke, and paused with his hand mid-air.

"A few hours." He said, and immersed back into his rhythm.

"And you still have all those to do?" She asked. There was a flash of a smirk on Jareth's face.

"Why Sarah, that isn't concern I hear in your voice, is it?" He asked, a little mockingly. Sarah drew her brow, trying to ignore his goading.

"It just seems very tedious, is all.." She murmured. He didn't respond, so she picked back up. "Can I ask what it is you're doing?" She asked.

"You can, but I doubt you actually want to know." He answered. Sarah pursed her lips at him, but after a moment, he started speaking again. "I'm sending out invitations." He said. He didn't have to explain to what. Sarah's brow drew tighter.

"To the wedding.."

"Yes." She pause for a moment, looking from Jareth, to the strange crystal and back again.

"That crystal..how does it work?" She asked.

"It sends the letter to its destination." He answered, plain and simple. Hmm. Her eyes lingered on the crystal a while longer, examining its stand and wondering if it were always there. A small idea flared in the back of her mind. If the crystal was always there...then maybe she could write a letter to her friends...

"And you have to write them all by hand? You can't just use your magic to do it?" She asked, taking her attention away from the crystal and all its promises.

"Such an intimate event requires an intimate connection to all those who partake. So, yes, they do have to be hand written, forging them otherwise would be disrespectful." He explained. Sarah found herself nodding as if she understood.

"And you have to do them all yourself? You can't have one of your advisors or something do it for you?"

"Normally, I would. But, the -_adviso_r- of which you speak is away at the moment."

"I thought you had a bunch of advisors?" She asked.

"I do."

"So the one who's job it is to write letters just happens to be away?" She asked, curiously. Her eyes caught on the stamp he used to seal the envelopes. It was the same symbol as the pendant he wore around his neck.

"No, the one whom I trust enough to handle royal documents is." He clarified. Sarah only grew more puzzled.

"So...is he special or something? Like...top ranked secretary?" She asked. Jareth smiled, and she caught the sound of a small laugh that he tried to hide.

"I wouldn't call him that." He said, now amused. She felt a tension leaving her shoulders, glad that he was no longer angry with her.

"So...where is he?" She asked.

"Dealing with some matters up north." Oh, that perked Sarah's attention.

"You mean the Northern Kingdom?" She asked. Jareth peered up at her. "I uhh, I asked the Goblins a little bit about the kingdom."

"Like?"

"Well...like where the Sulu district was...how many cities were in the kingdom." Her voice kind of trailed off in the end.

"If you have any questions about anything, Sarah, you only have to ask." He said. Sarah frowned, calling back on her earlier thought that they'd been fighting so much they never actually got a chance to just sit down and talk. But, that's what they were doing now, wasn't it? It wasn't so bad...

"Sulu's not located in the Goblin city, is it?" She quirked.

"No. That area is located on the border between here and Erastor in the east. It's very far away from us."

"How many districts are there?" She asked.

"Around eight hundred." Her brow shot up at that.

"What? Holy crap." She called out, louder than intended.

"They vary in size."

"And then there's the...Barrens?"

"Yes."

"I don't understand, is that like the countryside? The Goblins didn't seem to understand what I was talking about."

"The Barrens is an open stretch of plains. The soil is rather infertile. The only thing that really grows is grass, hence the name. The reason the Goblins didn't know much is probably because most life in my kingdom reside in cities, and few ever attempt to leave. Only rogues and caravans inhabit the Barrens." Sarah continued to stare blankly at the movements of his hand as he talked. She enjoyed learning about the Underground, and found their topic of conversation to be the least stressful one they'd ever had.

"And the Northern Kingdom? What is that exactly?"

"The part of my kingdom located in the north." Jareth answered. She rolled her eyes at his answer, everyone was so literal here.

"Never mind-" She said, a little exasperated. Jareth looked up to her then. "So, this special advisor of yours, does he have a name? And what makes him so trustworthy? Is he a Fae like you?" She asked, changing the subject. Jareth blinked as he tried to discern her reaction.

"Why so interested?" He asked, implying something mischievous. She huffed and rolled her eyes.

"I'm not. Forgive me for trying to engage in peaceful conversation." She snapped, condescendingly. Jareth's small smile faded.

"His name is Roldan. And yes, he is of my race. I would never let a Goblin anywhere near royal documents." He said.

"That's understandable..." She mumbled, starting to glance absently around the room. "And he's in the Northern Kingdom? One of the Goblins I'd talked to told me no one goes there, that's it's too far away...and you said there's over eight hundred districts? This place must be huge." She said. Jareth peered up at her while she wasn't looking, wondering if she was purposefully trying to navigate the conversation away from conflict, it was very un-like her.

"On the contrary, I haven't given you any measurement or milage of said space. For all you know, each district could be no more than twenty square feet." Sarah tilted her head, just another reminder not to take anything for granted.

"Hmm..." She hummed as she thought. Jareth put his pen down to look up at her.

"There are many books in this library, you know; and I know for a fact that there are plenty on the geography of both my kingdom and the lands surrounding -if you're interested." He suggested. Sarah looked up at the bit of hope she heard in his voice, hope that she might actually reach out and accept something of him.

"I would like that." She said, her voice perking up a bit from her scolding. Jareth seemed to perk up as well, actually giving her a small, almost ghostly smirk as their gazes held one another's.

"So," He started, turning his attentions back to the task at hand, "aside from all the dust and beggars, how did you enjoy your day in the city?" He asked. Sarah's brow softened, feeling victorious in successfully averting one of the Goblins King's foul moods.

"It...was exciting." She said, and couldn't stop the smile from spreading across her face. "There's so much going on. And the Goblins are all so carefree. I admire them and the happiness they find in the most meager circumstances." She said, her voice gaining more and more fervor as she spoke. "Some of them happen to be very smart as well...say, on the topic of books, you wouldn't happen to have anything on Goblin folklore or religion, would you?" She asked, her mind on a clear ramble. Jareth looked up, confused.

"Why would you be interested in that?" He asked. Sarah shifted around in her seat.

"Well...it was just something one of the Goblins said."

"About what?" She met his eyes briefly at the serious note his voice was beginning to take.

"Just something about the..._Spirit of the Labyrinth_?" She asked, wincing as though unsure of herself. Jareth visibly tensed.

"What did they tell you?" He asked, dark warning was thick and tangible in his voice, but she didn't register it right away.

"Well, I asked about what might have caused the wall to fall...and we got to talking about how the wall was fixed...she told me a story about something called the Spirit of the Labyrinth. I was just wondering if it was just an old wive's tale...or if it was..true." She said, with a casual wave of the hand, completely oblivious to Jareth's darkening demeanor.

"What was the story?" He asked. Sarah shifted, bringing attention to the rose she still held in the pocket of her shirt. It was loose and baggy, so she wasn't worried about it getting crushed.

"That gold roses mark the spot where the Labyrinth has healed itself...kind of like a scar I guess. There were vines outside, growing on the wall, and they had golden roses growing from them. It just got me wondering...if Goblins had fairytales just like people do, or if it was something more." She looked up to find Jareth watching her intently, and widened her eyes a bit.

"Faith in existence is only as tangible as how strongly you urge something to exist." He said. Sarah blinked a few times, not sure on how to go about processing his words. He had moments like this, where he would sound so old and wise. She didn't quite know what he meant.

"Excuse me?" She asked.

"Everything that exists, has imagined itself into existence." ...Ok, what?

"How does that?- How does that make any sense?"

"How do you think magic works, Sarah? You have to believe in it, for it to work. You have to put faith in the impossible before it can become possible."

"So what does that have to do with gold roses?" She asked.

"Whether or not something exists as we see it, given enough faith, can exist as someone else sees it. Given no reason to the contrary, why should something be deemed fiction over fact when it is at its core irrelevent?" He tried to explain. Deep down, he was only grateful that that was the crux of her intel about the Labyrinth. If he could confuse her while educate her, it should make her content enough to move on from the subject.

"So...what you're saying is that it doesn't matter whether or not something is real...because as long as someone believes it's real, that is enough reason to make it real, to imagine it into existence?" She asked, with a squiggled brow. Jareth cracked a smirk at her expense.

"Generally." He watched as she pursed her lips, deep in thought over the matter. His smile broadened -success. He'd managed to divert her from thoughts over the spirit of the Labyrinth to something more general and philosophical. His job wasn't over though, he made a mental note to find whatever Goblin had been educated enough to tell Sarah all that. It wouldn't be good if she gained information from someone other than him.

"Do you know why the wall fell?" She asked.

"Yes."

"Could you tell me why?"

"I could."

"Will you?"

"No."

Alright, this was getting irritating really fast.

"Why?" She asked, sharply.

"Because it's none of your concern."

"Is there a reason why it's none of my concern?"

"Because it was an issue dealt with by the King. And it has been dealt with, there's no reason to dwell on it." She kept quiet at that. He seemed to carry that sentiment over into more than just punishing her. She looked down, fiddling with the flower in her pocket, and wondering what could have happened that would keep Jareth from telling her...

"Sarah?" He quirked up, drawing her from her contemplations. "About the roses, you didn't pick one, did you?" He asked. Sarah tilted her head and scrunched her brow, distracted and thoroughly pulled from the moment.

"I thought you were watching me?" She countered.

"Not every passing second."

"Uhhmm, yea, I did pick one, why?" She asked. Jareth placed his pen down on the desk and brushed his papers off to the side, leaning over a bit as he asked,

"Could I please see it for a moment?" He asked, oh-so-nicely. Sarah stared him down, remembering yesterday's confrontation about him seeing her picture. She'd gotten out of hand then, this was a chance to rectify that.

She glanced down, rummaging through the folds of her shirt as she searched for the opening. She pulled it out, pleased it was still intact as she had hoped, and passed it to Jareth. She wasn't sure if he felt the same way as she did, but she found herself holding her breath as she waited for what he would do next.

Jareth took the glittering flower from Sarah's hold, visually examining it in front of her. She didn't know, but this was more than just a flower, it was a remnant of Liana's magic, and therefore a part of her. He wasn't sure, but it could hold some influence over her if exposed long enough. He thought about destroying it then and there, but got another -better- idea just in time.

He took the flower in both hands, and made a sphere around it. Sarah watched eagerly and concerned from over the desk as he started churning his hands around it. When he let go, the glinting golden rose was encased in a perfect crystal, frozen for all of time. He rolled the ball along his fingers as he finalized his handiwork. There, she could keep it now, as whatever bit of Liana's magic was now locked inside behind Jareth's.

"You shouldn't go near unknown foliage, it could be dangerous." He said. Sarah's eyes widened, and she leaned over the desk suddenly.

"Why? Is it poisonous?" She called out, worriedly. Jareth looked at her strangely. He rose an implying eyebrow at her, urging her to explain. Sarah darted her eyes around the room. "I-I cut myself on the thorns when I picked it. It's not poisonous or anything, is it?" She asked, just a tiny bit frantic. Jareth's whole brow rose slightly at her display of panic, panic that was not directed at him. He found it cute.

"Let me see." He said. She didn't hesitate to offer him her hand.

He held her by the wrist, and ran his thumb over the tiny scratches.

"You'll be fine." He said. She pulled her hand back to find her scratches gone. "Here." He added, offering the crystal back to her.

Sarah reached out with both hands, taking careful hold of the crystal as Jareth plopped it in her palms. Her expression was awed as she brought it close to her face, turning it from side to side. She was completely marveled, her flower looked even more beautiful frozen, like an amber fossil. As she scanned her eyes over every petal, she joyed at the thought of it never damaging, or wilting. Yes, she like this new version even better. She lowered her hands into her lap, and tried to hide the small smile on her face.

"Thank you." She whispered, sounding embarrassed to actually be happy about something Jareth had done.

"You're welcome."

She sat, and tapped her fingers mindlessly against the orb in her lap. This was actually turning out to be rather...decent. As she thought over the course of their night, she hoped he would be swamped with work more often.

"When is the wedding?"

Jareth arched a brow.

"You want to talk about our wedding?" He asked, incredulous. Sarah darted her eyes off to the side and back to him.

"Well...I'd at least like to know when it is...so I can brace myself." She tried not to wince at the thought.

"In a few weeks." He answered, plainly, and went back to scribbling his name. Sarah perked up at that.

"A few weeks? I thought it would have been sooner..." She hadn't really meant to voice that last part, but it just kind of came out. Jareth tried not to glare.

"Yes...I originally had it scheduled for a few days from now but...I think you need more time to adjust before all that." He said. Sarah stared at him, wordlessly urging him to continue. "Aside from warming up to me, you have a lot to learn before you can assimilate into the role of being my Queen." He further stated. Sarah furrowed her brow. "Using our previous conversation as an example, you need to learn what exactly it is you're going to rule over. You need to learn the laws that govern this land, both formal and social, and you need to learn the laws that govern other lands. And, equally important, you need to learn proper etiquette befitting your position."

"Etiquette?" She asked.

"Yes. You will be expected to act a certain way among others, both subjects and peers. While I give you reign on how to conduct yourself in private, there will be no exception on how you act in public." He smirked, feeling her glare growing.

"And how exactly am I supposed to act?" She asked.

"We'll jump that hurdle when we come to it." He said, making an overly obvious joke about Sarah's athletic experience. She scrunched her nose at him. She hated being told how to act, what was proper and that she wasn't good enough. Urg, she could feel that heated disaster coming a mile away.

"I know what you're thinking, and that's my very point. You need more time to be better attuned before you take over any real responsibility." He said. Sarah huffed at his reasoning, but was secretly glad she now had an extension, a little while longer to hold off the inevitable.

"Well, thanks, I guess." She grumbled, realizing that she was thanking Jareth for an awful lot tonight.

"Don't sound so glum, one might think you weren't completely ecstatic to be holding onto that pride of yours for just a little while longer." He said, though his voice wasn't as snarky as his words implied. She frowned, not wanting to be reminded that come their wedding day, she would no longer have any say over her own body. She really hoped Jareth wouldn't live up to his threats. _He said he wouldn't rape me...but he thinks that being his wife will grant him automatic consent... _She looked off to the side, clutching her crystal a little tighter. She'd had such a good day, she didn't want it to end on a thought like that.

"When can I go back to my room?" She asked.

"You may leave whenever you wish." Her head popped up to him, but he only gave her an eye in return. "I didn't summon you here. You came to me of your own accord, so you may leave whenever you so choose." He said. She blinked at him from across the desk, just now remembering her _freedom_ and realizing that she was indeed the one that kept herself there. It was her intent just to check in, and yet it'd been almost two hours that she was sitting there with him. She stood from her chair, awkwardly.

"Ok, well, goodnight then." She said, and quickly stepped over to the door. She touched the handle, and looked back over her shoulder. Jareth's attentions were once again on his stack of papers, oblivious to her leaving. She gripped the handle a little harder, and frowned, looking away from him sharply. She felt, odd, and realized she'd been feeling this way all along. It was only now that she was able to put a name to what she was feeling -hurt. She realized then, that the reason she felt so hurt, so out of place, the reason she wanted Jareth to talk to her so badly; it was because...because she _wanted_ his attention. She wanted his eyes and his focus on her, only her. After days of being the center of his attention, now, seeing him completely content with or without her, she just felt...empty. It was wrong, and just the thought of it made her angry, but it was true. She wanted his attention. That was why she tried picking fights with him, that was why she'd tried demonizing him every chance she got, so that he would focus on her. She felt disgusted, disgusted with herself for feeling this way, but that was the only way she could describe it. She'd told herself earlier that he was her anchor, grounding her to this world, whether it be from anger or any other emotion, she needed that sense of gravity. She needed it from him.

Her hand fell from the door, as she slowly turned back around. She counted to ten, waiting until Jareth inevitably looked up to her from across the room.

"I...I don't really want to be alone. Would it be ok if I just...stayed in here and read?" She asked, hesitantly.

"You don't need my permission." He answered, and turned back to his work.

Sarah lowered her head. Ok, so she hadn't gotten much more of his attention, but maybe being in the same room as someone else would help all the same. She walked over to a random book shelf, not even looking as she pulled out a binding, and made her way to sit in a chair beside the fire.

She curled her knees up to her chest as she flipped through the pages, but she wasn't looking. It was dead quiet, with nothing but the low crackle of the fire to fill the void. She spied on Jareth from over her book. He was across the room, and was hidden mostly in shadow and dim candle light, but she could see him well enough. Things seemed different today. _He_seemed different today. Was she going crazy or was he actually acting like a -decent, tolerable, normal person? Maybe it was just the lack of sexual assault and temptation that brought about this change in view. Her mental image of Jareth was becoming harder and harder to maintain. He brought a new level to the meaning of mercurial, saying the least. Yesterday he was so vicious, she was actually cowering before him. And now, she felt...content. She wanted to talk to him. Was it all him? Or was something about her changing as well?

She narrowed her eyes as she watched him, looking so reserved and professional. For a moment, she allowed herself to admit how handsome he was, how elegant the contours of his face looked against the soft highlight of the candle fire. For a moment, she allowed herself to think of a lot of different things. But, in the end, he was still Jareth. He was still cruel and manipulative and hurtful. It didn't matter how many subtleties of kindness he had, if they never measured up to a single majority of depravity. She looked away, and flipped back to the first page of her book. _Botany of the Underground, Chapter 1..._

* * *

Jareth looked up from his desk with a small sigh. He'd just sent out the last letter, and was finally starting to feel the brunt of his exhaustion. He'd been up all night. After his skirmish with Liana, he'd had to deal with the Goblins and trying to catch up on work. He hadn't slept or rested since the night before last. He leaned back in his chair and stretched, glancing up at a nearby clock, he saw it was a little past 2:30 in the morning. He sighed again, and bent forward as if to stand.

He paused in his movement, his eyes catching on Sarah's curled up form as she lay passed out in a chair. Truth be told, he'd forgotten she was still there, but was glad that she had chosen to stay. He rose from his desk and rounded the corner as he made his way to her. As he observed her image growing larger with each step, he couldn't help but wonder what had sparked her change in demeanor. She had actually wanted to talk with him, to be in his company. If he hadn't been so preoccupied, he would have exploited that fact a little more thoroughly.

He stood before her, and knelt down to pull the open book from her hand, and set it down on a nearby coffee table. She had her knees pulled up to her chest, and her arms hugged tight around them, clutching her crystal. He reached up, and brushed away the hair from her face. He loved watching her sleep, it came with a certain kind of danger, like wallowing into a lion's den. He remembered thinking that very same thought the first night he approached her, and smiled at how unexpected and -invigorating it was having her turn the tables on him in her dream. He wondered if, once she regained her footing, she would return to the clever, fiery spirit she was that night.

She murmured something in her sleep and shifted a little tighter into herself. It reminded him of just how tired he was as well. He stood, and wrapped his arms underneath her, cradling her as he picked her up. She didn't stir.

He turned and made the journey back to her room, marveling at how she felt like a feather in his arms. He felt himself sag a little as the last bit of tension left his shoulders. He knew he'd been rather brisk with her today, and he hadn't directly intended to do so. But, after making several realizations about Liana, combined with his lack of sleep and general frustration, he couldn't help but take some of it out on her. With that said, he couldn't believe how well the night had progressed. She hadn't screamed, hadn't cried once because of him. He didn't threaten or hurt her. And what was even more uplifting, was that given the opportunity, she hadn't run away. He was cautious about how much intel she was acquiring about the Labyrinth, but he also thought that if he told her enough to satisfy her, she wouldn't go digging for deeper answers, or so he hoped.

He looked down as he carried her through the hall, and smirked when he saw how tightly she was gripping her crystal. He turned his smile inward to himself, pleased with his decision not to simply take it away from her. It seemed to make her happy, and it was because of him. Score one to team Jareth.

He was careful when opening the door to her room, and treated her like she were made of glass as he laid her on the bed. He stood, looking over her and her dust-covered attire and realized that wouldn't do. He bent down, and pressed two of his fingers to her forehead, ensuring that she wouldn't wake and moved to sit on the edge of the bed.

He started with her boots and socks first, shaking his head at her stubbornness. He didn't want to think about the day he told her she had to start wearing corsets and skirts. He then scooted up, and untucked the hem of her shirt from her pants. He imagined how she would react if she knew what he was doing, but he wasn't such a fiend as to molest her in her sleep. What would be the point? No, he much preferred her conscious and responsive.

He slid her leggings down and off of her. Her shirt had conveniently fallen to cover over the tops of her thighs. He tilted his head as his hand just barely grazed along her pale skin, now glowing in the moonlight. She really was beautiful while she was sleeping. He pressed his hand flat against her thigh, but it wasn't sexual. He sighed, exhausted by the prospect she was proving to be. He thought he would win her over easy, her dreams spoke for themselves. It was her pesky pride that was slowing everything down...

He took his hand from her, and began pulling her shirt up and over her head. Her body was limp and languid in his arms, he was actually finding it a little difficult to handle her, having to support her neck with one hand while he finished removing the last of her shirt with the other. He laid her back on the bed, her dark brown hair creating a frame around her. Why couldn't she be this serene when she was awake?

His eyes roamed down and around every curve he saw, feeling a slow burn that came with his longing to touch her. Before he could get too distracted, he turned away, and stalked over to her dresser, depositing her crystal on the vanity before fishing out one of her night gowns. He walked back to the bed, and repeated the same process of removing her shirt, only in reverse as he now dressed her. He then wrapped a hand behind her neck and lifted her up, reaching behind with his free hand as he unclasped and removed her bra. He still didn't really understand them, he found corsets much more entertaining. They left more to the imagination and required more skill to dismantle. But, Sarah's Aboveground-esque wardrobe was just another attempt at making her feel more accommodated. A part of him wondered why he waited to take her bra off, why he hadn't just removed it when initially disrobing her. He drew his brow, and rationalized that when he saw her, he wanted her to be just as aware of the experience as he was.

He laid her back down on the bed once more, and covered her with the duvet.

He knew he should have left then. He knew it was time to go, but for some reason, his feet wouldn't respond. He knelt down on the floor so he was face to face with her and ran his hand down the side of her face, removing the sleep ward. He stared at her for a moment, wondering how in the world he could ever make her fall in love with him, how in the world he could manipulate her into submission. His mind drew a blank, seeing nothing but a stretch of time as the answer. But that wasn't an answer. He didn't want to wait. He needed her submission, he needed her to give in. Only then would he be able to claim his power from her. There were two ways to gain control over the Labyrinth, one involved taking it by force, and the other involved it being given freely. He needed Sarah to give it to him. That was the only option, because he couldn't-he wouldn't take it from her. But she couldn't know, or she would rise against him. No, he needed to keep her blind. He needed her to give in, to submit -body, mind, and soul. He needed her love.

She sighed in her sleep, drawing Jareth from his dark daze. Being manipulative was proving harder now that he actually had her in his arms -or..clutches. He couldn't keep his head when she was near, she was just too God damned infuriating. He let out a sigh that matched hers, and cupped the side of her face as he leaned in closer, and placed a soft -almost nonexistent- kiss on the crown of her forehead.

  



	17. Hope And It's Other Like-Forms part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While unbeknown to her, Sarah has succeeded in obtaining the one thing the Goblin King has desired for hundreds of years -power over the Labyrinth. After being hidden for years from his diabolical wrath, Sarah finds herself alone and vulnerable as Jareth's dark desires are finally aloud to rear their ugly heads. As always, the only question is, are things really as they seem?

Chapter 9, Hope And It's Other Like-forms

Sarah rolled onto her side and began to stir. She gave a groggy smile through the clearing haze, as she ventured out from the dark depths of slumber. She felt something warm press against her back, sending a humming tingle straight to her toes. She drew her shoulder up to her cheek as she squirmed beneath the blanket, and continued to squirm as the feeling traveled up her spine to the base of her neck. She turned her head then, slowly rolling over to confront this strange sensation. The soft heat made a ring around her shoulder and lazily meandered onto her collarbone. Her smile broadened, and she fluttered her eyes open just in time to watch herself raise her chin as Jareth lowered his lips down to hers.

She felt the same warm pressure against her lips, and felt the same strange sparks coursing through her. She murmured unconscious appraisal into his lips and closed her eyes once more, welcoming him. He leaned over her, and wrapped an arm under her shoulders as he pulled her closer. Her arms found their way around his back, as she opened herself to him.

He sucked on her lower lip, slowly and deliberately, and rolled his tongue along hers in a wet and sensual caress. He moved to lay on top of her, and gently reciprocated the waving movement of Sarah's body as it pushed and pulled against his. She felt the heavy pressure of his body against hers, felt the warmth that radiated from him, and unwittingly pushed her pelvis up to grind against his. He made a low sound in the back of his throat, but refused to let go of her lips. The moment seemed to drag on and on, caught in a deadlock of light touch and firmly restrained brutality as Sarah floated on the cusp of consciousness. He began to press against her more firmly, more deliberately, and something in the air began to shift.

She pulled away and drew in a breath.

"Jareth? What-" She started to say, before his mouth took hold of hers once more. She pulled away again. "What...are you doing here?" Her voice was light and breathy, floating with confusion. He didn't answer, merely moving down to kiss along the artery already pulsing wildly in her neck. She tightened her grip around his shoulders. "Jareth- what's going on? Why are you in my bed?" She asked. Her eyes started to trail about the room, but couldn't focus. All she saw was shadow and dim light.

"Because you want me here." His response was low, and vibrated through her already heated flesh. His hands moved down to encompass her hips, and slowly trailed up, conforming to the curves of her waist.

"Wha-no? I...no, I don't." She said, very uncertainly, and began pushing against him with barely enough strength to say so. Something seemed amiss, but she couldn't put her finger on it. He took his hands from her waist and brought them to her face. One hand held her cheek, while the other stroked stray hairs from her face. He rose his head, their eyes meeting a mere inch from one another.

"Yes, you do." His voice was soft, caressing her more sweetly than the light touch of his fingertips against her temple. She drew her brow, and tried to stare hard into his eyes. There was a strange sense of empathy in his voice, of compassion even; like a mutual understanding was passing between them that she was both aware of and unaware of all at once, and it became tangible, through the connection of their eyes. The more intense it became, the more it grew, the more it turned into something else. This understanding, this connection, it spurned an aberrance and suspicion that was slowly frolicking to the forefront of her mind. Her confused expression hardened into a scowl, but was not allowed to voice itself as Jareth's hand secured itself to her jaw, momentarily snuffing out her concern by claiming her lips once again.

There was a hesitancy to her response, but a response she gave all the same. In the process of sitting up, her shoulders began to relax and she settled back into the bed. She even closed her eyes, succumbing to the spell that was Jareth's kiss. And as he pried open her mouth with no effort at all, a small flare went off somewhere within the dark and murky depths of Sarah's subconscious. She opened her eyes and pushed against him.

"No-" Her muffled voice proclaimed. She winced and turned her head away, her hands turning into fists as she pushed up against his chest. He enveloped her fists with his hands, and held them against him. She opened her eyes and peered up, surprised with the delicateness of his force.

"Why?" He asked. Sarah stared at him for a moment, not quite able to grasped the simplicity of his question.

"Because...because..." She started to say. And as the words stumbled over themselves, Sarah's mind came into crisper view. She narrowed her eyes, gazing up suspiciously at the hazy and angelic image of the man looming over her. "What's going on? How- how did- This... No, no. This... this must be a dream." She murmured to herself, slowly shaking her head from side to side. There was no way this was happening. How did she even get here? Why was Jareth being so...she couldn't even come up with a word for it. "This is a dream. ...?" She said, staring him straight in the eye. Jareth looked...disconcerted, maybe even a little sad. He scrunched his brow in a kind of pouting expression that didn't sit well on his face.

"If this is a dream, then why does it matter?" He countered. Sarah's eyes darted around the room, which still refused to come into focus.

"I - I don't want to do this." She said, uncertainly, and tried pulling her arms free. Jareth conceded her movement only enough so that he could re-pin her hands to the bed on either side of her face.

"You do, or we wouldn't be." He said, and kissed her again. For the third time, Sarah watched herself give in, to join the flow that passed between them through the connection of the mouths. But there was something else looming in those waters. She could feel it, the ease, the pleasure, the mindless submission - no. She pulled away, and fought harder to free herself of his hold.

"No. Stop. I don't want this." She whimpered, tossing her head away from him. Jareth released her hands, and caressed down her neck.

"Why do you always insist on fighting? If this is your dream, then what does it matter?" He asked. Sarah gave an exasperated sigh. He was right, if this was a dream then why shouldn't she enjoy? If only it were that simple.

"What matters is whether or not you are Dream Jareth, or Real Jareth." She stated, but the question was obviously implied.

"Why does that matter?" He asked, but she refused to answer. "You would concede if I were a figment of your imagination, but not if I were the real person whom you are fantasizing about?" He continued, his tone implied the absurdity of that train of thought. He lowered his head to nip along her sternum.

"Yes." She answered, gruffly, and tried pushing him by the shoulders. Jareth reared back a bit, his body consuming her view plane. He rested on his hands, which were planted on either side of her shoulders, caging her in. She kept her hands pressed against his shoulders as she waited for his next move.

"Do you truly not desire me so?" He asked, with both sincerity and disbelief. Her eyes couldn't help but widen at the bleakness that laced his voice.

"If you're a dream, then this is all harmless. But, if it's really you, if you're invading my psyche, then this needs to stop. Now." She said.

"You're making this more complicated than it need be, love." He said, into her skin. She tried to fight the shiver as the echo of his pet name radiated through her chest.

"No...this isn't complicated. What's complicated is what will happen when I wake up. Hence my question: are you Dream Jareth, or Real Jareth?" She asked, while trying to squirm out from under him -an action resulting in total failure.

"It doesn't matter." He mumbled, and ground his hips hard into hers. His movement caused her to shift up the bed a few inches, and the sharp, twisting feeling that came with his contact caused her mouth to drop open. Her fingers dug a little deeper into his shoulder.

"Yes- it does."

"Sarah-" Jareth interjected, taking hold of her hands and commanding her attention as he forcefully pinned them to her sides. "Whether I am imaginary or not, this is your dream. And since this is your dream, everything I do will be what you want me to do. You can fuss and complain all you want, but you forget, figment or not, I am in your head too. You can not lie when you are here. You know what you want, just as well as I. So, it makes no difference whether or not I am material." He said. Sarah opened her mouth wider, about to protest, and huffed up her chest a bit in equal preparation.

"If I say I don't want you then I don't want you, and should you not obey my wishes it would mean that you are in fact Real Jareth, and as such this will go no further." If she could have stomped her foot, she would have. She looked away from him sharply, trying to focus on her anger and his arrogance as she fought out of his grasp. He entertained her folly for a moment or two, before a dark and haunting smile crawled across his face. He tightened his grip around her arms immensely, and pressed the full weight of his body flush against hers in an effortless attempt to subdue the minor thrashing. He then rose her hands above her head to hold in one of his own so he could take her jaw with the other and make her face him.

"I disagree." His voice seemed to rumble with a salaciously primal hiss and growl in the background. She pursed her lips and tried to jerk her head away. "You say you don't want me? I think you do, Sarah mine. What you don't want, is to admit it." He bit out the last T with predatory arrogance. Sarah narrowed her eyes and glared. Oh yeah, this was definitely Real Jareth.

In a sudden movement, he let go of her hands and jerked apart her legs. Like a green light, she instantly started pushing against him, but he was quick and determined, and had already nestled himself right where he needed to be before she had any chance at staving him off. He kept his hands spread around the base of her thighs, reveling in her petty punches and light grunts as she let loose her frustrations.

"Don't worry, I think there is a way in which we may come to a happy medium." He said, and languidly glided himself inside her.

Sarah took in a deep breath, filling her lungs in order to counteract the overwhelming fullness of down below. She kept her mouth clenched tight, and stared hard into the hallow of Jareth's neck. He pulled out, and thrust back in, a little harder this time.

He then gently took told of her hands and pinned them, for about the fifth time now, to the bed, and brought his face close enough to hers so that she couldn't help but catch his gaze.

"You want to pretend not to want this? Fine. Let's pretend." His voice was crisper, darker than before. He finished his sentence by thrusting into her hard, sheathing himself up to the hilt, rolling his hips and then doing it all over again, and let out a low and airy moan.

Sarah coughed from the abrupt force of Jareth's thrust. Her hands flew from his limp hold and dug deep into his shoulder. He ignored her escape, and picked up his pace until it became ruthless, punishing almost. She gritted her teeth as she tried to brace herself.

"Jareth, STOP. Please-" She whined, and then whimpered when he laughed into the crook of her neck.

"Mmm, just like that.." His voice was low, weighed down by laden arrogance.

"Ugh, get off of me!" She shouted. Jareth turned his head and sucked on her neck with a hidden smile.

"You're so good at this." He hummed.

"Stop RAPING me!" She roared, irritated more than anything at this point.

"I think you would be more upset if I were raping you, dear." He answered, and tenderly kissed her cheek.

"Why are you doing this?" She asked. Jareth rose a hand and fisted it in her hair, jerking her head back until she was forced to stare him straight in the eye.

"Because you want me to." His echo hummed in the air around her. She glared at him, using the connection of their eyes as a distraction. Her gaze flickered over his face -his wide beaming eyes, the pale shine of his skin, the wretched curl of his sneer- and grew hotter and hotter with animosity.

"Fuck you." She snarled. His sneer stretched, and he lowered himself for a kiss. She responded with a bite.

"Such appropriate slander." Her face flushed anew and her nostrils flared violently.

"Get the fuck off of me, Jareth! If this is my dream then why won't you stop!" She started flailing as best she could, gaining more and more fervor the longer he laughed at her. Feeling her wriggling growing out of hand, he took hold of her arms and held them up in the air.

"Because you want to fight me. And I want to fuck you. This is our happy medium." He spoke sharp and level, firmly pressing her arms down to the bed as his words sank in.

Sarah was rather speechless. Was that really what was going on? That was the logic he was using to justify this? Even if it was just a dream? She jerked sharply against his grasp.

"You're twisted. Let go of me!" She shouted. Jareth responded by resuming his grind.

"Mmm, that's right. Fight me." He murmured, and churned his hands around her wrists, tightening until she winced. He lowered his head and bit raggedly along her clavicle. She tried to fidget away, but it was useless; he wasn't being gentle anymore. She felt her face grow hot with the sheer force with which he was thrusting into her, and felt her entire body glaze over from the sharp and hard pressure of pain that he inflicted onto her tender flesh. She continued to struggle, before slowly realizing that _tha_t was what he wanted... All the while, she fought to ignore the steady thump of her own despicable desire pulsing in the background.

Sarah was useless in the fight against Jareth's quickening onslaught. Her body wouldn't listen to her mind, and her mind itself was becoming more and more distant. Her mouth gaped open as she took in rough and heavy breaths, trying desperately to focus on _not_ succumbing to Jareth's sinful undulations. He wanted her to fight, and so she was trying her best to remain indifferent. She focused so hard on everything _not _Jareth, that everything around her started to fade. She didn't know how much time was going by, what Jareth was doing to her, what she was doing in response. All she knew at that moment was her breathing...

"See how compliant you are?" Jareth's voice rang clear as day through her haze. "_The moment_ I take control you stop fighting." He continued. Sarah peeped open her eyes, allowing herself to come back to the moment, to find herself utterly writhing beneath Jareth. Her arms, once fighting feverishly against him, lay languid and lifeless on either side of her face. Jareth's grip on them was just enough to support himself. She turned her head back to him, and inevitably locked herself in his gaze. "You want this, Sarah. You want me to control you, so that you have an excuse to lay back and enjoy it." He muttered, his own breathing coarse and ragged. Sarah drew in a deeper breath, causing her chest to rise and brush up against him.

She rolled her head back, and let out a breathy moan, a moan that soon turned into frustrated groan.

"No. I will not give in to you." She bit out, and looked back when Jareth started laughing. She drew her brow on this, suspiciously.

"Who said anything about giving in? It's called pleasure, Sarah. Pure, innocent, guilty, pleasure." He said, mockingly, and rolled them both so she sat astride him. "You want to control you, and you want me to control you. But there are two forms of control -submissive, and dominant. And you, my dear, want both." He said, with a wicked, dastardly grin. Sarah continued to look puzzled, almost forgetting that fact that he was still pressing heavily inside her. They were both sitting nose to nose, and as Jareth finished his sentence, he leaned back to lay on the bed -still holding her arms captive. "You want control? All you have to do is take it." He said, and released her hands.

Jareth's words seemed to echo through her mind, holding more impact than initially registered. She felt awkward for a moment, not quite sure what to do as she sat straddling Jareth. She kept her eyes locked with his, and examined the haughty expression on his face. This was a test, no, a challenge -another game. She would not lose.

"This is my dream." She gritted her teeth with the affirmation and leaned forward to rest her hands of Jareth's chest. "I control what happens." She muttered again, stronger this time.

Something powerful was starting to flow and sway within her then, a kind of deep realization that could only be fathomed within the lost depths of her subconscious; but that was where they were, and so while completely unobtainable, it was, in that moment, there and clear as day. If this was Dream Jareth, then everything he was saying was a reflection of her own mind, telling her things she already knew. And if it wasn't... Regardless, he was right. She needed control. This, her dream, it was the one place she had ultimate control -over everything. Jareth may be able to poke and prod, but Sarah had the power to turn the tables, to make her own decisions. And this was it, this was that palpable moment in which that feeling became something more than simple OCD. She could do what she wanted, she could make the choice. If she wanted to do this, it would happen. It wasn't about spite or pride- She could do something for herself. In that split second, waking up held no consequences, and Dream Jareth v. Real Jareth didn't matter. She had the power, she had control.

She rolled her hips and pressed down.

* * *

Sarah groaned and rolled onto her stomach. There was a churning, floating feeling pushing through her abdomen, making the transition from slumber to consciousness smooth and drift-like. She kept her eyes closed, still stuck in her inhibition-less mindset of controlled pleasure. She pushed her face into her pillow, and reveled in the warmth of her own breath as she exhaled into the plush fabric. She squeezed her thighs together, and registered her hand between her legs -the probable cause for the overwhelming feeling of heated bliss gorging on her sanity.

She moaned again, quiet and muffled, lost to herself, and writhed into the sheets. Her dream was over, she was awake now, she knew that; but the feeling wasn't yet satisfied. And after waking, she realized how much more -intense- that feeling had become. She was floating in a strange sense of lucidity, not quite registering reality, and yet fully aware of the absence of fantasy.

She pushed her fingers harder, pressing over her most tender spots in a manner that made her wild enough not to care, but kept her in line enough not to cause a public disturbance. She continued to squirm, listening to her own muffled moans, and pushing herself further and further until she felt the heat in her cheeks. She thought to roll over, to find some place cool and take in fresh air; but she secretly loved the heat, the consumption that came with it. It drove her higher and higher. The closeness, the consumption, the total freedom, the utter possession. She couldn't escape it, and she didn't want to.

She was starting to lose herself to the point where her fingers were becoming flimsy and hard to control. But, one undetermined flick caused everything to burst and fall over the edge in a cascade of carnal satisfaction. She hummed in the back of her throat, and slowly relaxed into her bed, laying flat on her stomach.

A second or two ticked by, before she finally opened her eyes and glanced about the room.

She shrieked and jumped to her knees in a nanosecond.

*Gasp* How in the world could she forget? How in the bloody Hell could she let herself do that? Knowing where she was and who was probably watching the entire time? Jesus fuck. She clutched the blanket to her chest and darted her head frantically all over the room. Her heart beat furiously as she scanned for the whereabouts of Jareth, and felt the heat in her cheeks start to fade as she realized she was alone.

"Oh, thank God.." She said, exasperatedly, and relaxed a little into her heap of blanket. She had barely enough time to register the fact that she was in a nightgown when the distinct sound of footsteps treading across the floor began to echo from around the corner. She almost yelped when Jareth suddenly appeared in front of her.

He was adjusting the cuffs of his sleeves, standing tall and casual in every sense. He looked up, and an honest flash of surprise lit up his face. He tilted his head just slightly, and turned to pace towards the bed.

"Well, you're up early." He said, full of morning cheer, with a boyish smile to match.

Sarah's face boiled until she was as red as a lobster, and sat utterly frozen as he approached. He slowed a bit, observing.

"Are you alright?" He asked, narrowing his eye just a tad. Sarah's eyes widened and she gulped before darting her gaze every which way, prolonging the inevitable incoherent babble. Dear Lord. She'd never been so embarrassed, never in all her life been in such a panic. Not more than two seconds ago she'd been quite blatantly masturbating to _him_. And she had no idea if he knew anything about it. _How to react? How to react? Play it cool? Or go on the offensive? AHHH._

He was closer now, standing at the post of the bed. His expression seemed honest enough, full of concern and a twinge of amusement. She took in a breath and held it.

"I'm fine." She peeped, as if just speaking would send her over the edge -a different edge this time. Jareth's brow twitched, and he crossed his arms over his chest.

"Are you feeling alright?" He asked. And although his voice was sincere, she caught sight of the smile tugging at the corner of his lips. She focused on it, and used her suspicion to compose herself.

"Why wouldn't I be?" She snapped. Jareth almost looked taken aback by her sudden glare.

"I wouldn't know, hence the question."

"What are you doing here?" She snapped again. Jareth's brow rose, now very much intrigued with her strange morning state.

"I came to wake you, but you seem to have that taken care of." He said, dubiously.

"So, you're saying you just got here?" She asked, and seemed to let out some kind of relief through a long breath. Jareth's attentions continued to narrow.

"Yes...why?" He asked. Sarah's blush reddened anew, and she darted her eyes away.

"No reason." She piped. Jareth took half a step closer.

"What were you doing just now?" He asked, his voice perked up with something naughty. Sarah's jaw clenched and her brow rose high as she tried and failed to remain aloof.

"Nothing."

"I wouldn't happen to be intruding on something, would I?" He asked, mischievously, his imagination starting to run rampant, as he encroached evermore on the poor pitifully petrified Sarah.

"Like what?" She asked, feigning indifference, and scooted away from him to the other side of the bed.

"Oh, I haven't the slightest clue." He said, and finally let his smile show. "Well...except for your strange bedside manner that is." His eyes and teeth were suddenly sharper. Sarah felt like a poor piglet about to be devoured by the big bad wolf. "I say, you're not blushing, are you?" He asked, and bent down to sit on the edge of the bed.

"No." She snapped, and could feel her heated cheeks start to burn as her blush intensified.

"I haven't caught you doing something indecent, have I?" He asked, with all the wickedness in the world put into one simple smile. Sarah almost coughed. Was he fucking with her? Or did he really have no idea about her dream, or what she did after she woke up? She didn't know which was more embarrassing, knowing it was the Real Jareth and having him know it too, or keeping the secret that it really was her own dark and twisted fantasy. She scooted until there was no where left to scoot.

"I have no idea what you're talking about." She tried to sound offended, but only resulted in confirming her own guilt.

"No? You seem awfully embarrassed, and I dare say skittish over nothing." He leaned forward, and rose a deadly brow in her direction.

"And you seem to be perfectly well posed and calculated." She snapped.

"And what do you mean by that?" He asked. She clung to the blanket for extra support.

"I think you know." Jareth's brow drew then, a little confused, or uncertain at least.

"Should I?" He asked, both to her and himself. Sarah eyes darted in a flash. Then something clicked, his fantastical imagination solidifying into reality. Jareth's demeanor darkened, deliciously, and his shoulders hunkered down in an animalistic stance as if he were about to pounce on his prey. "Sarah, did you have a rough night's sleep?" He asked, just barely restraining a laugh. Sarah was so red she was approaching purple.

"What ever you're alluding to, you can just stop right now. You were in my head again, I know you were, so stop pretending." She snapped, angrily, and only grew more so when his grin then stretched from ear to ear.

"Actually, I remember explicitly staying out of your head last night." He said, confirming Sarah's deepest fears. _Fuck_.

She thought she may have swallowed her tongue just then, because she couldn't formulate speech for the life of her. She'd never been so embarrassed, and now she knew she could have prevented the whole thing. She could have played it cool and he would have never thought twice. Damn it! And, on a side note, she'd had some pretty interesting revelations between her and her psyche. Hm... At least Real Jareth wasn't a part of it after all.

"Care to tell me what it was you were dreaming about?" He asked, playfully. Sarah narrowed her eyes.

"Not you." She said, and crossed her arms. Jareth tisked at her.

"Sarah, I'll warn you once not to lie to me, ever, about anything." He said, putting just a hint of warning into his otherwise warm and cheerful voice.

"Fine. No, I don't care to tell you what it was about." She said. He shrugged and rolled his eyes.

"That's fine, I'd rather see for myself, anyway." He said, and jumped her from across the bed.

As it always seemed, Sarah reacted a split second too late. Jareth was on her in a flash, pinning her down and straddling her as she flailed in surprise. He held her down, and wrapped his hands around either side of her head. He held her for a moment or two, and she tried not to notice his expression as it changed from amusement, to brief concern, confusion, awe, and then victory. Total, arrogant fucking victory. He looked down to her, and she could swear she'd never seen his smile so radiant. He let go of her head, and she huffed and puffed in frustration, refusing to look him in the eye.

"Well, you certainly had an interesting night." He said. Sarah tried her best to shoot lasers out of her eyes.

"Get off of me!" She growled, her embarrassment fuzing into rage. Jareth sat back on his heels, resting his hands on his knees as he reveled in her distress.

There were a multitude of ways Jareth could have handled this situation. He could have behaved very badly, as was his first inclination. He could have taken advantage of Sarah's shame, exploited it to its fullest extent, and inevitably ended up in having to deal with either her blood-curdling rage, or her in a pitiful heap of sobs. He could have been very rash, and impulsive, as was his nature. He could have reveled in his amusement openly and fully at her expense. He could have done a lot of things. But during the split second in which he thought this all over, he realized what a rare opportunity this was, and as such needed to be dealt with strategically. He leaned down, and laid flat on top of her, mindlessly fiddling with the tassels dangling off the trim of her blanket.

"You know, for someone as perverted as I know you are, your sexual fantasies are rather dull." He said, blandly, with his eyes cast down. Sarah's eyes widened and froze in slight mortification.

"E-excuse me?" She asked, dumbfounded. That -was not an anticipated response on Jareth's end.

"Well, they always seem to pick up in the middle, with both parties conveniently in the nude, and both decently hidden within the masses of an ever-present bed in an ominous setting. Your positioning is basic, and the course of the whole scenario seems to follow a set pattern of events. It's very ...simple. I find it rather adorable." He said, and stole a peek at her expected look of abhorrence.

Sarah...didn't quite know what to do. How do you respond to something like that? Especially when it's coming from Jareth of all people. She thought of numerous responses, but none of which she thought would be appropriate or beneficial to her in the long run.

"Adorable?" Was all she could come up with.

"Yes, your ignorance in this matter is very _adorable_." He annunciated the last word, letting it catch on his tongue deliberately as he locked his eyes with hers for the briefest moment. He looked away and smiled to himself. He'd peeked her interest, success.

"What do you mean ignorance? I know my way around the birds and the bees if that's what you're getting at." Alright, she may have felt a little offended. She hated the way he patronized her, his unwavering arrogance. She did not need Jareth gloating over her in the matters of sex; She did not need Jareth doing anything over her at all.

"Really? Care to share?"

"No."

"Your awkwardness only proves my point." He said, sounding so satisfied with himself. Sarah huffed through her nose. He was still laying on her. They were each quiet a moment before Jareth continued, "I was right, you know -in your dream." Sarah perked up. "It is just pleasure. You make it seem so complicated, like life and death." He paused to take in her scowl. "It could be so easy for you, like a dream. I could show you-"

"I know how to have sex, Jareth." She snapped, harshly. Jareth peered up at her. That wasn't exactly where he was going with that sentence, but she'd opened a better door. A sneer curled one side of his lips.

"Oh, I assure you, you don't." He said, dark and dangerously. Sarah scowled further.

"Yes I do, contrary to what you might think, I have dabbled in the area of copulative relations. I'm not the starch white virginal archetype you think I am." She said. Jareth's eyes just got brighter and brighter.

"You're not? My senses must be dulling. What have you done? What ever it may have been, I can guarantee it will be nothing compared to what I will do to you." He said, and she couldn't help but notice his use of the term _will_. "Tell me, what makes you so knowledgeable?" He asked. Sarah's jaw drew tight, she really, really didn't want to have this discussion with Jareth. But, the side of her brain occupied solely with anger and pride was pushing for her to stake a claim, put him in his place. And even still, a very, very small part of her was whispering that they were going to be married soon. Wouldn't it be better to have this talk?

"I've done-"

"You've done what?" Jareth interjected. "Fondled and poked and prodded? Based on the simple, romanticized context of your dreams, I'd say you haven't the slightest idea of what it truly means to be with someone." Sarah closed her mouth. It seemed like this conversation was somehow turning into a lecture.

"Your dreams are nothing but fluff and haze. You realize that in a dream you don't actually _sense_ anything? You don't feel the warmth of a body pressing against yours, you don't smell the heady musk of pheromones that span around and between two people in the throws. Your scenes pick up in the middle, do you have any idea how to even start?" Sarah was watching him eagerly now, observing the steady grow of his own passion in speaking.

"Everything is so clean and pristine to you, you really think that's what it's like? Shimmering light and matted sheets? Sex, my dear, sweet, ignorant, Sarah, is anything but. It is dirty. It is despicable. It is messy, and frenzied and nothing like your romantic fairytales. You can't imagine dirt and grime, the sublime of it, the total consumption of it.

"You've never experienced the heat, the blistering heat that suctions tattered clothing to your skin with thick and delicious sweat, that slides slick bodies up and down one another once it's been ripped away. You've never smelled the aromas of each other's arousal mixing onto one another, or felt each other's fluids dripping down and smearing between your thighs. You've never seen the evidence of which that will stain your sheets, witnessed the smeared disfigurement of your face in the mirror, or the battered mess your hair will be in and the pain you'll go through to brush it out. You have no idea of the exertion you'll feel, of the exhaustion that comes with total satisfaction. But, more importantly, you can not possibly hope to imagine what it would feel like to have me inside you, to be stretched and filled and pushed over the edge and pulled back again. All of these things, every aspect and so much more, you could never come close to imagining. So go ahead, tell me all the dirty little things you've done with your mortal boys. It won't matter, because you have done nothing if it has not been with me."

Sarah stared, aghast. There were a myriad of thoughts and emotions floating around in her head, none of them good. Jareth's description of sex... On one hand, it revolted her that he could think that sex could be nothing more than animal fucking -which is the summary she got from him. Surely, sex could be nice and gentle and -clean...? And on another hand, Jareth's words invigorated her. Just speaking of this topic ignited an unfamiliar fire. The passion in his voice turned possessive, as if he were offended to even entertain the idea of her past exploits. Jareth or not, from man to woman, his words were having a very dangerous effect on her. It was...exciting, and Jareth himself was excited while talking about it. She felt something in the pit of her stomach, an ache that she rarely felt. And she knew what it was. She was turned on, big time, just from the carnality of his words. But that was bad, especially after that morning. She should not be thinking or feeling these things for Jareth -not for a long time, at least. She pushed his words away. Pride to the rescue!

"You seem pretty sure of yourself."

"I have every reason to be." He answered. Crap. She hadn't thought this far ahead.

"Yeah... that whole 'I'm the master of the sack' arrogance thing? It may work for the women you're used to, but it's a total turn off for me." Her inner self threw one fist in the air and jumped, screaming Ah hah! in victory. Yes, that was a good, cool response. She followed it up by lazily rolling her eyes away from him.

"Ah, then what _does_ turn you on?" He asked, retaining his playful mood. Sarah tried crossing her arms over her chest, which was rather difficult given Jareth's proximity.

"Not you." Jareth was about to counter when she continued. "What are you doing here anyway?" She asked. It seemed to work as a distraction.

"I was thinking that I rather neglected you yesterday, and so I planned on making up for it today." He said, eerily cheery.

"Oh, joy." She responded, sarcastically, and rolled her eyes back to him.

"You're ecstatic, I know." He said, equally sarcastically. Sarah almost laughed at him, but didn't. She liked when he was in a good mood -obviously, because he wasn't tormenting her. But it was also like standing alone in the eye of the storm, you never knew when everything could turn to total shit. "I do wonder though..." He started. Sarah turned back, curious with the distant tone of his voice, as if he was just voicing something he'd been pondering for some time now. "Why, in all your dreams, you're never a starch white virginal archetype?"

Sarah blinked. This was too personal of a question to just talk casually about with Jareth. Also, she was too busy pondering that question herself. She'd never really thought of that.

"How do you know?" She countered, giving herself more time to think.

"Because I do. You young maidens always make such a scene of it. I wonder, through all your romantic haze, why you never feature that in your fantasies."

Sarah pondered. She pondered not the answer to that question, but the answer she would give him.

"That would be because losing my virginity to you is not one of my fantasies." She said, and just like that a dead weight had fallen and shattered the air between them. The light in Jareth's eye dimmed subtly, and his smile began to fade. That wasn't quite the brick wall of an answer he was expecting, but one he himself could have quite easily guessed.

"You don't know what you're saying." He said. Sarah felt her ears tense with agitation. "Do you think it will really be so bad? What would be the harm?" Sarah narrowed her eyes.

"The harm, my dear King, would be to my pride, my conscience, and my free will." Jareth started to shift off of her.

"You're still under the impression that I'm going to rape you." He almost mumbled. Sarah sat up a little.

"Being married won't grant you my automatic consent." She said. Jareth paused, and turned back to her.

"That's what you think will happen?" He asked, sounding to be in general disbelief. Sarah sat up a little straighter.

"That is what will happen, isn't it?" She asked, just a little awkwardly. Jareth rose his brow, which sagged in a kind of frown.

"I know what rape is, Sarah. I told you, the night you came here, I would not."

"But you said 'come our wedding night, you will submit to me' ." She reiterated Jareth's previous sentiment.

"Yes." Sarah almost shook her head, confused.

"Well?"

"You will give yourself to me, not because I force you or because we have a contract. You'll give yourself to me because you'll want to." He said. Sarah scowled hard.

"And what if I don't?" She asked, sharply.

"I have very little doubt of that."

"You really are just that arrogant, aren't you? It's amazing." She said, exasperated and disgusted at the same time. Jareth thought to be offended, but chose otherwise.

"No, you just have no idea what it is I'm offering you, yet." He said, and moved to sit on the edge of the bed.

"I don't want what ever it is you're offering me. I thought I made that pretty clear the first time." She said, and quickly snapped her mouth shut. There was a snap in the air just then, and a definite oops moment that had Sarah quickly rethinking her actions. Jareth's expression visibly altered. He looked dark and -brooding. Shit. She did not want to deal with angry Jareth, well, not this early in the morning at least.

"I don't think you know what you want. Better yet, I think you know exactly what you want, you just don't want to admit it. You don't want to own up to it, because you're afraid of what might happen once you actually have it." He hissed. Sarah frowned, she could feel the sting in his words. She actually felt...bad. Hmm.

"And you're the one who wants to marry me." She said. Jareth's ears twitched, but she couldn't figure out what emotion had caused it.

"Yes, I do...I'd like you to ready yourself." He said, his voice sterile and business-like. Sarah frowned further, she really felt bad for -for what? Hurting his feelings? Why should she care? She should be glad she'd hurt his feelings, for making him suffer in some small way that could never in a million years compare to her own. But even the thought of that made her feel like a horrible person. She didn't like to target others like that, apparently even Jareth -though he deserved it. She scooted across the bed, still wrapped in the safety of her blanket, and sat next to him. He wouldn't look at her, sitting stiff and stoic. Mr. Moody was back.

"Did you bring me to bed last night?" She asked. He peered down out of the corner of his eye.

"Yes." She looked down, over her night gown.

"Did you dress me?" She asked. Again, he peered down, wary and curious of her reaction.

"Yes."

"By magic or by hand?" She asked.

"If I said magic, you would be less offended, but you wouldn't believe me. So, regardless of whether or not I truly did one or the other, I will say by hand." He answered. Sarah pursed her lips, her first reaction being to lash out at him and call him a perv and scrutinize him for violating her while she was unconscious. But, wisely, she held her tongue. This was about pulling him out of his dark mood, after all.

"Well, I guess I can say thank you for not leaving me crumpled up in that chair all night." She said. Jareth turned toward her fractionally, cracking just the faintest hint of a smile.

"Sarah, are you trying to lighten the mood?" He asked, his voice quirking up an octave. Sarah looked away.

"Yes." She said, unsure what his response would be. She wasn't ready when he leaned into her, his nose just barely avoiding the sensitive lobe of her ear. His breath sent a chill down her spine. He was right about not actually being able to _sense_ anything in a dream..

"If you want to lighten my mood, I know better ways you can go about doing that." At first, all the little hairs on the back of Sarah's neck froze in dreadful anticipation, before her mind caught up and put a firm scowl on her face.

"Ya know what? Never mind." She said, and threw back the blanket as she stalked towards the bathroom. She didn't notice Jareth's attention flicker down to the bed, and then back up at her. And she didn't notice the spark that blazed his eyes back to life.

She'd just made it to the door, wrapped her hand around the handle, when all of the sudden Jareth turned her around and threw her into the door. She hit the wood with a gasp, and her heart kick-started in a mini flurry with the sudden surge of surprise.

For reasons unknown to Sarah, Jareth had her firmly pressed against the bathroom door, his body filling her entire view and a new, energized smile lighting up his face. Though his face was bright, his demeanor was dark. It was a strange, ominous combination.

"What are you-" She managed to say, before being rudely cut off by Jareth's face pressing roughly into the crook of her neck. His fingers flexed and tightened around her biceps, and lifted her just a bit, so she had to stand on the tips of her toes. She kept as stiff as a plank, caught completely off guard and not having the slightest clue as to what was going on or how to handle it.

He moved downward, over her clavicle, and that was when she realized what he was doing. She'd thought that maybe he was angry, or maybe he would to try assault her again. Both of those options were still on the table, but at the moment, she realized that all he was doing was -smelling her. She wasn't sure how to take that.

He hunched down a bit, running his nose down the front of her chest and inhaling deeply. She continued to remain motionless as he made the round of her bust, and continued even further downward. It was only when he reach her abdomen that he stopped, and nuzzled his face into the fabric of her nightgown.

"Don't move." He said, and slowly released her arms.

Sarah - didn't move. She didn't know why, because every fiber of her being was telling her to run away, but she didn't. She stood completely still, as if locked in a standoff between her and a deadly beast, any break in stance would show weakness, and the creature would pounce and rip her to shreds. She wasn't sure how far off that parallel was, but that was how she was feeling at the moment. She lowered her head and watched as Jareth's hands clamped down on her thighs, squeezing both gently and firmly as they groped and pulled at her nightgown. She tilted her head, wary and intrigued. The way he was moving...he seemed conflicted, like he was holding back from something, and it was that unknown something that made her stand all the more rigid.

His head started to move again, inching lower and lower until he was kneeling on the floor before her. His hands ran up and down her thighs, before one finally decided on a course of action and feverishly pushed up the hem of her nightgown. Paying her no mind, he jerked on her newly exposed leg so it was out and bent at the knee. She leaned back against the door for balance, heavily contemplating turning the knob and trying to lock herself inside, knowing that all it would do is invoke his anger. He held her leg with one hand, and ran the other up the inside of her thigh. He nuzzled his face into the path of his hand, seeming to be lost in a strange sense of bliss as he took in her scent. _Wtf?_ She quietly wondered. His nose reached the junction of her thigh, and a sharp jolt of anxiety shot up her spine, but she did well to suppress it. He nuzzled his nose into the delicate folds of fabric and exhaled slowly. She could feel the heat of his breath on an already heated part of her body, a part that he was dangerously close to and could very well feel the radiating heat as well.

"I think I know why you were blushing so feverishly when I first came in." He mumbled. The vibration of his voice made her knee want to buckle. She wanted to answer, but couldn't. "You smell..." He started to say, and lost himself as he closed his eyes and pressed his face into her leg. "Unbelievably intoxicating." He finally finished, after finding the much needed focus, and moved up around the line of her waist. "The blanket covered it well, but...you're not under the blanket anymore." He murmured, and lightly nipped at the spot below her navel. She became very wary with the strange sense of -ecstasy? she heard in his voice. The way he moved and spoke was languid, lax, and animalistic. If she didn't know any better, she would have entertained the thought that he was high on something. He'd inched himself almost under her, holding her leg practically over his shoulder. She had no idea what to do but as he said -don't move.

"I don't think I've ever smelled something so divine." He said, and nipped at the fabric over her hip. Sarah's breath started to quicken, with both panic and -something else. "Thinking of you doing this to yourself, and knowing it was while thinking of me...fight me all you want but I long to make you cum for me, to feel the heat and the wetness of it." His nose and lips had made it to her other leg, and his free hand was starting to creep up under the hem of her nightgown. "Your pheromones are so strong...it's like a drug." He murmured. Ah, so she wasn't far off. Was he really affected so much just by smell? A smell that she couldn't even detect in the slightest? It was then that she remembered he wasn't human, his senses probably worked differently than hers, maybe they affected him differently as well? That idea seemed ...primal. Hm, a literally animalistic Jareth. Now that was a scary thought.

Sarah found herself in a most interesting predicament. She wanted to run away-, run far, far away, lock herself in a very small room and wrap herself in a cocoon of up to twenty or so blankets. She wanted to be anywhere other than where she was. And yet, she'd never heard someone say something so erotic -to her -about her. Begrudgingly, dazed and lucid Jareth was igniting the more primal side of Sarah's libido, with or without her consent. She couldn't decide what to do -aside from not move.

"There's so many things..." He started to say, just as the tip of his nose began to graze along the thin material shielding him from her hot and reluctantly ready center. She wasn't sure if it was reflex or conscience that gave her voice.

"Jareth-" She spat, in an obvious plea to cease. He paused, just barely being pulled from his moment. "Jareth, I-" She was looking down on him, waiting for him to look up at her. He pulled away a little more, so she continued. "I-I don't want-" She didn't get to finish, or she didn't have to, rather. Her voice was cut off by a low sigh from Jareth, who dryly released her and finished pulling away. She couldn't quite tell if he was defeated, or just bored. Either way, she got her wish. He stood, and looked down on her.

"I suggest you scrub hard." He said, coldly, and stalked away.


	18. Hope And It's Other Like-Forms part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While unbeknown to her, Sarah has succeeded in obtaining the one thing the Goblin King has desired for hundreds of years -power over the Labyrinth. After being hidden for years from his diabolical wrath, Sarah finds herself alone and vulnerable as Jareth's dark desires are finally aloud to rear their ugly heads. As always, the only question is, are things really as they seem?

And on that interesting note, Sarah took her leave into the safety of the bathroom. She emerged some time later, after spending most of her escape pondering what to do once she came out, and then making the realization that she forgot to take clothing in with her.

She curled her fingers around the plane of the door and peered around the corner, and tried to act indifferent as she stepped from the bathroom to her dresser. She clung to her towel almost desperately, burning Jareth with her stare out of the corner of her eye. He was sitting in a chair, facing away from her, as per usual, and absently juggling a crystal along his fingertips. She crinkled her nose at his profile, irritated that she was so aware of him all of the time and yet he could completely cut her off from his surroundings with seemingly no effort at all. She opened the closet door and grabbed the first thing she saw.

Her second venture out of the bathroom was done with only a smidgen of confidence. She felt a little awkward in the clothing she'd chosen - knee high pantaloons and a long overly-baggy button down shirt. Even to her, this outfit seem just a tad too androgynous. But, oh well, she wasn't about to fret with Jareth prowling about the room. She approached him cautiously, not sure if he was still irritated or not. He was still fiddling with his crystal, and from its reflection she could tell he was watching something. The brief moment of distraction allowed her eyes to roam from the curve of his nose all the way down to his worn leather boots, casually crossed at the ankle and propped up on a coffee table. She turned her attentions back to his face after catching a flash twitch of his brow out of the corner of her eye.

"What, no boots today?" He asked, while simultaneously flicking the crystal away. Sarah leaned back on her heels, looking down the length of her exposed shins to examine the pair of soft and cozy slippers snug around her feet.

"Uh, I guess not." She answered with a shrug, and kept her eyes glued to his profile as he stood and moved away from the chair. "So...I'm stuck -I mean, graced with your pleasant company for how long?" She asked, surreptitiously stepping in his path as he moved through the room. He paused to give her a flash of a smirk as he glanced at her from over his shoulder.

"Would it be too cliché if I said forever?" He asked, rhetorically, and carried on. Sarah pursed her lips at the back of his head, and tried with all her might to simply erase their disturbingly arousing indiscretion only an hour ago. She realized, some time ago, that that was the only way to get on with life -just try to ignore it.

She followed him into the parlor area of her room, and watched as he took a seat at one end of the dining table.

"Sit." He ordered. He flicked his gaze up when she remained still, and he rose an expectant eyebrow in her direction. She raised one back. "Would you please have a seat?" He corrected, with a sting of shame hidden in his voice. She crossed her arms over her chest and plopped herself in the chair adjacent his. "Are you hungry?" He added.

"Kind of.." She conceded, and tried not to slouch in her seat. Jareth looked away, and reached for something across the table. Her eyes followed the line of his arm and saw the object he had reached for was in fact the small bell he'd given her last night. Her face perked up at that, as she also remembered the crystallized flower he'd given her. She wondered where it was...

"I put it on your vanity with the rest of your mementos." Jareth mumbled. Sarah's head twitched back to him, and drew a suspicious brow on the way he'd answered her thoughts. "If you were wondering where your flower went, that is." He added, and turned to catch her gaze as he held out the bell to her. "Would you care to do the honors?" He asked. Sarah's blank expression flickered from his eyes down to his hand, as she reached out to take the bell by the handle, trying and failing to avoid physical contact with him. She almost winced when their fingers brushed one another, and whether reflexively or deliberately, Jareth's hand twitched in the most subtle of caresses. It was a moment that passed within the tenth of a second, but its presence seemed loud and agonizing as Sarah ignored the hum of warmth that came from it, and ended the gesture just as casually as it was intended. Without another look to Jareth, she rang the bell. They sat a moment, waiting, until the door suddenly opened, revealing a very skittish looking Goblin carrying a tray. It scuttled over, bowed -first to Jareth, then Sarah- placed the tray before her, bowed again, and scuttled away as if it had never been there. Sarah's mouth hung agape and she frowned, missing yet another opportunity to thank the waiter. She didn't dwell on the matter however, and turned her attention back to the covered tray, marking the fact that there was only one.

"Don't you ever eat?" She suddenly asked, a little hostility, and rolled her eyes with the blank expression that was Jareth's response. "I never see you eat, only once when we had that boar stew..." A small smile burnished his lips.

"I eat. I'm just not accustomed to the kinds of food you prefer." He explained.

"Well, I don't care. It freaks me out, the way you just sit there and watch me."

"So, what do you propose exactly?" He asked, mockingly. She huffed at him.

"A compromise. What would you like to eat?" She asked. Jareth rose his brow at her, this was perhaps the first time she'd ever asked what _He_ wanted.

"Well...I tend to skip breakfast altogether, if you really wanted to know." He said. "But, since you're trying-" He added, and reached over to remove the lid from her tray. "I could do with something light, I suppose." She looked down and saw the platter littered with toasts and different kinds of fruit jams. Hm.

"Alright then..." She said, with a shrug, and reached for a butter knife.

* * *

"So, what's the plan for today?" Sarah asked, as she wiped a few stray crumbs from the corner of her mouth. Breakfast was progressing in a comfortable, relative silence, but she knew it would soon be coming to a close. Damn these awkward silences.

"Well, I don't really have one." He said. Sarah's eyes brightened.

"You mean to say that the all mighty Goblin King doesn't have a plan?" She asked. Jareth cracked a smirk at her tone of voice and looked away before responding. It was strange, even to him, how they could go from such a terrible state of relations to -this- friendly and complacent, and back again, so fast.

"Well, when you put it that way, my_ plan_ was to be in your company. But, if you want specifics, we could finish touring the castle, if you'd like." He suggested, and took a sip of the tea that had been conjured to accompany their breakfast.

"Ok." She agreed. Touring the castle was a mindless, impersonal enough task, one that would be sure to get them through a good chunk of the day without causing some kind of travesty. Plus, she was a bit curious to see what other strange rooms the castle had to offer. And the mindless meandering would give her a kind of solitude during which to properly close off the morning's affair.

"Shall we be on, then?" He asked, and stood from his seat. Sarah blinked as she shook her head clear of distracting thoughts and stood with him.

* * *

"I think all you're missing is an indoor swimming pool."

Jareth smiled coyly behind Sarah as he closed the door to what he had stated was the final room in the castle. They stepped out into the hallway, which Jareth had also informed lead back into the great hall connecting to the castle gates. Sarah turned and leaned against a wall, rolling her ankles in an attempt to ease their slight achy-ness.

As expected, their journey was far and wide, and took an exaggeratedly dragged-out amount of time to complete. She was pleased however, in having the correct hypothesis of it proving to be a mindless distraction. Jareth seemed to operate on a different level when he had a purpose in mind, one that wasn't devilish and focused solely on her. He was casual, informative, and more importantly, un-intimidating. She appreciated this side of Jareth. The more distinguishable the different extremes of his personality were, the easier it would be for her to channel the more pleasant ones.

She had no idea what time it was, but guessed it was well past midday and possibly even in the early stages of evening. She'd been keeping a hand over her stomach for quite some time now, not wanting to bring up the fact that she was manufactured with an athlete's stomach and needed more than bread and jam to operate throughout the day. Speaking of athletic, it'd been a while since she last had any sort of work out... She'd have to do something about that soon. She glanced down to the floor, a bit lost in her hunger haze.

"Would you like one?"

"What?" Sarah asked, darting her head up with a bit of a deer-in-the-headlights expression.

"An ...indoor pool. Would you like one?" He asked, again. Sarah blinked and rose her brow.

"Uhh..." He smirked at her struggle, and briefly wondered what she was thinking about that had put her so off balance. He took a few steps down the hall, and opened a door that wasn't there before. He turned, and ushered her to follow.

She drew her brow tight as she rounded the corner of the door frame, and then let it rise to considerable heights with what met her.

The room was vast and open. The three walls facing her were lined with magnificent floor to ceiling windows, the same as in the library. The light from which lit up the pale stone of the castle to a warm gold that seemed to vibrate through the air. She took a step further, and lowered her gaze to the floor, and saw there was a huge, beyond huge, in-lain pool taking up most of the room. Her mouth hung open a bit. How-h-what?

"How did you-" She started to say, but cut herself off as she turned to face him.

"Do you like?" He asked, sounding neither hopeful nor indifferent, but there was a familiar spark in his eye that gave tell as to the former. She drew her brow again and looked over the room once more.

"How is it possible for these windows to be here? The way they are? How are they supporting the rest of the castle? And how is this room jutting out? Isn't this hall located in the center of the castle?" She asked, confused as to how physics and architecture played into all this.

"You're over-thinking this." He commented, not bothering to explain for perhaps the hundredth time that physics meant just as much as time did in the Underground. She didn't verbally respond, but nodded as if she understood.

"And you made this, just now, just like that?" She asked. Jareth's eyes seemed to sharpen, but she wasn't sure why.

"You didn't answer my question." His voice was a little lower, more commanding. She almost frowned at him, but then realized what his problem was.

"Yes. I like it. I like the windows. It makes everything feel...not so trapped." She said, being completely honest for once. Jareth's sharp demeanor didn't change, but his aura softened.

"Good. I want to give you the things you desire. And I want you to desire the things I give you." He said, short and crisp. She wanted to roll her eyes at him. Was he really mad that she hadn't jumped up and down in excitement over this, and groveled at his feet in thanks? Well, maybe she could have shown just a little more gratitude. He had done this just for her, after all. He was -trying. Eh...there was that word again. The last time she thought he was trying was when they'd eaten pizza on the floor next to the fireplace -_and look how that turned out... _She reminded herself. She almost drifted off as her eyes took in the fading landscape of the Underground sunset. Judging from the hue of the sky, it had to be almost six o'clock. She turned back to peer at him from over her shoulder, realizing he was waiting for something.

"Yes well...I suppose I'll have to ask you for a bathing suit now?" She asked, with just a hint of snark to lighten the atmosphere. The crack of his sneer marked the return of his pleasant and docile mood.

"I hadn't thought of that." He answered, speaking more to himself than to her. That small realization brought about many, many wonderfully delicious possibilities, of which he felt himself becoming distracted with and fought to push to the back of his mind for the time being; though he failed to hide his smile.

As Sarah waited for him to finish his thought, her eyes caught on a blur as something flashed by the open door. She narrowed her eyes for a moment, causing Jareth, who had been focusing on Sarah, to turn back towards the door with equal curiosity. Suddenly, the flash was back, but this time it sped to a stop in the doorway and became the image of yet another terrified looking Goblin. Its chest heaved in apparent exhaustion as its beady little eyes darted feverishly around the room until finding their mark on Jareth. It then bounded into the room, and lowered into a bow before resuming its steady, panicky bounce.

"Excuse me, Majesty." It tried not to shout.

"What?" Jareth commanded. There was a sharp irritation in his voice that Sarah recognized instantly, and had her wondering if it were a true emotion or just a part of the act.

"Sire, Master Roldan has returned and is asking to see you, most haste." It exclaimed. Sarah's eyes narrowed on the creature, and then turned up to Jareth, who was giving it an even more intense scowl. His expression worried her for some reason, and made the situation feel all the more awkward.

"What? For what reason?" Jareth asked. His voice was significantly louder now. She recognized this as well, and understood that he was actually angry now. The Goblin cowered, as if privy to some deep dark secret that once revealed would lead to its imminent demise. _Did something happen?_

"He didn't say, Sire. But he was -very urgent in having council with you." It stammered. Sarah spied on Jareth's darkening state out of her peripheral, and couldn't help but feel her own worry solidify. _Jareth had said Roldan was taking care of some things up north...based on Jareth's reaction, Roldan wasn't supposed to be back so soon. Is something wrong?_ She wondered.

"Well, where is he?" Jareth snapped.

"Awaiting you in the library, Sire." It answered. Jareth groaned, and huffed through his nose.

"Very well, off with you." He said, and shooed the poor creature away. He sighed at the floor, fighting off his scowl before looking up to Sarah, who stood stiff and rigid like an awkward third wheel teetering off to the side. He took a step or two, closing the small gap between them.

"It seems I have a situation to deal with."

"Um, ok? Is everything alright?" She asked, uncertain of what her reaction to this should be.

"I'm sure it's nothing. I'll come find you when I'm finished." He said. Sarah looked away, awkwardly. In any normal relationship, this would be the part where you casually consoled one another and kissed each other good bye by saying, 'See you later, dear, hope everything's alright'.

"I trust you'll be able to entertain yourself until then?" He asked.

"Uh, yea. I'm sure I can find something to do."

"Until then." He said, in the blink of an eye, he was gone.

* * *

Sarah gave an awkward sigh as she stood, now alone, in the vast, newly-installed pool room, and raised an arm to scratch the back of her head as she tried to decide what to do with herself. She wandered over towards the window railing and glanced over the fading landscape of the Underground. She could see a corner of the Labyrinth from where she was, and from that, figured the room must be located to the far left of the castle. She shook her head with bewilderment. Apparently, physics, along with time, meant nothing here.

She stood there, for no more than a minute or two, before growing insanely antsy. She sighed again, with irritation, and leaned against the window pier. She hated this, this feeling of displacement, and hated that she only felt this way when Jareth left her. Why? Why, why, why? Why was it that when she wasn't with Jareth, she felt stir crazy and lonely, when she was being ignored by him she felt hurt and attention hungry, and yet when she was actually with him -garnering all of his focus- she wanted nothing to do with him? It made zero sense to her, and she hated it. She hated feeling this way, feeling so confused and yet -not confused in the slightest. Something was going on. She could feel it, looming around in the background. She looked down towards the railing and sighed a third time, and sagged a little into the pier. _I wonder where Liana is... _She wondered.

Considering all the questions and suspicions Sarah had about that woman, she longed for her company almost desperately. While she didn't know if she could fully trust her, Liana hadn't done anything harmful to her. And while their talks were brief and often general, she was turning out to be the only confidant Sarah had- the only means of an outlet from Jareth. Liana's words, her very presence, soothed her, gave her some perspective on things. She frowned at the pale yellow stone of the railing. She could really use a pep-talk right now.

She turned around, planning on stalking her way back to the solitude of her room, when she was rudely halted in her tracks by a mass of bulky leather and fur.

She shrieked and, in her effort to back peddle, ended up toppling forward face first into what she -in that brief half second- recognized as a man. A man that wasn't Jareth. Her eyes grew wide as they filled to the brim with panic and the first signs of fight or flight. She rose her hands to brace herself, placing them firmly against the mysteriously clad stranger's chest. Strong hands rose to capture her by the shoulders, saving her from her inevitable plummet to the floor.

"Jesus Christ!" She exclaimed, and immediately tried jumping away from him. She didn't have time to get a good look at him, but she knew just from his state of dress that it definitely wasn't Jareth. Jareth, had worn his usual, loose-fitting gear, while this figure was broad and dense with layers and layers of fabric. She didn't know there were other humanoids in the castle. Jareth hadn't said anything...was this man supposed to be there?

"Pardon me!" A startled voice replied, with seemingly equal amounts of panic.

For reasons Sarah couldn't explain, she kept her eyes to the floor, too surprised to raise them and face the stranger. He kept his hands around her arms, ensuring she maintained balance as he took half a step back, giving them both some space. Her eyes darted up at the sound of his voice, however. He sounded...familiar.

Sarah's gaze widen again, but for reasons other than panic. At first, she wasn't sure if she was seeing him correctly, and actually blinked repeatedly in an effort to refocus her vision.

The first thing she noticed, with eerie familiarity, were his eyes- eyes that were both bright and pale all at once. They were a glimmering hazel, the blue in which broke through the pale brown and splintered from his pupils like a brilliant sun burst. They were sharp and calculating, but had an odd sense of warmth that she couldn't quite place. He was staring at her, but it seemed he was somehow looking straight through her. She knew those eyes, that intensity. They looked just like Jareth's. Her plane of view widened to capture the rest of his face -pale, healthy skin that glowed with the reflected light of the pool, light, elegantly slashed eyebrows and a sharp nose. His face was long and soft, like an early sculpture that was just starting to hint at the chiseled masterpiece that lay just beneath its surface. He looked young, very young, no more than early twenties she would guess, without a trace or scratch of time on him. His hair was remarkably pale, so blonde it looked white in a certain light, and it was short and messy, falling leisurely about the frame of his face.

In the two-tenths of a second it took her to take all this in, she felt the air being viciously pulled from her lungs. This man, looked...he looked...

"Forgive me, I didn't mean to startle you." He said, and cracked a sly smile that further defined his elegant features. There was a crease in his eye, one that grew with his smile as it slowly stretched from ear to ear, and then strained as he tried to keep it sincere. If she didn't know any better, she would have said he was feeling just as awkward as she was.

She didn't say anything, and reflexively glanced down to one of the hands he still held around her arms. His brow shot up, and he had the decency to look almost embarrassed as he released his hold on her and took yet another reluctant, awkward step back. Her eyes narrowed as she observed his gesture. He looked...so...boyish, so...awkward and -innocent? Could those adjectives be used as appropriate descriptions for this man? She continued to gape at him, fighting off the fact that he looked almost identical to a young version of Jareth.

He wobbled on his heel, and continued to stare at her as he awaited some kind of response.

There was a small paradox of explosions going off in Sarah's mind. This man, this totally random stranger, someone who looked eerily identical to Jareth, at the same time looked...absolutely nothing like him. The way he stood, the look in his eye, everything. Everything was different. It was like she was seeing two completely different people at the same time. Who was this man? What was he doing here? Why had he snuck up on her like that?

She shook her head, and tried not to meet him in the eye.

"Um, that's ok. I...just wasn't expecting someone to be standing right behind me." She said, while warily glancing about the room, and side stepping stealthily towards the door.

"Yes...I apologize again. I saw you standing there, haloed by the sunset, and I...just got a bit lost, I suppose." He said, uncertainly and darted his eyes off to the side as he shrugged in his own shame. Sarah's eyes remained wide while her brow drew tighter and tighter. His voice was raspier than Jareth's, and wasn't quite the baritone she'd come to know and quiver under. This man...how could someone look so much like Jareth and yet...and yet act like -that- all knees and elbows kind of thing. She was still having a hard time grasping the fact that this wasn't Jareth, and was therefore assuming he would hold the same mannerisms as he. Jareth, if nothing else, was always poised and confident. The man standing before her however, looked as though he may be even more lost than she. He may have similar bone structure to He Who Thrives On Angst And Torment, but, as it was panning up to be, this man was nothing of the sort. He seemed to be...just a normal, young fellow. Could that be possible?

"Oh..." Was all she could really muster. She was in too much of a twilight zone to actually think at the moment. His brow rose further, misunderstanding her recoil.

"Oh, I hope I haven't offended you, that was not my intention at all." He said, and sounded so upset at that. She frowned, and shook her head again as she forced herself to get over his ghostly appearance.

"No. No. You didn't offend me, it's just -you...you look..." She stuttered and stumbled, not able to get the words out. Who was this man? Why the hell was he here all of the sudden? Was he safe? Where the hell was Jareth? "I...I'm sorry. I'm stammering." She said, and rose a hand to her temple and winced with her own frustrations. She wasn't paying attention when he took a step forward.

"Forgive me, but, did you want to be alone? If I was intruding on you, I apologize-" She opened her eyes to find him standing directly before her.

"No, no, please, stop apologizing. I just assumed you were Jareth..." She didn't know why, but his face lit up immensely at that, and his smile broadened anew.

Sarah found herself staring again. While everything else about him may have reminded her of Jareth, his smile was all his own. It was bright and -warm. There was no trace of a sneer or scheme laced between his teeth or hiding under his tongue. It was wholesome and genuine, something she'd only gotten a quick glimpse of maybe once or twice during the entire time she'd known Jareth. He had a very boy-next-door feel that made her want to giggle, for one because of the irony his appearance played against his demeanor, and two because in his own way, his awkward reluctance was actually very charming.

"You were expecting Jareth? Ah, you must be Sarah then." He said, with some kind of satisfaction. Sarah noticed a shift go through him then, as he seemed to gain some sense of composure along with his statement. He stood taller now, more firmly, and the flighty look in his eye vanished. It was a subtle shift, but one she picked up on immediately.

"How do you know my name? ...You're not -Roldan, are you?" She winced as she uttered Roldan's name. She wasn't sure why she asked that question, but she didn't know any other Fae, and Roldan was the only one Jareth had mentioned to her by name. The man's smile curled on one end, clearly amused now, and laughed just to confirm it. He drew a piece of paper out from his pocket and held it up in the air like a token of victory.

"It's on the invitation." He answered. Sarah cocked her head slightly as she tried to piece it together. _Invitation? Oh! The wedding! _"And no, I am not dear Roldan, but I am sure he will appreciate the compliment much less than I do." He added. There was a certain kind of rumble to his voice, leaving her unsure of how to take his joke. This new tone of his however, she did recognize. She took another precautionary step back, knowing full well that first appearances could be deceiving, and that some things were not as they seemed. For all she knew, this cheeky, boy-next-door could really be some kind of horrible murderous monster. Hmm, now who did that remind her of?

He seemed to sense her suspicion, and took the time to reach out for her hand, distracting her from making any solid notions.

"Pardon my rudeness, I seem to have lost my manners along with your balance. My name is Davion." He said, with a curl of the lips and a kiss on the hand.

* * *

Jareth stormed his way to the library, irritated beyond all recognition. He had no idea why Roldan had returned, or what could be so important that it demanded his immediate attention without a proper introduction. He'd sent Roldan to take quota on the Northern Kingdom some time ago, a rather mundane routine that rarely encountered any complications, and certainly nothing this dramatic. He'd been gone little over a week, just a few days before Sarah's arrival in fact, and wasn't due back for another week or so. His return was very unexpected indeed, and therefore, most troublesome. But, aside from the political worries, Jareth was mostly irritated because he had been crudely interrupted during his time with Sarah. They'd been having a rather peaceful day, and during such he'd hoped to further worm his way into her better frame of mind. If she could stop seeing him as cruel and manipulative, maybe they could actually start to make some progress with one another. He'd thought they were on the brink of something just then. He'd done something generous and selfless, and he thought she may have actually appreciated it. He wasn't lying when he'd said he wanted to give her all that she'd desired. He wanted to give her the world, if she would only let him. He was hoping that, somehow, possibly through that very interaction, she might start to understand that as well. She was making everything so difficult when it could all be so easy... He shook his head as he flew open the door to the library. _Ugh, this better be good..._

He didn't need to look up to know where Roldan would be standing, and instinctively b-lined it to the back of the library, near the line of windows.

"Care to explain why you have returned a week ahead of schedule?" Jareth snapped. Roldan, who had been pacing anxiously along the wall of windows, stopped and turned to face him. Worry lain thick on his face.

"Something has happened of great urgency, Majesty." He bit out. Jareth stopped and stood tall, trying his best not to seem pointlessly agitated. He failed.

"Is there a problem up north?" He asked. One of Roldan's sharply cut eyebrows rose, just slightly.

"No.."

"Then what is so urgent I had to be summoned here without explanation?" Jareth snapped again. This time, Roldan's eyes began to narrow, apparently surprised and offended by Jareth's brashness.

"Your marriage." He snapped, as if having caught Jareth red handed in the midst of some adolescent gimmick.

Jareth paused, just long enough to look caught off guard. He hadn't quite been expecting that. After all, he hadn't yet informed Roldan of Sarah's arrival.

"What?" He asked. Roldan's narrowed eyes turned into a scowl as his anxiety gave way briefly to his own suppressed irritation. He glared blatantly at Jareth, calling him out on his bullshit.

"We received notification of your engagement early this morning. I can't tell you how surprised we all were -your brother, especially." He said, and took a step towards Jareth. "I've been gone one week, one week during which you've managed to court and secure a bride? Why have I no knowledge of this?" There was minor astonishment in his voice, and he shook his head with an awed expression, as if taking Jareth's secret indiscretion personally.

"Not all of my affairs are your business. Your point?" Jareth answered, and crossed his arms as he leaned back against a desk.

"Just how bizarre and... surprising this all is. May I ask who the lucky girl is? I say, I certainly don't recognize her name. Sarah -Williams? What kind of name is that?" His tone was slowly turning sarcastic, something Jareth didn't much care for, but dealt with all the same. He should have been anticipating this when he sent out the invitations last night. He cursed himself under his breath. Once again, Sarah was distracting him in ways that she shouldn't be.

"That is because she is mortal." Jareth answered. Roldan's brow rose.

"Mortal? Well, she must really be something if your courtship lasted all but one week." He said, astonished. His reaction actually made Jareth crack a smirk. If he only knew. Hmm...maybe he should have warned Roldan about all of this before hand.

"Sarah and I have been intertwined with one another for many years." He corrected, which was just vaguely true. Roldan eased his stance to lean against a window.

"If your courtship has been going on for years, why am I hearing of it now? As your advisor it is my job to tell you when you've gone mad." Jareth's smile grew, just a bit. He hadn't thought Roldan would take this so personally. It was as amusing as it was surprising.

"I can assure you, I have my head firmly about me in this." The tension in Jareth's voice was nearly gone now, replaced with a small sense of ease and delight, relieved that _that_ was what all Roldan's fuss was about. Though, he still couldn't believe he would abandon his post so abruptly over an invitation.

Roldan's scowl didn't ease, so Jareth moved on. There was a time to have this discussion in detail, but it wasn't now. "Am I to assume that is the reason you have dashed all the way back here? To lecture me on my impulsive engagement? Or did you feel the overwhelming urge to congratulate me?" He asked, rather sarcastically, but shifted demeanor once Roldan's stance reaffirmed itself.

"No. I ran all the way down here in hopes of warning you."

"Warn me of what?" Jareth asked. Roldan stepped from the window and began to pace.

"You're not the only one who was caught off guard by that invitation, Jareth. I don't think I've ever seen Davion so excited- the way his face lit up when I told him I had no knowledge of this-"

"Spit it out." Jareth interjected, bored with his ambiguity.

"Your brother is on his way to _congratulate_ you. I thought I might try and beat him to it in hopes of giving you -and your new bride- a minor forewarning."

  



	19. Hope And It's Other Like-Forms part 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While unbeknown to her, Sarah has succeeded in obtaining the one thing the Goblin King has desired for hundreds of years -power over the Labyrinth. After being hidden for years from his diabolical wrath, Sarah finds herself alone and vulnerable as Jareth's dark desires are finally aloud to rear their ugly heads. As always, the only question is, are things really as they seem?

"Davion?" Sarah asked, as she slowly pulled her hand away from his. He was bent towards her, and slowly stood, a creeping sneer following him. "Wait...you mean...Jareth's brother?" She asked, and a small light bulb went off in her head. She remembered reading that Jareth had a brother in his lineage book a few days ago. Of course. It all made sense now- their strange likeness and all. But it didn't lessen her twilight episode any. Now that she knew why Davion looked the way he did...his persona only became more surreal.

"Hm, I'm surprised Jareth's mentioned me." He said, with the most humble of smiles, and stood back a bit. He had that bashful look on his face again, the one that struck Sarah so.

"Oh, no. He didn't. I read about you. In a book." She said, and shook her head after hearing how shaky her voice was. Was she seriously nervous right now? It was hard believing Jareth even had family, let alone meeting a member face to face. Having a family, a brother, meant he had parents, who had parents, and children, and nieces and nephews. It made him seem like less of an entity and more human (oid). And while she knew deep down that that was a good thing, she wasn't quite ready to face it yet.

"Really? Something flattering, I hope?" He asked. She blinked away thoughts of Jareth in a flash, and gave a smile to match his own.

The space he put between them allowed her to casually glance over the rest of him. While he was hunched over, she saw that his hair wasn't as short as she thought it was, but in fact quite long. Very long, actually. It was pulled back in a strange kind of braid that stretched to almost the base of his back. It looked odd paired with the rest of him, and made her wonder what it looked like let loose, but she pushed the thought aside. He wore layers of black leather and a deep blue tunic. Draped over his shoulders was a heavy cloak with grey fur along the collar. He looked...very warm. It was almost uncomfortable looking at him, knowing it was at least 75 out today. She thought about asking for his coat.

"Just a family tree." She replied. "Say, um...you must be looking for Jareth, I'm pretty sure he went to the library...there was some sort of emergency or something..." Her voice trailed off and she lowered her gaze to the floor." I could go...get him for you? Or...tell him you're here? Or something..." She continued, feeling extremely awkward and unsure of what the proper course of action would be. She was now considered Hostess, right? Was she supposed to fetch Jareth? Or...urrggg. If she couldn't handle these _basics_ as a spouse, how was she supposed to help rule a kingdom? Wasn't Jareth supposed to teach her these things? She couldn't believe it, but in that very brief moment, she was actually looking forward to this otherwise dreaded _etiquette_; whatever that meant.

"No, thank you. That will not be necessary. After all, I didn't come here to see my brother. I came here to see you." He answered. Her eyes jumped up to his at that. And she found that he was smiling wryly at her. It was an expression that aged him, and added a certain darkness to his otherwise angelic image. She didn't like it. It reminded her too much of his older brother.

"Excuse me?" She asked, feeling like she was now standing in the middle of a bulls eye. She wasn't ready for this. He registered her hesitation, and blinked innocently at her, rolling his eyes down to the paper he held in his hand.

"I received an invitation to my brother's wedding late last night...Now, imagine how curious this was to me, being the younger brother, with no previous knowledge that my dearest and only older brother was even courting to begin with?" He asked, with a quirk of the brow. "So, naturally, I thought it best to investigate, offer my congratulations personally and immediately. And of course be the first to meet my darling new sister." He added, and tucked the letter back into his pocket. Sarah's brow unconsciously narrowed as she took in his words. Based on the sole fact that he looked ungodly akin to his brother, Sarah held an instant suspicion of his every word. But, there was something about him, something uniquely him that told Sarah he was nothing like Jareth. He seemed...honest, sincere maybe. She was unaware that she'd missed the opportunity to respond, so he continued.

"Would you care to sit with me?" He asked. Sarah looked around confusedly, there wasn't any furniture in the room. He smiled and with a wave of his hand two chairs suddenly appeared by the windowsill. "I feel standing is becoming a bit awkward." He added, and ushered her to take a seat. She tried not to tiptoe passed him as she took the nearest chair. He smiled down at her as she moved past, his eyes roaming languidly over her, taking in her bizarre appearance, and joined her as soon as she was situated.

A small alarm was going off somewhere in the back of her mind, telling her it would be best to find Jareth; but she ignored it, and tried not to fidget in her chair.

"Let me start this conversation by saying that Jareth will be crashing our party within the next few minutes. So, if you wouldn't mind, I would like to be rather blunt with you." His tone took on a surprising business-like quality, but his expression remained the pinnacle of cheer. He gave her a reassuring smirk and tilted his head to one side.

"Um, alright." She answered, and sat up in her seat.

"Wonderful. First, I would like to tell you that you are an extremely beautiful woman and I can see why my brother has chosen to keep you all to himself."

Sarah gaped a bit. _Ok, so I guess he meant it when he said he was going to be blunt..._ She felt her cheeks flush involuntarily, and she darted her eyes away to compose herself. She was always a sucker for fluffy compliments.

"Thank you..." She replied, and bashfully tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Second, I am hurt that my brother has kept you such a secret from me -from everyone it would seem. Marriage is a grand step, especially for one in a position such as he. May I ask how long you and my brother have been engaged in one another?" He asked. Sarah shifted uncomfortably in her chair. His question was acceptable, one that he should have a right to ask. But...

"Um...technically? About a week." She answered, and winced as if the words tasted something foul on her tongue. Davion's brow shot up, rightfully astonished.

"Well then, you must really have him tight at the nape. It is not an easy feat to wrangle my brother into commitment." He said. This time, it was Sarah's brow that shot up, and was quickly followed by a small, unstoppable burst of laughter. Davion's face lit up with her reaction, it was intriguing, and simply delightful.

"Oh dear, I can't begin to tell you how wrong you are." She said, and brought a hand to her chest as she tried to wrangle in her laughter. Davion leaned in, resting his arm on the railing of the window.

"Yes, he can be quite difficult, can't he? Though seeing the radiance of your smile, I wouldn't doubt that to be the case." Sarah's blush just wouldn't quit.

"Thank you, but... I think you're exaggerating things a bit"

"Not at all. Love is nothing but eccentric." He said. Sarah's face fell. Her and Jareth's relationship was based on a lot of things, but love was not one of them. She didn't quite know how to respond to him without giving something away. Clearly, Davion, as everyone would, assumed their engagement was consensual.

Davion watched Sarah's smile fade, which answered a niggling question that he was too gentlemen to ask, but was secretly inquiring to. Well, now things were getting interesting. Time to move the conversation along.

"I hope you don't take offense to this, but I can't help but notice that you're human." He said, distracting her from her loathing rather than love of Jareth. Sarah blinked, as if that statement was just the cold bucket of water she needed.

"Uhhm, yes." She answered, wondering if that fact held any sort of prejudicial impact for her, another worry she held in regards to becoming a member of Fae society.

"I'm just...curious. Given your time frame, how did you and my brother become an item? I've never before met or heard of you. It's very sudden, is all." He'd leaned back in his chair, his posture open and welcoming. She looked up to him, and the warmth in his face seemed to help put her at ease.

"I... ran the Labyrinth, a long time ago. That's when we met." Was all she said. She wasn't really all that comfortable discussing this with a total stranger, she also didn't know what sort of consequences her answers would have. Davion's brow twitched, and his lips curled ever so slightly. But Sarah failed to notice.

"Really? Why ever would you do that?" He asked, as if she were setting him up for a joke. She drew her brow on him, confused. _Isn't that what Jareth does? ..._

"Umm...it's a long story." She answered, saving her confusion with Davion's obliviousness for later.

"Did you win?" He asked, suspenseful and intrigued. Sarah sat back in her seat, and started fidgeting with the hem of her shirt.

"Yeah..." She murmured, and turned at the sound of him shifting in his seat. He was tapping his index finger against his lips, a very Jareth gesture, she noted. She also saw that his gaze was more intense, but on sensing Sarah's observation, he shifted again, reaching for the front of his jacket.

"Would you mind if I took my coat off? It's rather warm in these parts." He asked, in an effort to deter her from observing him too closely. It seemed to work, as her eyes widened a bit as she weighed a response. He grinned, picking up on all her bodily signs that he was affecting her in more ways than one.

"Oh, go ahead." She said, and looked away, but continued watching him out of the corner of her eye. He shrugged out of his cloak and coat, and draped them both over the back of his chair. She tried not to stare. He looked to be a little thicker than Jareth, but it was hard to tell. "Why are you so bundled up?" She asked.

"Jareth hasn't told you much, has he?" He asked, and waited a rhetorical pause before continuing. "I am Warden over the north. That is, I rule the upper half of my brother's kingdom in his stead." He explained, and shot her a quick smirk. "It's a bit chilly up there." Sarah pursed her lips, unable to stop herself as she gave in to fluttery lashes and flirty smiles with Jareth's younger brother.

"I see...wasn't Roldan visiting the north? Does that mean you know what the emergency is?" She asked. Davion laughed, a sound that reminded her nothing of Jareth.

"I am the emergency. Why do you think our conversation is so strained for time? I'm sure right now, Roldan is exclaiming my surprise visit to my dear brother, and in another moment or two, Jareth will be here to spoil our fun." His smile had the kind of mischievous curl that only appears when one knew they were doing something naughty.

"Why? Is there a reason why I shouldn't be talking to you?" She asked. Her voice perked up a bit with sudden anxiety, and the return of her original fears regarding this strange unknown man. But, regardless of how he answered her question, she knew it was too late. And also knew that her anxiety was only half-hearted.

"Quite simply, sweet Sarah, I am not to be trusted." He said, and she would have gone on alert just then if it wasn't for the wink he ended his sentence with. She rolled her eyes at him and smiled.

* * *

"Davion's coming? Why haven't I been notified before hand?" Jareth asked, his irritation sparking anew. Roldan glared and crossed his arms over his chest, mimicking Jareth's previous posture.

"So that he has a chance to meet your bride before you whisk her away under your cape, of course." He answered, sardonically. Jareth huffed. The last thing he needed right now was a surprise visit from his impish brother. No doubt he knew Roldan would leave to warn him. And no doubt he anticipated this moment as a distraction, leaving Sarah alone. He cast a dark scowl in Roldan's direction. He of all people should have seen this coming.

"When will he be arriving?" Jareth asked. Roldan rolled his eyes.

"By now, I'd say he's already here. I can only hope you've kept your woman well concealed." Jareth's expression tensed. There was a level of sarcasm he was willing to take from Roldan, but he was reaching that limit fast. There was something else bothering him, or else he would have made Jareth aware of Davion's arrival as soon as he himself arrived. He made a note to find out what, later.

"In that case, I suggest we greet our guest." Jareth muttered, and turned on a dime as he stalked towards the door. "Oh, and don't think I haven't kept check of your tone. We'll discuss this later."

* * *

Sarah brought a hand to cover her lips as she giggled liked a giddy school girl at Davion's wonderfully witty humor. She couldn't remember the last time she giggled like this. She couldn't remember the last time she felt like this, so caught up in nothing at all. She was well aware of her goo-goo eyes and flirtatious banter, but she really didn't care. Jareth was the one who forced a tie between them. He was the one who considered them to be in a relationship, not her. So, regardless of how adorable Davion's smile was, Sarah's hard-wired sense of spite would have ensured the course of this encounter just the same. With her limited capability to actively fight against Jareth, she decided to use the newfound weapon that was herself, against him. True, it wasn't the wisest idea to consciously try to make him jealous, and therefore angry, but she was determined to wriggle under his skin in any way she could.

"Before our time ends, may I just say that you are a delightful creature, Sarah. And, I look forward to your wedding. I sincerely hope that you smile for my brother just as you have done for me. It has been so long since-"

Sarah's attention turned along with Davion as he cut himself short and glanced off to the side. And she narrowed her eyes on the sly little sneer that crawled on the edge of his lips just before turning her gaze to see what exactly had drawn his attention.

"Ah, Jareth. We were expecting you." Davion said, leaning back comfortably in his chair. Sarah's back straightened and all her hairs stood to full attention as she glazed her eyes over Jareth. He was standing only a few feet away, dead center between her and Davion. She was a little surprised, having not heard him enter the room at all, and wondered just how long he had been there watching her. She felt rightfully exposed, while Davion smiled gallantly.

She examined Jareth's face furiously, trying to decode his emotion. Sadly, he was wearing his mask, the one he wore when trying to be serious and intimidating. She couldn't tell what his mood was. To her, he looked angry, suspicious, amused and at ease all at once. Her eyes darted between the two brothers, and it was only now that she was able to truly compare the two. It was strange, for sharing as many similarities as they did, standing side by side, the two brothers looked remarkably nothing like one another. Hm... Her eyes flickered up as they caught sight of the dark silhouette of a man standing behind Jareth; but she didn't have time to pay much attention to him.

"I wish I could say the same." Jareth answered, and just by the animal hiss of his voice, she could tell he was nothing less than irritated. Shit. She tensed her hands on the arms of her chair as if to stand.

"Yes. I must apologize for my sudden arrival, but how is one to react to such astounding news? It's been a long time since-" Jareth sneered, as if restraining a grimace and peered down at Sarah from the corner of his eye.

"You could have sent a letter." He interrupted. Sarah felt the tug of a frown on her brow, realizing that her decision to rile Jareth was made in ignorance of a few key points; like the standing relationship between Jareth and his brother for one. Was this all good fun? Or had she unwittingly re-sparked some kind of age-long animosity?

Sarah continued to grow more and more stiff. For some reason, she now felt like she was in serious trouble for being alone with Davion. Was there an actual reason for it? Or was Jareth just being domineering? She was so anxious all of the sudden. She couldn't tell if they were having a stand off or a conversation..

"Sarah." Jareth said, in an obvious command for her to stand and join him at his side. She recognized this immediately, clear as day, and yet...

"Yes?" She asked, the slight upturn of her voice feigning ignorance, and inducing a small essence of mockery. Jareth tried not to huff, and glared at her impatiently.

"Could you please stand so that I may properly introduce you?" He asked, fighting to keep his voice level, and urging her to utilize what little manners she had in this one instance and avoid him the perpetual embarrassment that he knew would result from this encounter. She didn't answer, but did as he asked and stood next to him, reluctantly, off to the side. Davion couldn't have looked more amused. "Davion, I'd like to formerly introduce you to my bride, Sarah. Sarah, this is my brother." Sarah crossed her arms over her chest. Already fed up with his stare-down tactic. Was there a reason he was so angry with her? Davion came to her after all.

"Thank you, Jareth. I'm glad that's out of the way." Sarah said, just a tad sarcastically. She was a little bugged with Jareth's agitation- agitation that was being directed at her through his irremovable glare. And while the real reason for her attitude was for the way he was staring at her and nothing else, it came off to those around as if she were being intruded upon. And that was something she had not intended to be conveyed. Jareth's lips twitched in a snarl as he stared down at her. He wanted nothing more than to scream at her for her behavior and haul her off into some dark and secluded place, but had to remind himself that she had yet to be told how to act. While there were things she thought she was putting on in a conscious attempt to rebel, she was unaware of just how serious this line of behavior could be taken if it continued. She rolled her eyes away from him.

She took half a step back, and used her new spot to give her a better vantage point to examine the man standing behind Jareth, and help distract her from her annoyance. He wasn't very tall, about a mid-point between her and Jareth, and he was rather stocky. Or thicker at least, as compared to the other two men who were both tall, lean and languid. He had a blocky face with precision cut lines. She wouldn't say he had wrinkles, as he wasn't old enough for that, but there were defined age lines that made him look worse for wear. He had very dark hair that fell in heavy curls at his shoulder, half of which was pulled back in a pony tale. She couldn't see more than a blurry profile, but he looked as though he were scowling. And for some reason, she couldn't help but think it was because of her as well. _Hmm...that must be Roldan then.. _She brought her attentions back to Jareth.

"She certainly has spirit, doesn't she?" Davion asked.

"Yes, one might argue too much spirit." Jareth spat, and thrust his arm around her waist and jerked her to his side. Her initial reaction was to push away from him, but she refrained and stood awkwardly instead. Davion's smile grew with unknown knowledge, and he stood from his seat.

"Nonsense. It's all about having an appropriate outlet. She'll keep you on your toes, keep things exciting." He said, and stepped past the two, evidently towards Roldan. "Hmm, funny meeting you here. You know, she thought I was you." He said and leaned forward, mockingly as he did so. Roldan remained quiet, but glared more intently. Sarah noticed a new kind of sneer on Davion's face. It was sharper...

"Yes, speaking of which, is there a reason you failed to announce your visit?" Jareth asked. His fingers were steadily tightening on Sarah's hip, communicating to her that he was indeed _not _pleased (mission accomplished). She tried not to snarl, and instead glared off to the side.

"Ah, but my visit was announced, was it not? Roldan?" He asked, raising his brow toward the stoic and brooding Fae. Was there a reason why he wasn't talking? She wondered. Davion's gaze roamed back to Jareth's, and he rolled his head exasperatedly at the scowl he was met with.

"Oh, come brother. Why so hostile? I merely came to offer my blessing. You've found yourself a beautiful young woman, strong and passionate." He said, and threw a glance at Sarah, who gaped hopelessly up at the two. Jareth's gaze followed, and she was totally subdued by the warmth of Davion's stare as it compared to the icy chillness of Jareth's. But, like always, seeing him scowl down at her was the agent that helped her plant her feet firmly on the ground. She pursed her lips, and tried not to glare back up at him, and casually wormed her way out from his hold. Not surprisingly, Jareth refused to go.

"That she is." Jareth responded, keeping his eyes blatantly locked with Sarah's. She stared at him a little harder. Had Jareth ever told her she was beautiful before?

She continued to fight, and with one final jerk, he released her, not wanting to cause a scene. Davion continued to roll his eyes, firmly understanding the inner meaning to Jareth's briskness.

"If you really must know, I failed to announce my arrival because I was hoping to get a chance to actually talk to this mystery woman, without you breathing down her neck and working her like a puppet. You've kept her hidden away for so long, I bet you want nothing more than to lock her up in a tower right now."

Sarah brought a hand to her lips in an effort to stifle her giggle. She'd never heard someone talk that way to Jareth before, well someone besides her. And the whole tower reference was something like an inside joke to her. She stole a peek up at Jareth, wondering if he had caught on as well.

Jareth's glare on her intensified, but he tried to look unaffected. Meanwhile, Davion's face, which was purposefully kept in line with Jareth's, cracked in a small smirk in reaction to Sarah's giggle. There was obviously an interesting dynamic going on between the two. And it wouldn't be right if Davion left it unexploited.

"The thought had crossed my mind." Jareth said, and rose an eyebrow in Sarah's direction. Sarah scowled and took another step away from him. She examined the stern profile of Jareth's face, his creased brow, and tensed jaw. It was obvious Jareth wanted this situation to end, probably so he could vent and take it all out on her once they were alone. She looked back to Davion, and got an idea.

"Davion was telling me a little about the north." She piped up. All three gentlemen turned to look at her then. And their sudden attention made her hesitant to continue, but she mustered the backbone just in time.

"Is that so?" Jareth asked. Sarah nodded.

"Yes. He told me a little bit about his position, and it got me to thinking of all the things you haven't told me-" She felt the dagger that shot from Jareth's stare with that comment, and it only made her stand taller. "I was wondering if perhaps we could continue our conversation over dinner, Davion?" She turned her eyes away from Jareth as she asked that question, not ready to handle the inferno of a stare she knew would be waiting for her.

Davion's face lit up like a Christmas tree, and his mouth actually gaped open as a smile spread far and wide across his face, though she didn't quite understand what was so astonishing about her comment. She heard Roldan shift again, and glanced back to find him glaring at her just as intently as she imagined Jareth was. She crinkled her nose at him. It was enough dealing with Jareth's condescendence, she didn't need it from his lackey too.

"Sarah, I don't think-"

"I would love to." Davion suddenly exclaimed. Sarah's face brightened, reveling in the victory that she had successfully prolonged her eventual scolding from Jareth, and got to further experience the rather entertaining scene playing between him and his brother. It was amusing to see someone other than her getting under his skin; especially after the episode he put her through that morning. Dinner would be her form of payback.

"Davion, you've fled your duties without any preparation. I don't think it would be wise leaving your post unattended any longer than need be. I _insist_ on you returning at once." The way Jareth enunciated his sentence let everyone in the room know that he was playing the King card. There was a pause, before Davion's ears twitched, and he flashed a smirk of defeat, casting his gaze down at Sarah. There was no use in bothering to argue once Jareth settled on a command. He knew that much. Oh well, mission still accomplished.

"Well, it seems I have more important things to do. My apologies, Sarah. It's been a pleasure speaking with you." He said, gently kissed the top of her hand with a most bittersweet, puppy dog expression. Sarah felt herself almost whimper at the display. Though it was obvious he was doing it on purpose, it affected her all the same. She drew her hand away reluctantly, and looked down to the floor, acknowledging her own defeat. Jareth watched her, hounding himself not to give in. Sarah was not ready for interaction with other Fae, and should have been properly warned before being swooned by his brother. The fact of which he saw had already happened, and made him all the more eager to send his brother home.

"I'm sorry. Maybe some other time." She said, not sure what else to say. Davion stood and smiled.

"Please don't frown for me. You should never frown for anyone. I'll be looking forward to seeing you at the celebration." He said, and stepped back to look up at Jareth. "I'll be waiting in the library." He said, and was gone.

Sarah furrowed her brow, her mind still hanging on Davion's last words. _Wait...so he's not leaving? What?_ _What celebration? _She pursed her lips and looked up to Jareth for an answer, and was_ almost_ surprised to find him already staring her down. Except now, the mask was gone, the stone wall that once shaded his eyes was replaced with a myriad of undistinguishable emotions. Was he angry? Relieved? Something? Anything? She couldn't tell. She went to take a step back, when his arm suddenly sprang forward and captured her bicep.

She jumped in surprise, but relaxed when she realized his hold wasn't painful. His eyes narrowed on hers, trying to fathom her emotions the same way she was trying to fathom his. For a moment, it looked like he was on the brink of something, something bad that she recognized all too well. But he stopped himself just in time, and sighed.

"I'll deal with you later." He rumbled, and after nodding to Roldan, quickly stormed away.

* * *

Davion stood, with his back to the door as he awaited the immanent creak of its hinges, announcing Jareth's arrival. No doubt, it would only be another moment or two. He peered out the stretch of windows. Twilight would soon be approaching. He tapped an impatient finger against the top of a desk as he thought over his encounter with Sarah.

True, he was a little disappointed Jareth had dismissed him so quickly; but, he saw it as a victory. They had much to talk about, Jareth and he. _Sarah Williams... __Oh brother, you've certainly been up to something naughty._ He paused his tapping at the sound of the door opening, and glanced back over his shoulder at the sound of Jareth's echoing footsteps, (right on schedule) waiting until he was near before turning around to face him.

"Tell me brother, is there a reason why you haven't killed her yet?"

* * *

  



	20. Hope And It's Other Like-Forms part 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While unbeknown to her, Sarah has succeeded in obtaining the one thing the Goblin King has desired for hundreds of years -power over the Labyrinth. After being hidden for years from his diabolical wrath, Sarah finds herself alone and vulnerable as Jareth's dark desires are finally aloud to rear their ugly heads. As always, the only question is, are things really as they seem?

Chapter 9, Hope And Its Other Like-Forms : Continued.

* * *

Jareth left the room much too abruptly, leaving Sarah stranded and standing awkwardly next to yet another strange man; except this time, instead of being welcomed with cheery smiles, she was shunned by the cold distaste of his glare. Oh how that irked her. She turned to face Roldan, and used the small -momentarily- comfortable silence to better examine him.

His brow was thick and sharply chiseled, heightening the effect of his deep green eyes. His nose was long and sharp as a blade, and his lips were full and round, accenting high cheekbones and a square jaw. It was a much different set of features from that of Jareth and his brother. With that said, he was handsome, in a rugged sort of way. She didn't get to ponder his physical attributes much further however, as the way his mouth twisted in a scowl soon occupied all of her attention. She put on a smile and thrust out a hand to the grumpy looking Roldan.

"Well, since Jareth has failed to introduce us - I'm Sarah, it's a pleasure to meet you." She said, with that beaming little smile of hers, and waited for him to accept her shake.

The intensity in Roldan's stare turned from judgment to conviction, and he actually snarled his lip at her as he peered down from over the tip of his nose.

"Your manners are deplorable." He said.

-What? Sarah blinked dumbly as her hand slowly lowered back to her side. Um, ok. She still had a trace of her smile, which was quickly fading into a scowl. _Excuse me, Asshole?!_

"Excuse me?" She asked, raising her brow in offended aghast. That was quite different from the anticipated _"My name is Roldan, it's a pleasure to meet you"_.

"And your state of dress is abhorring." He added. Sarah's caught-off-guard expression sharpened into something nasty then. _Who the hell does this guy think he is?_ "You should be ashamed for the way you've conducted yourself just now." _Ohhhhh, fuck this guy. _She was not about to let herself be patronized by Jareth's steward. She ground her teeth as she tried to contain herself. Jareth had a knack for plucking at her nerves, but this guy was soon to snap them completely. Was there a reason he was being such a prick? What did she ever do to him?

"And who the Hell are you, exactly? How dare you speak to me so disrespectfully!" She exclaimed, fisting her hands and keeping them locked at her sides. Were servants allowed to talk to her like that? Roldan huffed through his nose and looked away.

"I find it hard to disrespect someone who warrants no respect to begin with." He said. Sarah's eyes were burning with the restraint of her freak out. This guy was supposed to be a servant! How could he speak to her like that? Who the fuck was he to talk about manners and respect and then speak to her so rudely!? Ughhh. Did he talk to Jareth this way? Highly unlikely.

"You have some audacity! You don't even know me! What the Hell is you're problem?! What did I ever do to you!?" She was grinding her foot into the floor at this point and fuming at the ears no doubt. Was Jareth just going to allow him to speak this way to her? What would happen if she told on him? Ugh, guess the butler didn't fall far from the king.

He turned back to face her, examining her face thoroughly before responding. His eyes narrowed, but it didn't come close to the crease in hers. She knew that if he uttered one more insult, she'd lose it. _Go on, I dare you. I effing dare you._

"My apologies Miss." He suddenly said, breaking through the storm of Sarah's frustration. Her expression twitched, but remained solid. "But it is my duty to point out facts that would otherwise be ignored. I can see that you are upset. It was not my intention to offend you." He said, surprisingly sincere, something which Sarah was unable to discern.

_Bullshit!_ Sarah's fire and brimstone glare refused to cease. She took his sincerity as blatant mockery, and refused to step down for even a moment. Seriously? Who did this Fuck think he was? She felt like stomping her foot and storming off to her room. If he were Jareth, she probably would have started clawing at him. At least Jareth was cheeky in his insults, this guy was just an ass._ Great, now I have two condescending, self-righteous, egotistical, ass-hats to deal with. Ugh!_ She muttered to herself, cursing every nasty word she could think of over and over in her head.

"You're something else. It's bad enough I have to deal with Jareth, I don't need this bullshit from you!"

Roldan rose his brow at her, taking in her display for all it was worth. How in the world could this creature be in line for the throne? How in the world could Jareth possibly put up with this? Let alone want to? What in the Underground was going on here? He couldn't understand it, and wanted nothing more than to deposit the girl so he could find and press Jareth on the issue. What had happened in the week he'd been gone? Jareth had a lot of explaining to do.

"Your language is disgusting." He responded with, causing Sarah to fume even more.

"Your blatant disrespect for your superiors is disgusting! Jareth allows you to speak this way?"

"He allows you to, apparently." He retorted. Sarah didn't know what to do. She was so ungodly angry. She didn't think she'd ever been this angry with someone who wasn't Jareth. She wanted to roar at him. As far as first impressions went, this sucked.

"Is there a reason why you're being such a dick?" She asked. Roldan took in a long breath, and it was just then that she realized how well he was retaining the true extent of his irritation.

"I'm just trying to understand the reason why you're here." He answered, with all kinds of prevalent undertone.

"I'm here because Jareth is an evil manipulate deviant. Glad to see I'm not the only one who finds a problem with this." She said, and crossed her arms over her chest like a two-year-old. The intensity in their stares started to dim a bit, as they seemed to acknowledge the root of their irritation with one another as one in the same -ultimately Jareth. It was more than clear that Roldan did not approve of Sarah being here. Maybe they could find some common ground in that, because Sarah didn't approve of her being their either.

"Yes, a lot has happened in the time I've been away. I suppose this goes to show just how helpful my oversight on him is." He said. Sarah's shoulder's eased just a bit, sensing the end of their confrontation. The tension in his voice was gone now as well. Her slightly clearer head got her to thinking, _Hm. Maybe he was just stating facts.. How could someone be so indignant and indifferent at the same time? Jareth isn't even that good at controlling himself._

"Apparently." Was all she answered with, still stuck on being coarse with him.

"Are you finished venting?" He asked. Sarah glared, his statement drawing immediate parallels to Jareth. She didn't say anything, but pursed her lips at him. "Good. Now, come." He said, and turned on his heel. Sarah stomped in her place. There was no way she was taking orders from this guy.

"Where exactly are we going?" She asked.

"I am to take you back to your room until His Majesty sees fit to release you."

"No."

Roldan paused in his step, and turned around, slowly.

"What?" There was something unbelievable in his voice, something that turned her one simple word, into the most sacred taboo. _No? Did she just say No?_ Sarah stood her ground. She was not about to let herself be dragged to time-out.

"I'm not going anywhere with you." She stated, and watched the recalculation as it played out across Roldan's face. It was as if he didn't understand, and hadn't for a single moment expected, her response. He looked... put off.

"I am under express orders to escort you back to your chambers." He iterated.

"And what if I don't want to go back to my room?" Sarah countered, knowing very well that she'd had this same exact argument with Jareth just a few days ago. _Well screw Jareth! Jareth isn't here! And if he expects me to be bossed around by this guy, then he's got another thing coming! _Roldan continued to grow more and more agitated, as if he had no idea how to handle the situation. It was then that she realized that he probably wasn't used to people refusing him, or more importantly, Jareth. _Hummmph_.

"What you want is of no consequence. The King has ordered you to return to your room, and so you will."

"And at what point in time did he tell you that?" She asked. She waited for some retort, but he remained silent. "If Jareth wants me to go back to my room he could have very well asked me himself. I don't need his lackey pushing me around." She bit out. Roldan's shoulders tensed and he took a step towards her.

"And as Queen, I'm saying no."

"The King's word is absolute. And besides, you aren't Queen yet, girl." Sarah crinkled her nose at him.

"I'm still not going."

"You can come with me, or I can take you there. The choice is yours." He huffed. She had to give him props, Jareth would have thrown her to the ground by this point.

Sarah bit the inside of her cheek as she initiated a full on standoff with a supposed servant. Dealing with Jareth's orders was a given, but no one said anything about having to listen to his servants too. Wasn't she supposed to be Queen? Didn't that give her authority over this kind of stuff?

"Jareth considers me his Queen, and as Queen, don't I have authority over the help? If I say something, aren't you supposed to listen?" She asked, having never thought she would have played Jareth as a card for her defense. Normally, she wouldn't play the bitchy Queen card either, but she tried being friendly with him. No, he started this, and he was going to deal with it.

"I serve the King, not the Queen." He said and reached out to take hold of her arm, apparently tired, and ready to end this debate. Sarah jumped back and whipped her arm away from him.

"Don't you touch me!" She exclaimed. Roldan's hand held itself suspended in midair, and his fingers started to curl with frustration. He hadn't even touched her. What a wild little ingrate this woman was! What was Jareth thinking? How was it he allowed her to act this way? How was it he hadn't broken every bone in her body? He felt an almost overwhelming urge to discipline her himself, but as he examined the fire in her eyes, he realized fighting her would only end up in foul repercussions for himself. He lowered his hand and sighed.

"Let me put it this way. I am under orders to bring you back to your room. If I should fail to do this, it would be equal to saying I have defied His Majesty's orders. Which can lead to a great number of negative outcomes for myself. In other words, your actions create consequences for others, and I do not wish to be reprimanded over something so trivial. So please, would you just concede and come with me?" He asked, and let his brow sag with exasperation. He didn't understand what they were even fighting about. Sarah puffed up her chest and turned to step by him.

"Hm, perhaps there's hope for the both of you." She said, and stalked her way towards the door.

* * *

Jareth stopped dead in his tracks. Davion's question hit him with an unexpected flare of both panic and anger, causing him to falter in his step. His back was still to him however, and so he was able to brush off the indiscretion before his brother had the chance to get a good look at him.

"You certainly know how to start a conversation." Jareth answered and paced a little closer. Davion was smiling now, while Jareth was busy trying to glare at the floor.

"I thought I might skip all the pleasantries and simply get to the point of all this."

"What do you want, Davion?" Jareth asked.

"Well, initially, all I wanted was to meet your darling new bride. -And what a darling she is by the way, remind me later to ask you why you've dressed her as an adolescent boy- But now, I feel it's only right that I should know what exactly is going on between you two. After all, this is my kingdom as well." He responded. Jareth tried to remain indifferent to Davion's words, but both knew where this conversation was soon to end up. This was bad. He cursed himself under his breath, he should have never left her alone.

"I'm afraid I don't understand." Jareth said, playing the fool. Davion rolled his eyes.

"Please, let's not play this game. She told me you had her run the Labyrinth." Jareth paused, and gripped the back of a nearby chair as he brought his gaze level with Davion's. He certainly wasn't wasting any time. And as their eyes met, Jareth realized he may be plunging a dagger into his brother's chest within the next few minutes.

"Did she now? It seems I have yet another reason why I must educate my _darling new bride_ on how to keep her mouth shut." He snarled. This was the very reason Sarah needed etiquette training. He couldn't care less about whether she knew her soup from her dessert spoon. What she needed to learn was that Fae communicated with more than just words, and that most verbal conversation was irrelevant to the _actual_ conversation. Little did Sarah know, her encounter with Davion was a lot more serious than she probably realized. Davion leaned back, resting his arms over his chest as he peered mischievously at his older brother.

"I wouldn't worry too much. Such knowledge would only register as peculiar to others." He said.

"And to you?"

"You're not the only heir to the Goblin Throne, Jareth. I suspected it when I realized she was mortal, and I knew what it meant the moment she said she'd won. Why didn't you tell me you were planning this?" He asked. Jareth's demeanor darkened along with the fading sky in the background. This was not a topic he should be discussing with anyone, let alone the one person who stood in the same exact position of gain as he.

"Do you really need to ask that question?" Jareth asked. Davion shrugged.

"I suppose not. It doesn't matter after all. What matters, is that that hellion you call a fiancé holds power over the Labyrinth. And instead of killing her, you're ...marrying her?"

"Cleverly deduced." Jareth said, mockingly and full of distaste. Davion sighed.

"I don't understand you, Jareth. You've obviously been planning this out quite extensively, or else it wouldn't have worked. And I've never known you to be the sharing type."

"And?" Jareth snapped. Davion glared at Jareth's interruption. He was being so rude today.

"And you haven't killed her. You've pushed pause on the grand finale, why?"

"Why are you so interested? I should have you executed for what little knowledge you have now. Why would I give you more?" Jareth warned. Davion would have taken heed of Jareth's threat, if it wasn't for the fact that he knew Jareth would never truly harm him. Discipline him for making a move on his fiancé? Maybe. But, nothing that wouldn't heal.

"Because I like causing trouble." Davion answered, with that sweet and cheeky smile of his.

"Yes...speaking of trouble. I know what you were trying to do with Sarah. She doesn't know the implications of her actions, so any satisfaction you may have gotten is irrelevant. I have enough to deal with having Liana worm her way about, I don't need your mischief adding to that fire."

"Oh, come now. I think she was rather taken with me...and who is Liana?" Davion asked.

"Oh, that's what the Labyrinth is calling itself now." Jareth informed.

"I see..." Davion was about to let his curiosity distract him, but deterred himself when he realized Jareth was purposefully trying to mislead him. "But, before we go on a tangent, perhaps you would be so kind as to answer my original question?" He asked.

"It'd be pointless to go through the trouble of marrying someone whom I intended to kill, now wouldn't it?" Jareth asked, rhetorically. Davion started tapping a contemplative finger against his lips, lips that were slowly curling into a delicious sneer of victory.

"Yes, that would be rather pointless..." His voice trailed off as he gathered his thoughts. "So, you're marrying a human, a rash and emotional teenager at that, who happens to have the one thing that's been plaguing your rulership since your crowning? You're going through all this effort to conform her, embarrassing yourself shamelessly along the way. You set all this up, knowingly put yourself in this position, and yet you won't do the easy thing and take it-"

"There is more than one way to secure the hold from her." Jareth interjected. Davion quirked an eyebrow.

"Ah, hence the reason you've kept her so ignorant then? The less she know? -A course of action that should be reevaluated, I might add- You think you can maneuver her into giving it to you? Well, you were always one for a good challenge." He said, observing all the uncomfortable shifting around Jareth was trying to hide. "But...I don't think that's really it, is it?" He asked. Jareth looked up then, anticipating his next comment. "Oh, Jareth. You're putting yourself through so much trouble. You wouldn't happen to somehow love this girl, would you? Now that would be foolish." He asked, and cracked a small laugh along with it. Jareth copied his brother's posture, trying hard to remain relaxed and composed.

"She's really not as bad as she seems...she can be quite charming at times...when she's not behaving like a petulant child. Not to mention that I haven't yet started educating her on the outside world." He said, almost reluctantly, as if he had been forced to justify himself. Davion kicked his legs out as he leaned further back to sit on the edge of the desk.

"And that petulance wouldn't happen to be the result of her ill-consent in all this, would it?" He asked, and put a hand up at the grim look on Jareth's face. "Relax, she was smart enough not to reveal that much. But, it does beg the question, if you were planning on having it submitted, why didn't you choose someone just a bit more willing?"

"Because my choice of Sarah was not made based on whether or not she would be willing."

"Ah, so you do love her then. I see no other reason why you would subject the both of you to all of this, so don't bother trying to cover it up." He said, and hopped down from the desk. Jareth didn't say anything, still wary of his brother's true intentions, and watched as he walked up and patted Jareth on the chest. "I congratulate you on your tragedy, brother. As that is the only way this will end. In the mean time, I hope love does not prove to be as cumbersome as I hear it is." He said. Jareth rose an eyebrow at his brother, and tried hard not to crack a sarcastic smirk.

"If love is cumbersome, I am sure to be crushed by it before the week is through." Jareth said, with both amusement and exasperation.

"Hmm, no. I have a feeling you'll push her just as hard as she pushes you, and spend the rest of your lives in a beautifully painful deadlock. One of which I can't wait to put myself in the middle of. You'll be the unstoppable force to her immovable object." Davion said, and stepped away. Jareth was starting to ease up with Davion's humor, but knew better than to let his guard down. There was still something else hanging on the end of his tongue, something he was waiting to say.

"Thank you, for the encouragement." Jareth responded.

"Oh, but it won't all be bad. I'm sure that fiery little spirit of hers has its perks...I imagine she is quite -entertaining. She sure smells it. So ripe, she's practically fermenting. Perhaps one day she'll take me as a mate. Imagine all the fun we could have then. Like in the good old days." The sneer on Davion's face sharpened as he called attention to what he thought was perhaps the most riotous aspect of his encounter with Sarah. She had absolutely no idea what she was doing to him, none at all. Her pheromones were running wild, showing no control nor care for herself. It was simply marvelous. She was sure to draw attention at court. He couldn't wait for their engagement party.

"Don't get too excited, brother. You know she didn't know what she was doing. And you would do well not to take advantage of her ignorance again."

"Because you're one to talk." Davion cheered. To him, this conversation was really quite funny, mostly because it was so serious to Jareth. And he wanted to see just how far it could be pushed. "You really haven't bothered to tell her anything? How in the world do you expect her to grasp it all in time for the celebration? You've been keeping her so under thumb...what do you think will happen once she realizes the level of freedom she has? Once she knows just how little control you truly have over her..."

"I will tell her as much as she can handle. She isn't ready to know of court life, yet. But even so, as her husband my word is still final... Why are you so concerned?" Jareth asked.

"Honestly? I'm not. I just find this whole situation a little hysterical." He said, with a wave of the hand. Jareth's scowl turned into a pout. There was nothing funny about what was going on between he and Sarah. "I've been here five minutes and already I can see just how ludicrous and pointless this all is. Maybe I should just kill her... Get it all over with."

The aura surrounding Jareth turned from cautious to deadly in an instant. It was bad enough having to talk about him killing her, a thought which sickened him each time it arose, but to hear the threat from another? His demeanor turned black and violent, but he held back, knowing what might happen should he let his impulses take over. This was his brother after all, if that meant anything. It didn't. Davion saw this reaction, and rose a brow as he watched it slowly retract back into itself. He stiffened a bit, not quite expecting such a dramatic change in mood from him. _Well, now...I must have struck a nerve._ He thought.

"You would dare voice such a threat? To me of all people? Brother or not I am still your King. If you ever lay a hand on her-" Jareth started to rant, but Davion was quick to lurch into action.

"Relax! Relax! Brother, I wasn't serious." Davion exclaimed, jumping down from his seat after fully realizing just how enraged Jareth was right now. He knew from past experience that Jareth's anger was not something you wanted directed at yourself. While he enjoyed poking at his older brother, he understood the limits. And apparently, this was one of them. "You really think I would do so? What would I possibly gain from it? Power over the Labyrinth? That is your aspiration, not mine." He started, keeping a close eye on Jareth's mannerisms. He hadn't backed down any. And the black pool of his stare only hardened. "Sure, holding the Labyrinth would grant me great power, but with it comes an even greater responsibility. You think I want to spend my time watching over that maze, maintaining the balance? Why would I want that? You do that well enough as it is." The dangerous aura surrounding Jareth didn't lessen, but it didn't grow either.

"Just your knowledge of this makes you a threat. You shouldn't have come here, Davion. Family or not, I know better than to trust you. Perhaps it is because we are family." Jareth rumbled. Davion eased just a bit. It was good that he was talking. If Jareth was truly set, he would have acted first and spoken of it after.

"I'm a loose end then, eh?"

"Not to mention the only other heir to the throne."

"Jareth, come now. You really think it has been my life long intention to usurp your throne? I thought you would have gotten it by now that I really couldn't care less. As devious as I admit I am, I am not nearly as devious as you can be. I may like to play games and cause trouble but..." He said, and paused to take a breath. "No, I am a king in my own sense. I rule over a land. I have power, prestige, pedigree, I have everything without even a hint of the responsibility. Tell me, have I ever been one to deny the easiest path? And besides, I'm sure you've got more booby-traps placed around that girl than I have scattered throughout my entire ward. It'd be sheer stupidity to even attempt something of ill-intent." The more logic he rambled, the more Jareth seemed to listen. In this, extremely rare instance, Davion was being completely honest. While it was true that he was the only other Fae to know of the agreement between Jareth and the Labyrinth, he hadn't the slightest desire to do anything about it. He was perfectly comfortable being the playboy that he was.

There was a long pause as each digested Davion's speech. He looked up after a while, and spied Jareth looking bleak and contemplative. There seemed to be more going on than so far admitted.

"When father passed on... We did well to secure the Labyrinth's cooperation. I kept your secret then. Why ever would I risk it now? If I wanted the Labyrinth, I would have done what you are attempting long ago. I had planned this conversation to be amusing, but it would seem things have taken a turn towards the opposite." Davion piped, hoping to breakthrough Jareth's brooding. After a moment, Jareth sighed, and brought a hand to his forehead.

"There is nothing amusing about trying to maneuver Sarah into anything." He muttered, almost under his breath.

* * *

Sarah walked behind Roldan with her arms crossed over her chest, glaring at the back of his head. They were passing through the great hall, and instinctively Sarah turned in the direction of the hall that lead towards her room. She stopped however, after watching Roldan turn and head in the opposite direction.

"Um, where are you going?" She asked. Roldan paused, and glanced back.

"The Queen's chambers, Madam." He answered. Sarah drew her brow, and shook her head.

"My room is down this hall." She said, and pointed in said direction. Curiously, Roldan's brow narrowed as well, and he cautiously stepped towards her.

"My apologies, I am unfamiliar with this. If you would please, lead on." He said, and gestured for her to proceed him. She turned, and took a step.

"Jareth didn't tell you where my room was?" She asked, and could practically feel the annoyance radiating from the man quietly stalking behind her.

"I assumed it was somewhere else. My mistake." He answered. Sarah pursed her lips as she thought this over. (Hmm...) but couldn't come up with any solid conclusions.

Roldan grew more and more apprehensive the further he and Sarah ventured down the hall. He knew the direction in which this hall lead, and didn't want to believe this was where she was leading him. Why would Jareth put her there? It made no sense.

Sarah meanwhile, was enjoying in the new silence, using it to snuff out her previous irritation. _Maybe we just got off on the wrong foot...maybe things don't have to be so harsh._ She told herself, wondering if perhaps she should try to start things over with Roldan. Maybe, in time, she could get him to sympathize with her or something, gain an ally and yet another distraction from Jareth. Just thinking this put a small skip in her step.

They met their destination within a few minutes. She paused in front of the door leading to her room, but upon reaching out for the handle, was rudely cut off by Roldan -who insisted on opening the door for her. She gave him a nod and crossed the threshold. She wasn't sure what would happen now, but was surprised all the same when Roldan shut the door behind him, enclosing them both in the room. She turned to face him, expectantly.

"Shall I fetch your hand-maidens, so they may dress you for supper?" He asked. Sarah stared at him, blankly.

"My what?" She asked.

"Your maidens? Ladies in waiting? Servants?" He clarified, and grew perplexed when her brow twisted uncomfortably.

"I don't have any servants." She said, and couldn't help but sound awkward and out of place. Was she supposed to have servants? If so, why not? Based on the strange look she was getting from Roldan, she wasn't the only one who thought things seemed a bit off.

"I see..." He murmured, lost in some thought. Sarah teetered on her heel.

"And what do you mean, dress me for supper?" She asked.

"Peasant clothing is not suitable attire for a Queen, especially when presenting herself for dinner." He explained. Sarah drew her eyes on him. It seemed Roldan knew even less about Sarah's situation than she did.

"I don't really care what's suitable. I wear what I want." She affirmed.

"His Majesty-"

"It isn't Jareth's decision." She snapped. "I dress how I like, and Jareth hasn't said a word otherwise." She said, which was true. From the first day as his captive, he allowed her to choose her own clothing and hadn't said anything of forcing her to wear a certain attire. She wondered though, if she was getting a glimpse of an un-Jareth-biased based Fae culture through Roldan. Then again, he seemed to be a real tight ass. Maybe he was just being picky. Either way, she was _not_ changing her clothes.

"He allows you to present yourself in rags?" He asked.

"He doesn't _allow_ me anything. I have rights. And, I don't see what it matters anyway, it's not like it's some grand event. Dinner is always served in here." She said, and watched as Roldan's gaze narrowed and began roaming about the room.

"You eat in here? Together?" He asked. Sarah started to grow uncomfortable with the perplexity in his voice.

"Um, yes. Is that odd?" She asked. Roldan's brow rose as he shook his head.

"You are odd." He said. Sarah pouted when he gave a small exasperated laugh. _What is so funny? _"You are to stay in here until His Majesty calls for you." He said, and turned to leave. Sarah's pout lowered into a scowl.

"Hey. Before you leave, let me tell you something that I hope you acknowledge more than Jareth does." She snapped. He turned back just as his hand touched the handle of the door. "I don't respond well to orders. So, if you want us to get along, I suggest you start showing off some of your own manners and ASK when you want me to do something." She lectured, and received a very, very high arch of an eyebrow in response. Roldan rolled his eyes, trying hopelessly to fathom what on Earth Jareth saw in this spiteful little creature.

"My Lady, would you please wait here until His Majesty sends word?" He asked.

"Yes, I will, thank you for asking. Is it really so hard for you people to grasp such a simple concept?" She asked, shaking her head, and then turned and viciously stomped away.

* * *

"Are you sure I can't stay for dinner?" Davion asked, hopefully. The tone of their conversation had lightened considerably over the past few minutes. Jareth seemed more at ease with himself, as Davion hoped he was no longer suspicious of him trying to murder his wife. Though, he understood every ounce of Jareth's caution. Davion was a threat, perhaps the greatest threat to Jareth retrieving power from the girl. And if Jareth truly had no intention of killing her, then all Davion had to do was step up to the plate.

But that was all so serious. And Davion didn't do serious. He was content enough with causing mischief between them as a couple, and wasn't concerned with all this scheming. But, after taking some time to consider everything, he may be able to find a way to use this as a part of his devilry...

"No, you may not." Jareth answered, sternly. Davion pouted, but Jareth's glare only intensified.

"You know, that look would have worked on Sarah." Davion commented.

"I know, hence why you are not allowed anywhere near her until further notice."

"Do you think she'll choose me? I hope she does. She is very beautiful, I will give her that."

Jareth couldn't help but crack a small smile of pride.

"I can't say, but if so, it won't be for quite some time. There are still rules." Davion rolled his eyes.

"Ah, but no time at all! You know how humans are. They reproduce like rabbits!" Davion's smile was wide, and full of excitement for the future. Jareth was sitting now, and kept his head lowered as he watched his brother's display. "I can't believe you haven't had her yet. She's so ripe! She's begging for it! How in the world do you endure it?"

Davion began to ramble, but Jareth wasn't listening anymore, and was slowly drifting off in his own thoughts.

Jareth's inner-self grumbled. This would be the most loathsome of discussions he would have to endure with Sarah in the near future. And he knew she wasn't nearly ready for it. Where should he start? Should he bother at all? Or just lay it all out when the time came? As much as he accepted this aspect of his society, he couldn't help but feel anxious and reluctant about it. And this was most likely because he understood the human notion of monogamy. It was no secret that the core of Jareth's personality was possessive, and he would undoubtedly possess every part of her. She would always be considered _his_; but possession and jealousy were two different things. There was no place in the Fae court for jealously. It simply didn't work. He knew this, but couldn't fight the feeling of discomfort that churned in the pit of his stomach at the thought of Sarah bedding another. And perhaps this feeling arose not from the fact that it was with someone other than him, but from the fact that he would have no say in the matter. Of course, it was more complicated than that; but Davion was right in his concern over how she would react after learning her true place in society. While he did have say over her in most things...there were certain, arguably the most important...decisions that were hers and only hers to make. Oh how he rued the day she found out, and could only pray she wouldn't use it as a weapon of spite against him. He groaned to himself, bringing more personal thoughts of Sarah to mind, and realizing it'd been quite some time since he'd left her in the pool room. No doubt she and Roldan were off to a brilliant start... Great.

He felt very, very tired all of the sudden.

"Say...aside from everything else, how does _Liana_ feel about all this?" Davion asked, plucking Jareth from his brooding.

"I'm not sure yet." Jareth mumbled.

"You're not sure? What do you mean, you're not sure? Is she trying to stop you, or not?" He asked. Jareth shifted, and stood from his seat.

"I don't know. Whatever side she's on, she's being quite irritating about it..." Jareth paused, not sure if he really wanted to say any more, but then realized that he'd told Davion just about everything that he didn't already know, so there wasn't much point in holding back. And on a side note, it actually felt -good- to talk to someone about his worries. "She's been tampering with Sarah's emotions...and I can't understand the reason why." Davion quirked an eyebrow, curious and just as lost on that thought as Jareth.

"That is troublesome..."

"I think it's time you were off." Jareth stated, just now deciding that it was time this conversation ended. Davion knew too much, but it was too late now. There was no way Jareth would be foolish enough to ever trust his brother, but maybe they could somehow work together in this... But, regardless of lingering thoughts of Davion, all Jareth could really think about was Sarah, and grew more and more antsy the longer he kept himself from her.

"As you wish. Thank you for not putting an end to me." Davion replied, and moved towards the door.

"For now. Don't push your luck."

"You're so cross tonight. I hope sweet Sarah is able to perk you up a bit." Davion said, with a laugh. Jareth scowled. "Oohh, too soon?" He added. Jareth shook his head and huffed, neither confirming nor denying his implication. Davion turned, and headed towards the door.


	21. Hope And It's Other Like-Forms part 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While unbeknown to her, Sarah has succeeded in obtaining the one thing the Goblin King has desired for hundreds of years -power over the Labyrinth. After being hidden for years from his diabolical wrath, Sarah finds herself alone and vulnerable as Jareth's dark desires are finally aloud to rear their ugly heads. As always, the only question is, are things really as they seem?

"How the hell does he do this..." Sarah murmured, as she hopelessly fumbled her crystal-encapsulated rose over her fingertips. She flicked her hand, and it unintentionally rolled down her wrist, plopping into the cushion of the chair she'd been sitting in. She groaned, and tried again.

Sarah wasn't sure how long it'd been, but she'd been alone for quite some time now, patiently waiting for Jareth's return, like a good little girl, and had grown a little bored along the way. She was so mad when Roldan left, and had spent a great deal of time pacing anxiously about the room, waiting and anticipating the fight she was dying to have with Jareth. _That man is so irritating! Ughhh! _She still couldn't get over the way Roldan spoke to her, couldn't get over that she couldn't really do anything about it. And the more she thought about it, the more she assumed Jareth would probably end up taking his side anyway. Urg, she should have yelled more when she had the chance. It was useless screaming at Roldan, however -as she found out. No, Roldan was the type to wage war with his stoic silence. That kind of shit irritated her more than anything. At least Jareth fought back, you knew what he was really feeling, he gave you something to work with. Speaking of anger and Jareth, there was the whole Davion issue floating about in the back of her mind. It always seemed that she tried to rile him up, and yet when she was successful, found herself quaking in her boots in fear of the consequences. Seriously? Why do this to herself? But it was too late now, she'd made her bed and now she had to sleep in it. -_urrggghhh_. She _gucked_ at her own turn of phrase, and tried to find a way to be angry with Jareth over the matter. No doubt, Jareth would be broiling when he finally came back, and she needed to be equally ready with her own wall of rage, if she wanted any hope of dealing with that as well.

But, as the minutes started to tick, Sarah found that she was suffocating with her own anger. And realized all this brooding was rather pointless. What could she really do, but wait? What good would it do her to stomp around for God knows how long? No, it'd be best to just put it all on hold and save it. With this in mind, she started looking for other things to occupy her time.

She stopped to clear her head, and in doing so remembered how ungodly hungry she was. She headed over towards the table, and spotted the tiny bell Jareth had given her for just such circumstances. She rang it and waited. A few minutes later, a Goblin showed up with a familiar tray and soon dashed off again. She frowned as she removed the lid, thoughts of her failed attempt to lengthen Davion's stay coming to mind. She wondered if Jareth had an actual reason why he couldn't stay for dinner, or if he was just being Jareth. A part of her told her that she had no right to complain, she'd been trying to make him jealous, angry, after all. It was only expected that he would tell Davion to go home. With that said, she was still disappointed. Davion seemed nice enough, sweet even. Nothing like Jareth...

After dinner, she found herself twiddling her thumbs as she quietly examined every nook and cranny of her room. For as fancy as it was, there really wasn't much there, just a few odd decorations here and there. There was a book case on the other end of the room, but she was too antsy to focus on reading; it would probably be something boring anyway.

On more than one occasion, she would find herself standing in front of the mysterious double doors leading out of her room. One, she knew lead into the hall. The other...she still had no idea. Being alone with nothing but her thoughts spurned her sense of curiosity. She opened the door, but just as before, she couldn't bring herself to venture into the darkness. Where did this door lead to? Why was it so creepy and foreboding? Why did she get such an uncomfortable feeling when ever she opened it?

But regardless of her curiosity, she was supposed to stay put in her room. And while she really couldn't care less about listening to Roldan, she _did_ want to wait for Jareth. She had a lot of questions, odd things that had been pricking her attention all day; Roldan's confusion, Davion's mention of a celebration? It was apparent that there were things Jareth was keeping from those other than Sarah, and she found that to be rather interesting.

And so time passed, until Sarah found herself where she was now, sitting in a chair next to the fire, and mindlessly trying to master the art of juggling crystals. She'd spent more time chasing it across the floor than actually juggling it, but she was determined to at least roll it to the tip of her finger before the night was through. Speaking of which; _attempt number 347_ -

She flicked the ball up her hand. It was supposed to stop, to balance on the tip of her fingers, but it didn't, it kept on going, straight into the air. She gasped and jumped up, fearful of what it might crash into. It vanished from her sight behind a chair, and she dove on her hands and knees in an effort to catch it before it crashed to the ground.

Her knees hit the wooden floorboards with a thud, and she looked around with outstretched hands as she awaited the plummet that never came.

She furrowed her brow, and started glancing about the room. _Wha? Where the hell did it go? _She asked herself. She sat up and leaned back on her heels, and then turned around when a glimmer caught her attention out of the corner of her eye.

She would have jumped, but she'd been mentally building herself up for this moment, so she really wasn't all that surprised to find Jareth sitting in what was once her chair, nonchalantly toying with her magical-disappearing crystal. She stood and stepped towards him. He wasn't looking at her, but knew she was watching, and purposefully twirled her crystal about his hand in a way that laughed in the face of gravity. She rolled her eyes at him.

"When you're done showing off, I'd like that back." She said, hands on hips n' all. Jareth rolled the crystal one final time, before catching it in his hand and tossing it up to her. She turned away, and moved to set it back in its spot on her vanity. She came back, and sat on the couch next to his chair. "How do you do that anyway? Is it magic, or skill?" She asked. Jareth turned, and crossed a leg over his knee at the ankle.

"A little of both." He answered. "I could teach you, if you'd like." He offered. Sarah crossed her arms over her chest. There wasn't yet a reason to be cross with him, so soon; but she'd been building up her frustrations for a few hours now, and it was becoming difficult to hold it in now that he was here.

"I think I'm more comfortable throwing them across the room." She said, poutingly. Jareth cracked a smile and rolled his eyes.

"It seems your mood hasn't improved much from earlier." He said, and sighed. He'd assumed Sarah would be in a foul mood when he came back, but he was hoping she may have let it go by now. How foolish for him to even entertain the idea of hope.

"Yes, well, I've had a rather trying day." Sarah said, sarcastically, and waved her hand up in the air.

"That makes two of us." He said. There was a pause, and both could feel an awkward silence slowly creeping in. It was strange, Sarah thought she would have started screaming at him by now. "So, what would you like to argue about first?" Jareth suddenly interjected. Sarah rose her brow and glanced over to him. He was sitting languidly only a few feet away from her, and slouched towards her with an odd, lopsided grin on his face. She didn't quite know how to discern him. Was he angry? Or was he trying to pick on her? She glared away, and tried to remember all the reasons she was upset with him.

"I think Roldan hates me." She bit out, thinking it would be best to work up to more pressing issues as time progressed.

"Hate is such a strong word." He responded. She glanced at him then, the tone of his voice was just as languid and carefree as his posture. _Is he feeling alright?_ She wondered, but pushed the concern aside, and looked away.

"He was very rude, for no reason. I told him to stop being so disrespectful, and he said he couldn't disrespect someone with no respect to begin with."

"Ah, that's probably because you're dressed like a twelve-year-old boy." He said, with a certain kind of snark that she'd been experiencing far too much of lately. She darted her head towards him, glaring.

"What is it with you people and my clothes? Do I really look that bad?" She practically exclaimed, even tossing her hands in her lap at that. Jareth shifted in his seat.

"No, just inappropriate." He said, Sarah scoffed.

"If there is such a problem with my clothes, then why haven't you said anything? You've been quick to jump down my throat at all my other faults." She asked. Jareth sighed, and rested his jaw on the heel of his hand, seemingly bored with their conversation already.

"Personally, I couldn't care less about how you dress. When it comes down to it, all your fashion really is, is scattered bits of fabric littering the floor after I've ripped it from you." He explained, as if that was the most simple and self-explanatory bit of general knowledge. Sarah scowled. Would the sexual assumptions never cease? He took note of her offense, and continued before she had a chance to retort. "You're a grown woman, fully capable of dressing yourself; as long as you're decently covered, I see no reason to dictate to you otherwise." There, that was a little more appropriate. Sarah looked down as she thought this over.

"So, if you really don't care, why does Roldan have such a stick up his ass?" She asked. Jareth's eyes glared up at her, taking note of each curse word she threw at him.

"His job is to be strict." He answered. Sarah continued to stare, pushing him to continue. "If you haven't noticed yet, I do what ever I want, how and when. I keep Roldan around so that he may provide a just and unbiased perspective on things that I would otherwise disregard; in hopes of preventing me from making any decisions I may come to regret." He started to explain.

"So, what does that have to do with the way I dress?" She interjected.

"His job, is to help keep me in line, and by extension, keep you in line as well. I don't think I need to explain to you why it is improper for a Queen to dress so primitively." Sarah narrowed her eyes a bit.

"You listen to what he says?" She asked. He quirked an eyebrow at her.

"Listen? Yes. Act on? Not always."

"So, what makes his opinion so invaluable?" She asked.

"He's honest."

"He's an ass."

"Mind your tongue."

"Hmmph. I don't like him. He's obscene and offensive." She grumbled, crossing her arms and pouting. Jareth perked up a bit, a little intrigued.

"He's really ruffled your feathers, hasn't he? Glad to see it's because of someone other than me for a change. What did he say that was so offensive?" He asked.

"That my _manners are deplorable_, my _state of dress is abhorring_, my _language is disgusting_ and I have no self-respect." She snapped, glaring hard at the fire. Jareth's lips started twitching with the smirk he tried to suppress.

"Seems fairly accurate."

Sarah scoffed and rolled her eyes at him.

"Whatever, he's supposed to be a servant isn't he? And you want me to be Queen, shouldn't he be a little nicer when speaking to me?" Jareth sighed and slouched back in his chair. He probably should have warned Roldan about Sarah's temper...

"Whatever he said, he didn't mean it personally."

"His disgust seemed pretty genuine to me. And besides, it shouldn't matter. You're okay with him speaking to me that way?"

"His job is to tell us the things we don't want to hear, Sarah. That's why I keep him, he offers the hard truth that we want to ignore."

"Truth? I think he was just being a prick."

"Language." He commented.

"Screw my language! Do you even understand why I'm upset?" She exclaimed.

"Because I'm not the only one who thinks you're in need of firm discipline?" He guessed, mockingly. Sarah almost growled at him. She was trying to have a serious conversation, and he was making fun of her for it. Ugh.

"I'm serious, Jareth! He had no right to act like that! He had no right to talk to me like that, no right to put his hands on me!"

"What?" Jareth interrupted. Sarah was about to go on a tirade, but skidded to a stop at his comment.

"I said, he had no right to touch me." She repeated, and watched him awkwardly as he started staring her down. He didn't say anything, so she thought to explain a little further. "He told me to go back to my room, and I said no. He tried grabbing me but...I didn't let him."

"Hmm...I see."

"Is that considered permissible behavior as well? Because I'll be damned if I let myself be bullied around by the both of you." She started to lecture, but soon lost her thunder when she realized Jareth wasn't actually listening to her. His eyes were cast down, as if he were thinking about something very intently. She scowled, and waited for him to finish.

"Just me then?" He quirked.

"Well, I can't very well stop you now can I? With you being King and all. But I'm Roldan's superior, aren't I?"

"Yes... yYs, you are." He mumbled, lost in whatever thought that was still tugging at his attention. "I'll speak with him."

"Please do."

They were quiet after that, each brooding about one thing or another. Sarah pouted in her seat, scowling down at nothing and trying her best to stay angry. She wanted to fight with him. That was what she'd been waiting for. But it just wasn't happening. She was being spiteful for no real reason. She drew her brow tight, and tried thinking of ways to go about picking a better argument. But, as seconds turned to minutes, she realized she wasn't as angry as she thought she was, and instead of fighting, thought that maybe now would be a good time to voice some of her more perplexing questions.

"Roldan didn't know about me, did he?" She asked. Jareth looked up from his dark contemplations, a little put on the spot by her question.

"No, he's been away. This was all just thrown on him today. I imagine that has something to do with his ... apprehension."

"I can see how news like that could put someone in a foul mood." She said, cattily. Jareth chose to ignore her attitude.

"How could you tell?" He asked. Sarah started shifting around, turning in her spot so she could better face him.

"He was very...confused." She said. Jareth started to grow more attentive then.

"How so?" He asked. Sarah shrugged.

"Well...he started leading me back to my room... but then he went the wrong way, and seemed really put off when I showed him where to go... Then he asked if I wanted him to fetch my hand maidens? Am I supposed to have servants?" She asked.

"Do you want servants?" He asked, deterring her from the rest of her concerning observations. He'd have to have a rather thorough talk with Roldan before the night was through...

Sarah blinked at him, and actually took the time to think that over.

"I...I don't know. Should I already have them? Roldan seemed to assume so..." Jareth shifted so he could sit more properly before responding.

"Sarah, you must understand that not all Fae have such an intimate knowledge of the Aboveground as I do. As I haven't yet explained you to Roldan yet, he probably assumed you were from here."

"From here?"

"Yes. There are humans in the Underground as well. They are few, of course, but their presence in our society is common place." He said. Sarah lowered her eyes as she thought.

"Ok, so what does that have to do with me having ladies in waiting?" She asked.

"If Roldan assumed you were from this world, then he also assumed you are a part of some well-to-do family -an obvious, though incorrect, explanation for our meeting and union- and being from such, you would have brought with you your own maidens to serve you in your new home. As this is not the case, you do not have any, and it is not my obligation to provide them for you." He explained. Sarah remained silent as she digested all of this. There were so many presumptions in and about the outside world. She was having a hard time discerning Jareth's so-called _bias_, from Roldan's, in an effort to figure out some actual, factual, knowledge about the Underground.

"Oh.." She murmured. Jareth leaned in a bit, examining the lost expression on her face.

"Would you like to have your own servants?" He asked. Sarah's head twitched as she registered his voice, and then scowled as she thought.

"Didn't you just say you're not obligated to provide them for me?" She countered.

"Yes... but that doesn't mean I won't. If you want something, all you have to do is ask."

Sarah's scowl continued to deepen, and Jareth didn't quite understand why. Was he missing something? He thought he was helping her. They were having a peaceful conversation. Why was she glaring like that?

"What would I even do with hand maidens?" She asked, but he wasn't sure if she were speaking to him or herself.

"Whatever you want them to do. Most commonly, they help you dress, keep you company, assist you in anything that may require it..." His voice trailed off as he thought of other reasons. He didn't spend excessive amounts of time with women, so it was hard for him to give examples as to the intimate actions of their servants.

Sarah gave Jareth's proposal honest thought. Did she want servants? At first, she couldn't fathom what on Earth she would do with them. She didn't need help getting dressed, and Jareth was doing a pretty good job of keeping her busy. She didn't like ordering people around, and knew she would feel awkward having a bunch of women waiting around for her to do just that. But...the company would be nice. She would have someone to talk to...but then again, they wouldn't be the gal pals she knew back home. They would be Fae women, most likely, hand-picked by Jareth. Did she really want to surround herself with a bunch of pro-Jareth mindsets? Not really. She could just imagine it, trying to vent girl to girl and being shut down, cold in her tracks, by being told that that was the way things were and that she had to obey her husband. Yea...Sarah was liking this idea less and less.

"I...don't think I need any. I mean...I'm perfectly capable of getting through daily life on my own, I don't need any help.." She said, a little uncertainly.

"You may think differently in time..." Jareth mumbled under his breath.

"Why do you say that?" She asked, and watched as his head darted up, apparently not realizing she may have heard him.

"Because you haven't yet been introduced into what will become your daily life." He said. Sarah frowned at that, now because she knew that she really didn't know anything. When was Jareth going to tell her all these things?

"And when will I be introduced?" She asked, trying not to sound too brisk.

"Well, after the show you put on this afternoon, I'd say we should start first thing tomorrow." He said.

"What do you mean show?" She asked, her voice just one level higher. Jareth sighed, and turned his head to look her straight in the eye.

"What did you think of Davion?" He asked. Sarah recoiled a little into her seat. Oh, so they were having _that_ conversation now. She put her hands in her lap and tried to hold her chin high. This could be the opening she was looking for.

"I thought he was very nice...and sweet, and that you should be more like him." She stated, flat and firm. Jareth's expression shifted subtly. It became more rigid, more intense. His eyes, which were up until that point dazed and unfocused, drew on her mischievously, and he rose a finger to tap against the grin he was trying to hide.

"Really? And why is that?" He asked. Sarah didn't seem to catch on.

"Because he wasn't being devious or manipulative. He was appropriately flattering, not crude and offensive. He knew a little something about boundaries, something I don't think you've ever even heard of." She said.

"I see... You don't think he was being manipulative? How would you know if he was manipulating you?" He asked. Sarah drew her brow a little. He was trying to get at something, but knew he wouldn't just spit it out, she needed to dig for it.

"Because there was nothing about our conversation that required manipulation. It was as shallow and lighthearted as discussing the weather." She said, with a wave of the hand.

"And you think words are the only thing that can be manipulated in a conversation?" Jareth asked, rhetorically it seemed.

"Ok, I can tell you're trying to set me up for something. So can you please just skip it and get to the point? Is there a reason why he couldn't stay for dinner?" She asked, letting some of her pent up irritation show through.

"Because you aren't ready for that kind of interaction." He said.

"Aren't ready? Are you kidding me? It was dinner! I think I could have handled it." She exclaimed.

"Eating? Yes, you could have handled _eating_ dinner, if that's what you mean. But I haven't taught you proper etiquette on how to interact with others yet. Your display this afternoon was proof enough of your inability to control yourself. It was embarrassing, quite frankly." He said, all haughty and condescending-like.

"What? What are you even talking about? What etiquette? And how did I fail to control myself? I didn't do anything! I thought I was being rather polite, actually." She was starting to get frustrated now. Why couldn't he just say what he wanted her to figure out? She hated his word games, they were so pointless.

"That's exactly my point, you have no idea what it was you did. And that is simply unacceptable. One of the reasons I've kept you such a secret is so I had time to explain to you the importance of interaction among my people."

"So explain! Geezus! Why are you being so shady about this?" She was sitting up on her knees now, trying hard not to lunge out at him and shake him senseless.

"You want me to be frank with you?" He asked. Her eyes were practically bugging out of her head in exasperation.

"Yes! Please! What did I do that was so horrible? Is that why Roldan was so disgusted? Did I do something I didn't know about?" She asked.

"Before I answer that question, tell me what it was you thought you were doing." The ghostly smile forever churning Jareth's lips grew and grew, but Sarah wasn't paying much attention to it.

"I -I-" She stuttered, not really wanting to admit what she was trying to do. But, it was obvious he already knew, and he didn't seem to be angry about it... "Well...I was a bit snippy with you...I guess that was on purpose...and I..."

"You what?" He urged.

"I...I _may_ have been trying to flirt with your brother. And it _may_ have been in payback for the torment you put me through this morning." She admitted, with a held breath. Aside from all the other obscurities, it always struck her the most odd at how blatantly honest she was with him. When ever he asked her something, she always answered, fully and truthfully. She thought it was because she was afraid of what would happen should he catch her lying but...it seemed to come naturally as well.

"So you were trying to make me jealous then?" He clarified. Sarah's widened eyes darted away, refusing to meet him in the eye.

"That depends... Did it work?" She asked, timidly. Jareth almost laughed.

"No." Her head darted up to him at that.

"No?" She repeated, a little dumbfounded. Jareth, the most controlling, possessive man she'd ever met, wasn't jealous or offended that she'd purposefully tried to goad him over his brother? How was that possible?

"No...You'd have to do a lot more than that to make me jealous, Sarah." He said, and she narrowed her eyes on his smile, as if only noticing its presence just now.

"What do you mean?" She asked, sensing something ominous in the way in which he said that. He lowered his eyes fractionally, and shook his head very subtly.

"That's a conversation for another day." He said, and her brow only grew more and more twisted. What did he mean by that? He didn't leave her much time to be confused over this however, as he started speaking again, calling away her attention. "Back to the one at hand. So, you thought you were engaging in casual conversation in an effort to spite me?" He asked. Sarah stared, using her silence as a signal of confirmation. "I'm glad you care enough to try to make me jealous." He added. Sarah opened her mouth as if to speak, but he raised a hand in a signal to wait. "With that said, do you intend on fucking my younger brother?"

Sarah gaped, openly, and blatantly. There were several things about that question that struck her; first, the fact that Jareth had just used the word fuck. He never cursed, ever. Second, was the sheer bluntness of it; and third, the odd, almost cheerful look that played across his face as he asked it. Her lower jaw rose and fell as she tried to play mental catch up.

"What? No!" The response burst itself out of her, with much more force and volume than anticipated.

"Are you sure?" He asked. Sarah started blushing then, not because she'd been found out or anything, but because she was simply uncomfortable talking about this with Jareth, especially after he'd been pounding notions of their own copulation so adamantly into her head. Why was he speaking so casually about this? Could he really not be angry? Or was this his anger? Masked by indifference? Was he trying to make her squirm?

"Yes, I'm sure! I don't want to have sex with anyone! But regardless of that, I'm supposed to marry you. I don't know about you, but the bond of marriage actually means something to me." She affirmed, which was true. Regardless of her spite against marrying Jareth, she would never conspire to cheat on him. Both because she believed in monogamy, and because she was terrified to death of what might happen should he find out.

"That's good..." Jareth mumbled, his thoughts briefly wandering to where this conversation could lead. There were things about their marriage Sarah was sure to reject, things she was sure to be disgusted with, and yet these were the very things that she might find liberating, and he found that worrisome. But, hopefully, Sarah's just now proclaimed devotion to monogamy would be enough to quell his worry, and maybe even turn it into something positive. There were three ways Sarah could react to that inevitable discussion. She could reject it, she could accept it, or she could utilize it. And it was that third option that gnawed him so. Perhaps in time...when they would both be better adjusted... He shook his head to himself, amazed with the level of emotion he felt over this issue. Never had he brought a single thought to this when making the decision to marry Sarah. But now, it seemed foolish to have ignored it. He wanted to marry Sarah because it fit in with his plan. He hadn't thought of the consequences of what would happen after the fact. _If she wanted to make me jealous... _He looked back to her, shutting out his thoughts. There was a better time to have that conversation, but it wasn't tonight. She was not ready for it yet.

"Why would you ask that anyway? I wasn't flirting that bad." Her voice broke through his minor daze, freeing him from himself just long enough to respond.

"No, you didn't have to."

"What's that supposed to mean?" She asked.

"My people...my people are considered to be connected to nature through our magic." He started, and sounded unsure of just how to say what it was he was trying to explain.

"Yeah?..." She quietly urged.

"We live through our senses...much more intensely than mortals do."

"Ok..."

"When we communicate, it is most often by the release of pheromones and chemicals rather than words." He said. Sarah scowled, just starting to grasp what he was saying. She thought back to that morning, to the strange state Jareth succumbed to while smelling her. _Is that what he meant? Is that why he went all loopy? Oh, shit._ She looked up to him, hoping he would offer more of an explanation. "And your chemical signals, my dear, were running rampant."

Sarah's face fell, feeling horribly embarrassed for reasons she was barely able to understand. She thought -she didn't realize -

"So, while you were harmlessly fluttering your eye lashes, with thoughts of _my_ reaction, my darling baby brother was writhing hopelessly in the scent of your desire." He said, and paused, looking slightly upward as he recalled something. "It really was astounding. I could practically smell you from the hallway. Is he really so charming?" He asked. Sarah could feel her face beating with the pulse of her heart. How fucking embarrassing was this?! Ah, this was so much worse than she thought... He looked to her for a response, but her jaw was clenched so tight there was no hope of her speaking any time soon.

"You're offer to entertain him for dinner was just as easily an invitation into your bed, something he took to heart let me mind you. He was very excited about it. It took me quite some time to convince him you didn't know what you were doing." He said. Sarah just kept sinking lower and lower into her chair.

"So...Davion...you...Roldan?" She asked.

"Could smell your hormonal battle-cry for sex? Yes."

"Oh God." She said, pitifully, and covered her face with her hands. _No wonder Roldan was so disgusted! No wonder he said I should be ashamed of myself! Ugh, Jesus, this is so embarrassing!_ She thought, hammering down on herself over and over.

"Yes...that is the kind of etiquette I'm most interested in teaching you...how to...control...your body...when talking to people." He said, trying to search for the right words. Sarah groaned, drowning in a pool of her own shame. Her hands still covered her face, and she brought her knees up to her chest and flopped onto her side.

"I feel like such an idiot! How is it you're not furious with me?" She uttered, pitifully. She felt so stupid, she must have made such a fool of herself. And what of Jareth? Having to endure that embarrassment in the background? All she wanted to do was twist a harmless thorn in his side.

"Because you didn't know any better, and because Davion did, and yet he took advantage of it. With that said, I'm still no where near happy with you, as none of that can cover up the fact that you still tried to openly disrespect me in the face of others, my own brother at that." He said.

Sarah tensed in her spot on the couch. She wasn't facing Jareth anymore, but could sense the more serious note his voice had taken. Should she be worried after all? She sat up, and scooted a little farther away from him.

"Well, now that all that is out of the way, what do you suppose I should do about the little stunt you've just admitted to pulling?" He asked. Sarah blanched. Shit. He was talking about punishments. She felt herself go rigid. Just the mere mention of his punishments scared the life out of her. She grew extremely anxious then, fearful of him in an instant. Her shoulders tensed, her whole body calling itself to attention.

"Um...let me off with a warning?" She asked. As dreadfully expected, Jareth started laughing.

"Oh, I don't think so. You don't appreciate the way Roldan spoke to you? I don't appreciate the way you speak to me." His voice took on a malicious rumble, a sound both delicious and terrifying. She placed a hand on the seat cushion next to her, preparing to bolt if need be. His smile widened at the panicked look in her eye, and in that moment, a sudden flash of an idea popped into his head. "How about this, given the circumstances, I may be willing to compromise." He said. Sarah narrowed her eyes, but didn't relax any.

"What sort of compromise?" She asked, warily. Jareth held her stare for a moment, before casually rolling his eyes towards a clock.

"Well, the night is still young. How about we start those etiquette lessons you're so dreading?" He proposed.

"Um.."

For as tensed and ready as she was, she found her body immobile as Jareth moved from his chair to join her on the couch.

"We can start with that mouth of yours. How many times have you cursed tonight? Let's see...three? Four? Five times was it? Not to mention your general rudeness and disrespect. I put up with you in private, but the line lowers dramatically outside of that. I will not have you embarrass both yourself and I in matters that are much more serious than you realize." He said. And on closer inspection of his dastardly grin, Sarah found herself jumping from her seat and darting away from him a good ten or so feet. "Why so skittish? I haven't even told you what your punishment is, yet." He said, smiling at her from over the back of the couch.

"I don't care what it is. I don't want it." She snapped, reacting more on instinct that intellect at this point. Jareth rolled his head towards her.

"You know it will be worse for you if you try to run, Sarah. I will catch you eventually." He said, and rose to start stepping towards her.

"Stay away from me!" She cried out in a mild panic, and tried side stepping further away from him. He started shaking his head.

"Really, Sarah? We were having such a calm and rational conversation just now. Don't ruin it." He said. Sarah's eyes widened.

"Ruin it? You want me to let you hurt me! What is rational about that?!" She called out, slowly realizing that all her effort was about to be meaningless. There weren't very many places for her to run off to, and besides, she knew that he would catch her just as he said. But, there was no way she was going down without a fight. -Fight. Yes, fight. This was her opening. This was the confrontation she'd been looking for. She would not let him think it was acceptable to punish her like an animal.

She realized just how close he was now, and jumped away.

"Get away from me, Jareth!"

Jareth sighed. This was really how it was going to be? So much pointless energy...

"Sarah..."

"No! It is not okay that you think you can just punish me when you think I've been bad! I am not an animal!" She yelled.

"Sarah...come here." He patiently ordered, trying his best not to lose his temper with her. She glared and snarled her lip at him.

"No. Leave me alone!"

Jareth lowered his head. She was making him out to be such a monster again, while she had no idea what he had originally planned to be her punishment. He shook his head in exasperation. _She wants me to be the bad guy? Fine._

He rose his head and encroached on her with just a few brisk strides. She tried to dart away, but he captured her by the arms and held her in place. She started flailing against him madly then, as if his hands were made of molten steel.

"Jareth! Stop! Get away from me! Just leave me alone! Please!" She started shrieking, so frantic that he had to actually strengthen his grip rather tightly just to keep her in place.

"Calm down." He growled, though there wasn't true anger in his voice -yet. She wasn't listening however, apparently lost to her own barrage of emotions.

"Don't! Please! Please, don't hurt me! LET GO! I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Please, just don't hurt me. Let go of me!" She was still fighting him viciously, but now her shoulders started to sag, as panic turned to fear and inner turmoil. Her pleas bounced between anger and submission, reflecting her war of emotions. She was staring at the floor, wincing as if she were in incredible pain, and her breathing was hard and sporadic. Jareth scowled down at her. He was sure he wasn't hurting her...She was _so_ overreacting right now. The display of which irritated him. If she would just shut up and listen to what he had to say, she would know he never intended to hurt her. Not all punishments had to be painful...

He tightened his grip on her wrists and jerked her to attention.

"Stop all your thrashing and listen to me." He commanded.

"Listen to you? Why would I listen to you? Just -leave -me -alone." She said, through gritted teeth and jerked herself hard away from him. Jareth scowled harder, and released her hands, watching as she used her own inertia to throw herself to the floor.

Sarah hit the floor with a crash, her mind scattered in a shattered mess about her. She had no idea why, but just the threat of Jareth punishing her brought about an instant state of catatonic panic. All she could think of were all the times he'd attacked her, of the fear she felt, and the horrid look in his eye, and most of all the pain, the horrible, terrifying pain. She remembered the pain she felt in her arm when he'd squeezed it so hard she was sure it had broken, of the sharp crack she felt in the back of her head when he'd thrown her to the floor in the throne room. She didn't want to feel any of it, not the fear, or the panic, or the pain. There was no way she was going through it again. God knows what he had planned for her this time. She was not taking the chance.

He hunkered down, and reached out for her, but she was quick to swat him away, and started back peddling across the floor until she managed to stagger to her feet.

"What is wrong with you? Just when I think we're getting along, when I think you might not be so horrible, you -you -ruin everything!" She cried out, with a fervor that she herself couldn't place. Her voice was growing louder and louder, feeding off her own energy. Jareth's expression was darkening fast, but he refused to let her unravel him. No. He stomped towards her and took her by the shoulders, snarling as he said,

"Stop talking." He snapped, trying his best not to let his anger control him. Why was she reacting this way? Why had she snapped so suddenly? He refused to let her ruin their night like this. She wanted him to be the monster. He would not. He would not let her control him that way. No, he had something better in mind.

"No, I will not stop talking! You can't order me around, Jareth!"

"This display of yours isn't helping." He said, low and slow.

"What are you going to do? Throw me around? Hurt me until I stop screaming at you? Let me tell you something, that won't make me stop!"

"What will then?"

"Leave! Leave me alone and stop! Just stop and go away!" She cried to him. Jareth's stare was blank anger, unable to fathom how in the hell the situation turned to this so quickly. He was getting angry now, not so much at Sarah, but at the situation in general. "Do you have any idea how much I hate you?" She bit out.

Jareth froze. There was a snap in the air, something he wasn't anticipating. He held Sarah by the shoulders, and started squeezing -hard. She bit her lower lip in an effort to suppress the pain, burning him with the rage in her stare.

"You don't mean that." He growled, and pushed her away from him. She stumbled back, gathering herself before launching another attack.

"No, I don't. But I should. I wish I did. I have every reason to. Why shouldn't I hate someone who abuses me?" Jareth winced distastefully, and stomped his way to her. She held her ground this time however, fisting her hands at her sides.

"Why are you doing this?" He asked, full of exasperation and rage. There was no reason for her to be acting so neurotically.

Sarah thought over Jareth's question in a nanosecond. Why was she doing this? Was he really asking her that? Why was she doing this? _Because he's trying to hurt you! _Her conscience exclaimed. _He thinks he can control you! Push you into submission! You're not his dog Sarah! Fight him! You've been waiting for this! You need this!_ But as she worked her way through the rampage of her thoughts, she found she was still asking the same question. Why? Weren't they being rather complacent just a few minutes ago? What changed...what sparked? And that was when she realized the real reason she was losing her shit right now. She _wanted_ to. Hadn't she been pacing her room for hours just thinking about it? Hadn't she been waiting for Jareth's return for the sole reason that she would fight him? Wasn't she looking for any excuse to be angry with him? Like she always was? She wanted this. She was making this happen, and she needed it to happen. With all her pent up frustrations...she didn't know what else to do with them but send them full force at the one person who could take it. She wanted this fight. She wanted him to fight back. Why was she afraid? Why was she doing this?

"Because I can." She said, and with that one, simple sentence, a resolve she didn't know she had surfaced and washed over her in a wave of twisted ascension.

"...What?" Jareth asked, his voice just barely balancing on his own meltdown. THAT was her justification for all this? Because she could? She was causing so much pointless drama out of spite? Why?! Where was the logic in that? He couldn't understand, and in his inability, grew insanely irritated. This woman...he wanted to take her by the throat and throttle her.

He lurched forward suddenly, putting only a centimeter between them, and snarled down at her, growing more and more frustrated with the stone cold glare he was met with.

"You spiteful wretch of a woman. Do you have any idea how infuriating you are?" He asked, grinding his teeth and wincing as if speaking were the most painful thing he had experienced.

"Leave me alone, and you won't have to deal with me."

Jareth closed his eyes and took a deep breath. What could possibly be going on in that neurotic little head of hers? What was it about her that brought him to the point of ripping his hair out instead of hers? He wanted to break her so badly his hands were trembling with the restraint of it, but something was holding him back. His heart started to pound, just as hers started to settle. She was doing this on purpose then? Fighting him on purpose? Trying to make him fight her back on purpose? Why?!

"What is wrong with you? Why are you fighting me?" He snapped.

"I've had a rather trying day, and you happen to be in my line of fire." She said. Jareth let out the breath he was holding, his shoulders relaxing barely enough to say so. They were each quiet a moment, letting each other settle down some before picking back up.

"Is that so?" He asked, and sighed.

"Are you still going to hurt me?" She asked.

"If you would have shut up and listened to me, you would know I wasn't planning on hurting you at all." He said, and with that, some of the tension lifted from them both.

"What were you going to do?" She asked.

"Oh, now you're listening."

"Now that I know pain is off the table, yes." She said, and practically stomped her foot at him. Jareth took another deep breath, readying himself for his next sentence. _This is unbelievable... _He thought, his sneer tensing as he ground his teeth.

"Let's play a game."

There was a pause. Sarah took a step back. What?

"What kind of game?" She asked.

"That depends, do you still want me to leave you alone?" He asked. Sarah furrowed her brow.

"Yes." She said, warily, a feeling that intensified when a sly smile began piercing Jareth's lips.

"How about this; if you can be quite for FIVE minutes, I will leave you alone for the rest of the night." He said, slowly. Sarah turned her shoulder to him. Hmm...that seemed too easy, especially after the meltdown they'd just barely avoided.

"And if I'm not?" She asked.

"Then you have to stop fighting me for the remainder of the evening."

Sarah stood her ground, thinking over every possible loophole in Jareth's words. This seemed...too simple. There had to be a catch. He wasn't nearly as angry as he normally was. She glanced over him, running her eyes from nose to foot and back again. He was waiting for her answer.

"What's the catch?" She asked. He shook his head.

"No catch. Just stop -talking. Stop yelling. Stop cursing, for five minutes. Think you can handle that?"

She narrowed his eyes on him, suspicion pouring heavily out of her every pore. There wasn't a fiber in her being that told her she should trust him, but just the way in which he spoke told her just how tired he was. Maybe...maybe it was that simple?

"And this is my punishment?" She asked. Jareth started to sag.

"This is my compromise. Take it or leave it." He said. She pursed her lips, giving him one final glare before exhaling through her nose.

"Fine." She said, and watched as Jareth turned and raised his arm in the direction of the window. He started twirling his finger, and slowly, a clock began to materialize in the room. It's numbers only going up to five. He turned back, and she was utterly frozen in place by the wicked, melting, glowing sneer of total fucking victory that met her.

"Wonderful, we'll start now." He said, and in one swoop of his arms, lifted her up and threw her onto the bed.

  



	22. Hope And It's Other Like-Forms part 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While unbeknown to her, Sarah has succeeded in obtaining the one thing the Goblin King has desired for hundreds of years -power over the Labyrinth. After being hidden for years from his diabolical wrath, Sarah finds herself alone and vulnerable as Jareth's dark desires are finally aloud to rear their ugly heads. As always, the only question is, are things really as they seem?

Sarah gasped as she hit the soft plush of her bed with a quiet thud, and sank into the fabric. She didn't have the chance to think about what was happening when Jareth was suddenly on her. He straddled her waist, and took hold of her flailing arms and pinned them down to her side.

"Jareth? What the Hell are you doing?!" She screamed, fighting him tooth and nail in a pointless effort to escape. He smiled like deviant, and bent down to bring himself more level with her.

"Ah, ah, ah. Strike one. Two more, and you lose." He said, and pushed her arms high above her head and magically shackled them in place.

Sarah's panic level rose to Defcon 1 as she realized the stupidity of her decision. She knew better than to accept any sort of challenge from Jareth. _Stupid! Stupid!_ She pulled against the bonds on her wrists, but met no avail. Her heart was beating so fast she thought it might burst from her chest. She looked to Jareth, hopeless and pleading. There was no room for anger yet. He leaned over further, resting on his hands as he stared at her.

"You make a habit of trying my patience. You misbehave on purpose, knowing full well the consequences, and yet refuse to accept them. You pick fights with me, make me sick with my own rage, all because you think you can? You say you're so frustrated you have no choice but to lash out at me? Is that it? Well, I think I know a better way to help you relieve some of that tension." He said, and gripped the sheets tightly. "You agreed to this, Sarah. Five minutes. If you can stay quiet for five minutes, I will leave. I will leave peacefully and not bother you for the rest of the night. But if you can't. If you can't hold that tameless tongue of yours for five meager minutes, you have to stop fighting me, and let me do what ever I want to you until the sun comes up." He said, and locked eyes with her to make sure she fully understood what he was saying.

Sarah's eyes widened until they were the size of dinner plates. He was really going to do this to her? What was even happening? What the fuck? She felt her chest expand, about to unleash all Hell on him, but the glimmer in his eye caused her to suck in her lips and clench her jaw tight. Shit, he was serious. She let out a breath, rethinking her situation. Five minutes. What can he really do in five minutes?

"Before we start, let me make this a lesson by explaining what this will do for you." He started, smiling gallantly at her silent glare. "You have a problem controlling on what comes out of that pouting little mouth of yours. This will help teach you restraint, and consideration. We will also be tackling the problem of your over-burgeoning pheromones."

Sarah's entire body tensed at that. What? What does he mean pheromones? How-

"You have an excess of hormones spilling out of you, with no where to go. It's difficult for you to control because there is simply too much to control. The most logical solution to this, would be to exhaust them, find them someplace to go. Give them an appropriate -outlet- if you will." The more Jareth talked, the more Sarah dreaded the next five minutes. He was doing this on purpose, talking it up and psyching her out. As if this situation wasn't bad enough. "You think you can just attack me when you're frustrated, Sarah? I'm going to show you that there are better ways to go about relieving your frustrations." He said.

He sat back on his heels, and turned towards the clock floating off to the side. Sarah's eyes followed the line of his arm as it stretch out once again, and watched as he turned his index finger in a slow circular motion. She practically lurched up off the bed when she realized he'd reduced the speed of the clock by tenfold. Each second now stretched to ten.

"WHAT! That's not fair!" She screamed, and started jerking against her restraints. Jareth turned back to face her, laughing softly.

"Strike two. One more little outburst, and I win."

Sarah's heart fell to the pit of her stomach. If she spoke one more time, he would stay. He wouldn't let her go, and he would do God knows what to her for as long as he wanted. But if she stayed quiet, he would leave. But he'd just stretched five minutes to fifty. Could she keep quite for almost an hour? Fuck no. But, but she couldn't say anything. She had a decision to make, an hour, or the entire night. Her pride, or her body. What was he even going to do to her anyway? How far would be go? She bit the inside of her cheek and tried bucking him off of her. No one said anything about not fighting.

Jareth leaned over her, her wiggling body having no effect on him whatsoever, and brushed the hair away from her neck. He lowered himself, pressing flush against her and ran a finger along the collar of her shirt.

"Do you remember this morning? And our discussion about sexual activities? You're lack of which is what is causing you to fester so deliciously. You said you didn't want what I was offering you...and I said you didn't know what it was you were refusing?" He asked, rhetorically of course. "Well...I think it's time I gave you a small taste of what it is you want no part of. Maybe, before the night is through, you'll reconsider my offer." He said, and hooked a knuckle under her chin, pushing her up as he pressed his lips to hers.

Of course, Sarah did not for one moment even entertain the thought of responding. She kept her lips pressed tight together, refusing to give him anything, and tried turning her head away. He didn't seem to mind this, and instead kissed along her jaw and began to travel down her neck.

Her breathing escalated quickly, becoming more frantic the closer Jareth neared her heart. He rose his hands, and pulled off his gloves, tossing them aimlessly across the room. His lips were working their way over her chest, and his hands slowly traveled up and began undoing each button on her blouse.

Sarah gave an involuntary, panicky shriek in the back of her throat, and tried bucking against him once more. It was useless however, as all Jareth had to do was use the weight of his body to hold her still. He kissed a line across her chest as his hands worked free the final button. He reared up a little, and brushed open her shirt.

Their eyes locked, and Sarah felt herself blush like she'd never blushed before, and gulped as her teeth ground against each other. Jareth seemed very serious all of the sudden, determined, and ruthless. It was terrifying, and sinfully erotic. She hated it. She was so angry, but surprisingly, not with him. She was angry with herself, for allowing him to trick her so easily. So much had happened today, so much had happened between them today. Was this really how it was going to end? Ugh, this was literally going to be the longest five minutes of her life.

Wordlessly, Jareth leaned forward once more, and resumed his trail of feather light kisses down her sternum, pausing between the hallow of her breasts.

"Your heart is beating so fast...It's like you've caged a hummingbird between your ribs." He said, and carried on. She felt herself gasp, accidentally raising her chest up into him.

His hands splayed around the sides of her ribcage, holding her suspended just slightly. He nipped at the junction of her bra, and after crossing over it to more skin, pressed a hot, open mouth kiss hard and wet to the center of her abdomen. His hands started to wander, conforming to her body and taking in every curve they came across. His kisses traveled downwards, making a ring around her navel. She continued to struggle, but was quickly realizing it was a war already lost. She looked to the clock for hope, and almost died when she saw it had only been three seconds.

He shifted himself further down her body, and leaned up again. He nipped along the waist of her pants, dipping his tongue under the band as his hands made short work to the button in the center. She drew her legs together, and tried to focus on her breathing. It wasn't working. She thought about kicking him, but he was straddling her knees, and she couldn't move them in the slightest.

His hands gripped the fabric of her pants, and began to slowly pull down. She closed her eyes, and whined. She wanted nothing more than to give up. But she couldn't. She had to hold out. She felt the warm comfort of her pants as they were delicately maneuvered down her legs, and felt a brisk chill that came with their absence. In one final tug, he pulled her pants, along with her shoes, down and off of her. Instinctively, she drew her knees up to her, in a ball, trying to cover herself from him, and whimpered when he reached up, grasped her knee, and yanked them back down again. He re-straddled her knees, and ran his hands up and down the length of her thighs.

"You look so beautiful sprawled out like this." He said, and Sarah couldn't help but feel a hot pang in her chest at the way his words vibrated through the air. She looked away, disgusted. She should not be enjoying this. Not for one single moment.

In a flash, he was laying out against her again, his hands now running up the length of her arms. She took a deep breath, and opened her eyes.

"I want you to relax. This isn't meant to punish you. After the long day we've had...I think we both deserve a bit of release." He said. Sarah's eyes widened, aghast, and never before had she wished to be a mime. How dare he! She was in no way consenting to this! He was- he was- molesting her right now! Plain and simple. She thought about spitting at him, but wisely decided against it. "I wish you would have told me more about your past experiences, so I know more of where to start...But I suppose the basics are as good a start as any." He said, and while keeping his gaze locked with hers, ran his hand down the side of her, and gently squeezed at her breast. She may have yelped, but the sound was drowned out in the back of her throat. His grip became more firm, gently massaging her covered breast. He looked away from her then, watching his own movements, and pushed harder, raising her breast so it perked higher up her chest. "I don't much care for these things." He mumbled to himself, and moved his hand higher to dip under the cup of her bra. She tensed up immediately, and winced as if he'd burned her, biting her lip and huffing and puffing through her nose.

He paused then, as something clicked in his head. He moved off of her, off the bed completely, and walked towards the end post. She opened her eyes, and peered anxiously at him. He bent down, so she couldn't see what he was doing. When he stood however, she didn't quite understand what he was holding.

He had a -a scarf? A purple scarf in his hand. Why? How? That was when she remembered. She remembered, her first morning here, when he'd thrown the snake at her face...and it turned into a scarf. He'd tied it around her bed post... What was he doing with it now? He walked back, and crawled up her legs.

"I think this might help you relax, a little." He said, and reached up to tie it around her head. She thrashed against him. There was no fucking way she was letting him blindfold her._How is that supposed to help me relax?_ She wanted to scream at him. If she was blindfolded, she couldn't see the clock, but more importantly, she couldn't she what he was doing to her.

She huffed and puffed, but ultimately, Jareth got his way, and secured the bit of cloth tight around her eyes. She huffed, and threw her head back into the bed, feeling more on guard than before; but wasn't ready when he suddenly kissed her. She gasped and drew in a breath, which in turn granted Jareth some small form of access as he kissed her deeper.

"Relax. Feel my touch. Don't think about it. This isn't life or death. Just pretend this is one of your dreams, and enjoy." He murmured and moved away from her.

The pound of Sarah's heart was drowned out only by the sound of her breathing as her chest heaved faster and faster. She couldn't feel Jareth anymore. She couldn't see him. She had no idea where he was or what he was going to do. Lost in darkness only heightened her other senses, which combined with her anxiety, made her think that she would explode from even the slightest pin prick. How was blindfolding her supposed to help again?

It seemed as though decades were passing as she waited. She couldn't hear anything, couldn't feel any movement. What was he doing? Was he still there? Then suddenly, before her mind could crack any further, she felt the warm pressure of Jareth's hand as it pressed against the inside of her thigh, and caressed upwards. She whimpered in the back of her throat. _Pretend this is a dream? Fuck that!_ She squeezed her legs tighter together, trying to block him from reaching his destination.

He pulled his hand from the trap of her thighs, and instead ran the tips of his fingers under the band of her underwear. She sucked in her stomach on reflex, in any effort of getting away. His hand moved up then, up the center of her stomach and over her breast. He leaned forward, and kissed along her stomach. He watched the way her legs trembled, and could hear the erratic pounding of her heart. He sighed, blowing warm air out over her quivering skin. This wasn't going to work if she didn't relax. He leaned up, and brushed away a lock of hair that had clung itself to her face. She twitched at the surprise of his touch.

"Are you really so afraid of me?" He asked. Not surprisingly, she said nothing. He looked down, over her ripe and quivering body, bringing together another hopeful thought. "Sarah, I can smell you. You're burning right now. Burning to be touched... Who knows, you may even lose some of that temper afterwards..." He tilted his head as he lazily traced along the line of her bra. "I'm going to ask you a question, and I want you to answer -no penalty." He said. Sarah's ears perked up. "Do you enjoy fighting with me?" He asked. Sarah frowned. Why was he asking her that? She opened her mouth to respond. "I want an honest answer." He added.

"I - ...yes."

"Why?" He asked, and waited. "No penalty." He quickly added. Sarah turned her head away from him, uncomfortably. Why was he asking of this now? In the middle of molesting her?

"Because...because I can't give in to you. I can't let you win." She muttered, shamefully. Why was she telling Jareth all this?

"I'm not asking you to give in." He said. Sarah pursed her lips. "If I promise not to fuck you, will you relax?" He asked. Sarah didn't respond, but the immediate lax that washed over her body was answer enough. Was that what she was so worried about? That he would rape her? How many times had he told her otherwise? He lowered his head, and kissed the lip she was gnawing at so viciously. "You're going to enjoy this, I'll make sure of it." He said, and pulled away.

Sarah teetered on the edge of an emotional cliff as she waged war over whether or not to heed Jareth's words. _He said he wouldn't have sex with me...that means this is just foreplay, right? But, that shouldn't matter! He's still molesting me against my will!_ Her thoughts screamed one contradiction after another. She knew this was wrong, she knew she should be fighting him tooth and nail, but her body seemed to have other plans. There was no getting away, and knowing this, allowed the dark and nasty part of her subconscious to tell her that this_ could_ be like one of her dreams. This was going to happen one way or another, why not just swallow her pride and try to enjoy it? She snarled, and pushed those thoughts back into the murky depths from which they came. No. She had no choice but to lay back and take it, but she would not give him the satisfaction of her writhing. And so she fought and fought, keeping perfectly still all the while.

But, regardless of her opinions, she did feel tremendously more relaxed after Jareth's promise. She was no way on board for this backhanded, twisted little game of his, however. What was she supposed to do? Aside from the obvious and not talk? How far would this go? She wished she knew what time it was.

Jareth moved down the bed, and ran the tips of his fingers up her thigh once more. She was tense, but it was more from anticipation than from fear at this point. He inhaled through his nose, savoring the sweet smell of her arousal that blossomed feverishly against her better wishes. He felt his own desires flare, but pushed it away. This was about her, not him. If he could introduce her to this -leaving her wanting, and curious - perhaps things would work out in the long run. But for now, he knew to keep his head about him. This was still a game in every sense. His hand continued upward until he brushed over the sensitive mound at the apex of her thighs. She took in a sharp breath and jerked. He pushed his hand downward, grazing flat-palmed over her cleft. She jerked again, and pushed her legs tighter together.

He pulled his hand free, and jerked apart her legs, moving to sit over one, ensuring she couldn't cut him off again. After he was secure, he brought his hand back to the flaming hotspot between her thighs. He pushed his fingers against her, firmly and rhythmically, and closed his eyes as he savored the heat.

Sarah was quiet. Dead quiet. She lay utterly frozen, unable to actually react to Jareth's actions in any way. Her thoughts were a mad house however, lecturing her conscious mind not to pay any attention to him, to just lay through it until the five minutes were up. But she was having a hard time ignoring the feeling of his massaging her _there_. He was right, you couldn't actually feel anything in a dream... There was a crack in her armor, and a small, almost invisible roll of her hips seeped through.

Jareth inhaled sharply at the feeling of her press up against him, subconsciously no doubt. He lowered himself, and began kissing up her knee as his fingers pressed harder, moving in rhythmic circles around her pleasure center.

Before she knew it, his hand had moved lower, and dipped beneath the hot and steamy fabric of her panties. This new, more intense contact caught her off guard. His fingers were both warm and cool all at once, and skillfully pushed and dipped between her folds, spreading her. She opened her mouth and arched her back, an action that she quickly counteracted, and instead tried, painfully almost, to keep herself glued to the mattress.

Jareth's lips were slowly meandering up the length of her thigh, inching closer and closer to the radiance of heat already flushing his senses. At once point, it was almost too much. He bit down on the flesh of her thigh, and thrust two of his fingers inside of her, pushing as far as her body would let him, and stretching her wide, feeling every bit of warmth and wetness she had to offer.

Sarah let out a hoarse, almost cough like moan, as she lurched off the bed. She couldn't see what was happening, so every little movement came as a tantalizing, horrid, surprise. He started sucking on the artery on the inside of her thigh, plunging his fingers viciously in and out of her. The way he curled his fingers made her squirm, and caused her face to grow hot as she tried to fight off her body's reaction to him. Her mouth refused to close, taking in one heavy breath after another.

She'd never felt anything like this before, anything this remotely intense, and all he was doing was fingering her. Maybe it was because she was blindfolded. Maybe it was because she was scared to death. Either way, she found that she could only watch as her body began to push and pull against him, though it was no longer fighting to get away.

Feeling Sarah's body betray itself, Jareth removed his lips from her thigh and kissed the short trial between there and her cleft. He kissed and bit at the fabric of her underwear, breathing hot air into her now sensitized flesh.

Sarah squirmed, feeling both ashamed and embarrassed for what Jareth was doing, and what she was doing in response. She felt the heat of his lips on her, felt the moisture of his tongue through her panties, and she couldn't do anything about it. She hated it. She was revolted. And yet...

Suddenly, Jareth's free hand reached down and pushed the lace of her underwear out of the way. His mouth latched into her newly exposed flesh and sucked, swirling his tongue around her center and flicking at her poor unprepared bundle of nerves. As he did this, he thrust a third finger into her, pushing her apart and hitting every pleasure button he could find. He was precise and matriculate, never once faltering from his concentration. Fuck!

Sarah arched so high off the bed she thought she may have broken her back. The quick and sudden impact of Jareth's wonderfully wet mouth hit her like a brick wall. She shrieked, refusing to let it turn into a moan, and held herself suspended as she endured his onslaught. She felt every movement of his fingers, every flick of his tongue. She felt a heat rising in her cheeks and she was helpless to stop it. And in that brief moment of suspension, couldn't deny the fact that she didn't want to. Her chest became heavier and heavier as she heaved for breaths that did nothing to quell the lightheaded feeling that was quick to consume her entire body. She tensed her legs against him, struggling against the churning, burning sensation pounding through her. The more intense it became, the more it consumed her. She knew this feeling. She knew this heat. She'd felt something similar to it -that morning. But as she now realized, her own self pleasure compared nothing to this. Nothing to the downfall of morale she was letting Jareth drag her into. She heard herself moan against her will as every muscle in her body clenched, and then released in a slow, shameful euphoria.

Jareth removed his fingers, and sat up over her. He licked one while pulling up the blindfold concealing Sarah's eyes. She had a terrified and flighty look on her face, while Jareth's smile couldn't have beamed any brighter.

"Well, that was much too easy. How long has it been?" He said. Sarah would have scowled, but she was breathing too hard to make any kind of real expression. "I think we should try again, try to get you to hold out a little longer next time." He said cheekily, and pulled the blindfold back over her eyes.

Sarah relaxed her shoulders into the mattress. That wasn't nearly as traumatizing as she thought it would be. Actually, it was the exact opposite. And for as eternal of an experience as it was, it had all happened rather quickly. She'd fought against it, fought both him and herself, and yet he was able to command her body effortlessly. Realizing this, fighting started to seem like a pointless notion as she hummed on the afterglow of her orgasm.

Maybe it was the release of physical tension, maybe it was the blindfold, but there was a new fluidity moving through her that she'd never before experienced in such a way. She was angry, but it no longer dominated her, it no longer consumed her mind and asphyxiated her rational. It was like a weight had been lifted, allowing herself to question once more, why was she doing this? At what point did spite exhaust itself?

Is that what Jareth was trying to do? Could she really release her anger through an orgasm? Her spectral self did a quick once over of the heap she'd been reduced to in only a matter of minutes, and concluded that must be exactly the case.

But, just when her breathing started to shallow, she felt the hot pressure of Jareth's mouth press against her neck. She drew in a breath and whipped her head away, unconscious of her own reaction. He shifted over her, and pushed the sides of her shirt further apart as he languidly sucked his way down her neck. She arched her back when his fingers dipped under the strap of her bra and tugged, shifting it up her shoulder. His hand lowered, under the cup of her bra, and began gently massaging the tender fullness of her breast.

Sarah jerked on reflex, but was surprised at how -unsurprising his touch was. Now that she was finally starting to relax, she was able to figure out why Jareth had blindfolded her. She couldn't see. She could see him, or her or any of the shame that was transpiring between them. She was afraid of this at first, but now... Now she was able to disconnect, remove herself from the situation, block out all the wrong, all the resentment, leaving nothing but pleasure, pure and simple pleasure. It was like having an epiphany.

She was being slowly consumed by the burning clutches of her primal self. And the more it dominated, the less she fought against it. Her mind was turning on itself. She was no longer actively fighting. She wasn't doing anything. Her conscience was blank, her thoughts quiet. She was hollow, allowing herself to be sucked further and further into the vacuum of her libido. She didn't care. She was shameless. Her opinions started to scatter. None of it mattered right now. All that mattered was feeling. Pleasure...she was lost to it, completely taken by it. And all this was amplified by the fact that she didn't have to accept it, she didn't have to acknowledge it. Jareth wasn't there. She could shut him out if she wanted.

She reveled in the darkness, floating in the strange sense of lucidity it gave her. She brought his words back to her, _Relax. Feel my touch. Don't think about it. This isn't life or death. Just pretend this is one of your dreams, and enjoy_. He was right, this wasn't life or death. But, she wanted it to be. Why? She didn't understand her own principles anymore. Looking back, her eternal conquest to fight him seemed almost irrational. But, she knew that was just her body talking, and would wear off before long._ Just pretend...pretend._ She told herself. _Pretend this is all harmless, pretend there won't be any consequences after. A dream.. Make it a dream. It doesn't matter. Maybe this could be like a dream..._

Jareth's hand stopped massaging her breast to raggedly yank down the cup of her bra, hiking her breast above it. He removed his hand from her, and lightly ran it down her stomach. He took his lips from her neck and moved lower, holding himself just a hair's width above the trussed up and exposed flesh of her rosy pink nipple. She could feel his breath on her, a sharp kind of heat that sent a shiver down her spine. Her skin rippled with goosebumps and her nipples hardened under the tantalization. She was practically quivering under him. But it wasn't him. She didn't view it that way. She forced herself to ignore it, she couldn't endure it otherwise, couldn't enjoy it. No. Jareth was irrelevant. All she knew was darkness and sensation.

He lowered his lips and lightly rolled his tongue around her nipple.

Sarah gasped, the rosy bud hardening further. She began arching this way and that as she tried to escape the intensity of his lips and tongue as they gently suckled at her flesh. His hand traveled downward, and brushed a line along her pubic bone. She felt her muscles tense with the proximity of his hand, and felt the return of the churning tension in the pit of her stomach. He placed two fingers over her clit, and pressed down.

Her mouth dropped open, and she tried not to squirm as his fingers began pushing and twirling down on her. It was such a simple, light touch, but it spurned a feeling deep inside that begged for immediate release. She could feel her body opening, ready, no -wanting to be filled. But it was a plea left unanswered. Jareth kept his fingers on her clit and no where else, while he bit down on and slowly sucked on her breast. He wasn't -wouldn't- touch her anywhere else. She was growing hot with the heat that radiated from her to the blanket and back again. It was driving her crazy, but she wouldn't let herself admit it. She knew how good it felt, knew how much she craved it, but refused to let Jareth know as well. On the inside, she may have been scrambled and scattered, mentally battered by the ongoing struggle for dominance between her conscience and her libido; but on the outside she remained as rigid and indifferent as she could, the only tell to her facade being the subtle jolts that shot through her body and the airy tone of her panting as she struggled to refill her brain's supply of oxygen.

The simple repetition of Jareth's torments dragged on and on, staying constant throughout all of Sarah's reluctant squirming, and driving her higher and higher to the point she loathed to love. She knew this would happen eventually. She knew she couldn't stave him off forever. But, for some reason, she never thought she and Jareth would actually be in this situation. It was surreal, and in fact dreamlike in every sense. For the first time since arriving, she didn't think sex and all it entailed was that horrible. She was honestly enjoying herself, just as he'd said. Was it really nothing but her pride and his arrogance that stopped her from pursuing this on her own? Yes well, that was more than enough.

With all that said, pride and arrogance, it wasn't there anymore. There was nothing between them, aside from her blindfold. And in the back of her mind, behind all the restraint and anxiety, she couldn't help but wonder if this was a glimpse at what things could be like between them. While she couldn't see him, while she was ignoring the very fact that it was he who was doing this to her, she felt unbelievably close to him, and dare she say -intimate? Had she ever been intimate with Jareth before? And true, there was nothing intimate about their current situation, as she was still set on the fact that he was molesting her -whether she secretly enjoyed it or not- , but she couldn't deny the feeling of something deeper.

All this contemplation passed within the few seconds Jareth held Sarah's orgasm on the brink of eruption. She rolled her head back, fed up with so much thinking, and prayed she could just feel the crashing feeling of glorious completion once again.

It seemed like it would never come, like he was purposefully keeping her on the edge, holding her back from falling. Her panting became louder and more irregular, her voice raising several octaves as the feeling burgeoned and intensified deep within her belly. And then finally, she could take no more, filled to the brim with a feeling she thought she knew, a feeling that she had only ever imagined in her deepest darkest dreams. This feeling boiled over, more agonizingly blissful than she could have ever hoped to fathom. He was right. He was right. God damn it, he was right.

She thought she felt herself coming back down, returning to her body, and along with it came an immense feeling of relaxation. She never thought it could be possible, but in that moment of hanging lucidity, she was no longer frustrated, she was no longer angry. In that moment, she truly was caught between a dream and reality. And Jareth...Real or Dream, it didn't matter.

Suddenly, Jareth moved away from her, and pulled the blindfold from her eyes and the whole world came crashing down on her.

"Time's up." He said.

The moment Sarah's eyes breached the barrier of the outside world was like waking from a dream. She was back in her room again, crudely exposed and panting in sweat. Jareth was looming over her, his sneer reduced to a humble curl of the lips. Her eyes met his, and just like that, all the anxiety, shame, and disgust came flooding back like a sea of long lost turmoil. She put all that on hold however, and balanced on one toe along the fence separating the two ways in which she could react right now.

One part of her was outraged. Outraged with herself, embarrassed, and ready to fall apart. The other half however, saw this pivotal moment as a gateway. Something that would turn the course of their relationship. Depending on how each handled this situation could determine whether or not they took a step forward together, and dispersed miles apart. What those actions were that would cement those two paths however, she had no idea.

And so, for the time being, all she could do was stare hopelessly up at Jareth as she waited for some kind of dawning realization.

Jareth reached up, and unclasped her hands, and then leaned back on his heels as he began to turn away from her. Sarah drew her arms to her, and began running circles around her wrists. She tried sitting up, and looked over at the clock, furrowing her brow in confusion when she saw it had paused on three minutes. Her attention shifted however, watching confusedly as Jareth stood from the bed and stepped away.

"You're leaving? But...it hasn't been five minutes." She called out. Jareth turned back, smiling coyly over his shoulder.

"I know." He said. Sarah continued to grow more and more puzzled.

"So, you're what? ...forfeiting then?" She asked, and glared when his smile stretched. "Why?"

"Because this wasn't about winning or losing, Sarah. It was about making a point."

"And what point is that?" She asked.

"That the only one you're really fighting here, is yourself. And, regardless of the way this ends, I will always win." And with that, he was gone.

* * *

Sarah found herself sitting alone on her bed, in a mess of fabric and disappointment. _So he was just...making a point? Playing a game?! Keeping score?!_ She sat, and glared at the spot where Jareth had once been. She didn't know what she would be feeling at this point, didn't know how she would react, but even in her ignorance, she felt as though something wasn't right. She began to stew, dwelling in a shallow pool of disgruntlement as the lingering cloud of her arousal gave way to the voice of reason. What Jareth had done to her... It was wrong, and yet...she would be a liar to say she didn't enjoy it. Towards the end, she actually felt...something. It may have been carnal, and nasty, but it was real. It was...intimate. She thought maybe...maybe. Maybe what? That he felt it too?

But the way Jareth left her just now, left her to face her shame... He had purposefully defiled her, and was gloating about it. He'd done this to her, put her in this position. _All to prove a fucking point?!_ She snarled down at the bed, realizing just how sterile and calculated everything truly was. _Let's play a game, he said. Of course that's all it was._ How could she think there might have been anything more to it? There was no intimacy, none whatsoever from Jareth. But why did that upset her? Was she expecting it from him? Was she expecting him to care? All he'd done was use her body against her, that was all. She felt like an idiot. Letting herself be fooled by him in more ways than one. The look on his face...that fucking smile. What was she expecting? What was she hoping for? Would she admit that maybe, just maybe, somewhere deep down, she was hoping to see him just as flustered as she was? To see him churning with some unnamed emotion? To see anything that could have fooled her into believing he actually cared?

She shook her head, aggravated beyond all belief, and gathered herself from the bed. Her knees wobbled as she made her way to the bathroom, and she clung the two halves of her shirt closed as she walked.

She shut the door behind her and pulled down the sodden and torn remains of her underwear; then reached for a washcloth so she could clean herself off. She didn't want to admit it, but all Jareth's dirty descriptions of sex were spot on. She could feel the residual fluids of her orgasms dripping down her legs, and she felt uncomfortable with the hot and sticky sweat that plastered her hair and remaining clothing tight to her body.

She wiped herself good and thorough, but it wouldn't stop. She huffed and looked up into the mirror, and almost gasped at the rosy cheeked harlot that met her. She stared, aghast.

Her hair was an utter mess, knotted in mats from all her tossing and turning. Her skin was still heated, and bloomed a bright pink. Her shirt hung open, and was now hanging off one shoulder while her bra had been viciously twisted to one side. She was a mess. A total fucking disaster.

She stared at herself, really stared. What the Hell did he do to her? She roamed her eyes from head to toe in the mirror, and quickly became disgusted. _I let him do this to me. I let him trick me. I...I let him use me. It was all just a game to him._ Her thoughts began to mumble and echo. She played over every moment of Jareth's _game_, and realized that there wasn't a single moment she wasn't writhing for him. She felt stupid, like a total fool. How could she think she was resisting him? How could she think she could hide? He knew how she felt, and he exploited every ounce of it. It was all a game. Every second of it. She was an idiot to listen to him. Pretend it's a dream...

And then he left. He left her teetering, hanging on the edge and reaching out for him. She was actually reaching out for him and he did nothing. He left her alone, to face her own denial. He made his point, loud and clear. He left her. Alone.

She lowered her head and winced as she gripped the rim of the sink in frustration.

"God damn it, Jareth. You son of a bitch." She whispered under her breath. She was so angry. So angry she'd let him use her like that. So angry she'd given in. It was obvious he didn't care. He'd done this to her, made sure that she would feel this way. He didn't care about how she felt, as long as he got what he wanted... He always got what he wanted.

She took in a deep breath, her hands shaking as she held herself up. She hated him. Absolutely hated him. She hated him, and wished she didn't care enough about him to bother hating him. She let him get to her. She let him worm his way through, when she should have just cut him off from the start. But she couldn't, she couldn't let go. She couldn't hate him, because she still had hope, hope that things weren't as bad as they seemed, hope that there was still a chance to wake up and find out this nightmare had been just that. She hated everything about him, and yet she would never hate _him_. Because he was all she had left. There were moments, moments when she thought it might not be so bad, when she thought everything would be ok. She'd been fighting him for so long. She was exhausted. She hated him, she wanted nothing from him, and yet she expected everything. She wanted everything.

She opened her eyes and looked up at herself once more, disgusted and horrified with the image that met her. She felt despicable, revolted. She shouldn't care. She shouldn't give him that satisfaction. She shouldn't care enough to let him hurt her. She should just turn her back and look away, but she couldn't. She wanted to be happy. She wanted hope. She wanted him. She wanted him so badly it hurt. But he would never give her what she wanted, because in order to do that he would have to lose. He would have to lose, like it was a game. She wanted nothing of him, and everything from him. And she hated it. She hated herself for it. She was weak. She made herself weak. There was no point in having hope, it always brought her pain.

Did he really not care at all? Was he really so cruel? Was she only a challenge to him? Something to dominate and take victory over? Was there really nothing more? How could she let herself be affected so strongly by such a monster?

"I am not a fucking conquest!" She suddenly screamed, and thrashed her arms down at the sink. This was her life. It wasn't a game. Liana told her she to use herself as a weapon. But she wasn't strong enough. If she was gambling with her own body, her own heart and soul, what was Jareth gambling with? The stakes were so much higher for her, and she wasn't ready to make a move. She wanted to give up, call it quits and screw everything. Screw Jareth. Screw this world. Screw this game!

She felt her arms begin to buckle, and lowered her head once more, unable to look at herself any longer. She hated him. Hated him because he didn't care. Hated him because he cared in all the wrong ways. She hated him because she _did_ care. And she hated him because she wanted him to care. She felt so confused, so lost. Alone.

She dropped to her knees, gripping the rim of the sink with her hands, and cried.

* * *

Jareth pranced through his chambers with all the flare of the sun in his step. After all the hectic inconveniences of the day, he felt as though he'd managed to successfully redeem the evening for the better. Things could have ended very badly between he and Sarah. He could have lost his temper, hurt her as she said. But he was proud of the road he'd taken. She'd been denying her desire for him for so long, it was about time to set things straight. She craved his touch like a famine, her body responding to him wildly and passionately. He loved it. Absolutely loved every minute of it. He loved watching her writhe for him, and he loved the satisfaction that came with it as she tried to openly fight against it. He reveled in her denial, and reveled in blowing it clear out of the water.

He had very much wanted to prove a point to her tonight, the point that all ...this... was in fact pointless. He knew how she felt. He knew she lusted for him. Why keep denying it? Why fight? Why spend their time hating each other when they could just as easily love? If they were frustrated, why not exhaust it in ways that would benefit them both?

Well, he was fairly confident he'd found a way to put an end to that little bump in the road once and for all. Of course, he knew she would retaliate tomorrow; be angry with him, attack him in some way. She'd call him a monster and say all kinds of horrible, accusatory things. But he didn't care anymore. Everything was out in the open now. What concern was it of his if she chose to waste her own breath?

He inhaled deeply, savoring the lingering aroma of Sarah's excitement that still clung to him. Gods she had so much passion! He could smell it on her, and practically taste it in the future, how wonderfully delicious it would be. She couldn't keep up this charade forever. She would fall to him. _First her body..._

Thoughts of the future, combined with his almost giddy feeling of victory, had him pondering just how grand life could be once this was all said and done. He would possess every part of her. He would own her body, her mind and soul. She_ would_ love him one day. He could feel it. And he couldn't wait, not just for the sake of his plan, but because he truly believed he and Sarah could live happily ever after. He wanted so much. He wanted to give her so much. He wanted to lay the world at her feet if she would only smile in return. _Just let me rule you, and you can have everything that you want. I ask for so little. Just fear me, love me, do as I say, and I will be your slave._ He didn't think he couldn't have made it any more clear to her back then. Nothing had changed. If anything, it only became more true. He meant what he said, and he still did. He was still waiting, waiting for her to realize what he meant, to realize that, in his own way, he was hopelessly in love with her. (_That_ was why he couldn't kill her, why he was marrying her instead.) It was so simple...and yet so difficult. She just didn't understand. She didn't understand what it meant to be loved by him... And he was man enough to realize that she didn't even view it as such. She still dwelled on the romances of dreams and fairytales, and this was no fairytale. It pained him, but she needed to accept this as a reality before she could ever hope to fathom the depth of his feeling for her. Real feeling, real love, it wasn't easy, it wasn't pretty, it wasn't breathless or fluid. It was merciless, distraught and unwavering. That was their reality. And that was the way her loved her. That was what separated himself from her dream incarnations. He was real, his feelings were real. But it seemed every time he had the chance to tell her this, something went horribly wrong, and everything, all of it, was lost in translation, misunderstood by differing modes of expression, and ripped to shreds in the crossfire.

This feeling of nostalgia, and flighty melancholy only made him more optimistic for the future. He loved her fiery spirit. He loved her sharp temper and the heated look in her eye. Even when he thought he was going mad with rage, he loved every minute of it. It invigorated him, not fighting with someone, but fighting for someone. She pushed him, and he pushed her back. He'd never cared enough to put forth the effort before. With that said, he saw this night as a victory. As a stepping stone. Just one more inch closer to the day she would let him rule her, let him love her.

He tried, and failed, to ignore all this however. He had a mission, a goal in mind. And he needed to keep focus on that and that alone. Entertaining the illusions of his own feelings would only cloud things. No...that could all wait. All that, all those possibilities, were set in the future, set for a time where securing their happiness would be his number one goal. That couldn't be so right now. He already had a number one goal -take back his power. He'd told himself this countless times. But as the days slowly passed, as he slowly began to know this girl, this horrible, vile, vexation of a woman, he found one goal start to outweigh the other. He found himself forgetting, forgetting there was a reason she was with him in the first place. When he was with her, everything else just seemed to vanish, lost in a cloud of unbridled frustration. And the more he experienced this agony, the more he craved it, the more he wanted to be consumed by it, the more he wanted to fight for it, to be lost to it.

He was too distracted to notice the pale glowing butterfly that fluttered in through the window. It glided by, in front of his face, calling his attention. Jareth peered up, curious and wary as he watched it. _What is she doing here now?_ He asked himself.

He and Liana were still on rather poor terms with one another. After their big blow out, and the destruction of the Labyrinth, Liana had tactfully stayed away in order to collect herself and let the situation settle. But she was here now, and in her more _peaceful_ form at that. He turned his head to follow the ghostly creature as it swooped this way and that. He narrowed his eyes, waiting for her to do something.

"What do you want?" He snarled, not quite ready to let his good mood be spoiled. There was no answer from the apparitional insect as it glided across the room. Jareth kept close eye on her, becoming more and more on guard with the unease of her silent presence.

The butterfly continued to flutter it's wings in a lagging haze that hummed through the air in graceful wisps. It fluttered farther and farther away from Jareth, until it landed on the door. Jareth's narrowed eyes turned into a glare as he slowly pieced together what Liana's purpose was. There were two doors in Jareth's room. One led to the hall, and one led to Sarah. The butterfly crawled along the door of the later, seeming to be waiting for something.

Jareth twitched, second guessing the impulse to approach. What was she doing here? Being so ominous? It obviously had something to do with Sarah. Cautiously, he took a step in the direction of the door.

Liana's wings started to flutter once Jareth came near. Her wings folded, and her body churned. She glowed brighter, and brighter as she made the transformation from butterfly to rose. Her light dimmed, until all that was left was the golden sparkle of the rose vines that were steadily growing and entwining with the surface of the door.

Jareth...didn't understand. What was she getting at? Why not just tell him? He figured she was trying to get him to go back to Sarah. But why? Why would she try to bring him to her? Liana's actions were wild and radical, and he didn't trust her for a minute.

He stood there for another minute or two, waiting, but nothing happened. At first, he refused to follow her, thinking it may be some kind of ploy. But, after only a moment or so, his sense of curiosity started to get the better of him. He took hold of the handle of the door, and pushed it open.

* * *

Sarah had sat on the bathroom floor for what she considered to be a pitifully lengthy amount of time, and after picking herself up, was only able to migrate to the window, where she slowly sank to the floor in a cocoon of her own revolt. She hadn't bothered to dress herself. Hadn't bothered to brush her hair or take a bath. It didn't matter. It didn't matter how well she erased her and Jareth's actions, if she couldn't erase her troubles as well. In the beginning, she hated that she was crying. That she was weak enough to break down because of him. But her tears weren't woeful and full of self pity. No, they were tears of frustration, which mostly consisted of hiccups and dry sobs. She sat with her arms wrapped around her shins, and buried her face in her knees.

She was so distracted, she almost didn't feel the tickle on her arm as something started crawling along it. She looked up, and saw that a pale, almost iridescent, butterfly had landed on her. She tilted her head, and tried to smile at it, before giving up. She sniffled and lowered her head back into herself. Why were there so many butterflies?

* * *

Jareth paced warily down the dark hall leading back to Sarah's room. His thoughts grew sharper and sharper with each step. Something wasn't right. _Why would the Labyrinth be directing me towards Sarah? Hasn't she been trying to deter me from the beginning? _He thought, and gently eased open the door leading into Sarah's room, cautious of what might meet him.

He stepped across the threshold, and looked around the room. It was quiet, eerily so. As his eyes scanned over the scenery, they landed on a crumpled heap of tattered cloth and long dark brown hair. Reflexively, Jareth stopped dead in his tracks, not expecting what he saw. He narrowed his eyes, and looked her over once more.

She was sitting on the floor, under the window, clinging to herself as she quietly sobbed. She hadn't heard him enter, she was oblivious. He drew his brow then. _What? Why is she crying? _He wondered. His brow twitched when catching the flutter of wings as Liana flew from Sarah's arm and glided her way towards him. _Still think you're trying to help her? My King._ The deep echo of Liana's voice rang through the dead hollow of his thoughts. His ears twitched, but he soon realized she was speaking only for him. Sarah was still completely unaware of either of their presences. Jareth scowled, drawing his eyes on the butterfly as it fluttered and twirled about him. _Why have you lead me here?_ His thoughts answered. Liana seemed to pause in her flight, but only as to change direction and began hovering towards the window.

He followed her, quiet as can be, until he was standing only a few feet away from Sarah. She hadn't changed her clothing since he'd left... He wondered... He shook his head and glared up at the butterfly. _We're even now._ She echoed, and no sooner fled out the window.

It took a minute for him to catch on, but suddenly, things started clicking in the back of his mind. He looked down to Sarah, then out the window once more. _So that's it then?_ He wondered, just now understanding Liana's purpose. Sarah was upset. And instead of dealing with it herself, she was offering him the chance to take care of it instead, in an effort to make up for her previous fault. His mouth formed a thin line as he glanced back down to Sarah, who was so lost in her own thoughts that she still hadn't noticed him standing right next to her. He hunkered down, and wrapped his arms around her, and pulled her up against his chest.

Sarah jumped at the surprise sensation of being engulfed. But she registered it was Jareth in an instant, and in her spite, tried jerking away from him. He sat on the floor next to her, and held her tighter, refusing to let go. She grunted, exasperatingly, and continued to struggle; only, as she squirmed, she was, in some backhanded effort, actually trying to turn herself towards him. She winced and whimpered before thrusting her face into his chest.

Jareth...didn't quite know what to do. For one, he had absolutely no idea why she was so upset. Hadn't she been enjoying their little game? She'd orgasmed twice! And she'd gotten her wish of getting rid of him! So why was she upset? And secondly, he couldn't quite grasp the fact that she wasn't fighting to get away from him now. What happened in the ten minutes he was away?

Her hands reached up and gripped the collar of his shirt as she nuzzled into him. She was shaking, her legs fidgeting under her as if holding back an excessive amount of energy that she didn't know what to do with. She was holding onto him, clinging desperately. And she shook her head from side to side, as if telling herself she would cry no more, but only caused herself to shed even more tears. He kept his arms around her, not sure what else to do.

"Sarah, why are you crying?" He asked. He felt a tremor shoot through her then, and she starting pulling on him haggardly, clawing for him as if she were being dragged away. Suddenly, she clenched her eyes shut and pressed the side of her face hard into his heart, and wrapped her arms around his torso as she hugged him for dear life. He felt himself tighten his grip on her, but only grew more and more perplexed. "Sarah? What's wrong?" He asked, with a sense of confused compassion that only made her cry harder. She started shaking her head viciously from side to side, pursing her lips to hold back a sob.

"You are such an asshole." She cried out, and with it came the cascade of tears and pity she'd been working so hard to keep in. She gripped him through the fabric of his shirt, holding onto him as she let herself go. She was shaking in his arms, and while normally, he would have made some rebut against her comment, it no longer seemed important. He tightened his arms around her, squeezing her to him, and kissed the top of her head.

Sarah cried with self-loathing, and shook with frustration as she sought out comfort from the one person who could reduce her to this very state. She didn't know why, but she was glad he came back. Why did he come back? It didn't matter. It didn't matter, because he was here now. She wasn't alone anymore.

She hugged him for all she was worth, letting out every ounce of torment and turmoil she had in her. It was as if everything, absolutely everything had been playing up to this moment. All her anger and confusion, her shame and animosity, it had all combined into one emotion, but she had no idea what it was. She hated him so much right now. She'd never hated him more. And yet, she clung to him, pleaded for him. She needed him. She needed him to hold her, to touch her. She needed to know that she wasn't alone. He was her rock, her constant. And so she clung to him, hating him just as much as she loved him. After all, he was all she had left.

* * *

  



	23. Pawn To H4, part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While unbeknown to her, Sarah has succeeded in obtaining the one thing the Goblin King has desired for hundreds of years -power over the Labyrinth. After being hidden for years from his diabolical wrath, Sarah finds herself alone and vulnerable as Jareth's dark desires are finally aloud to rear their ugly heads. As always, the only question is, are things really as they seem?

Chapter 10, Pawn To H4

* * *

The day was in full bloom; Goblins scurried and scuttled and bounced and bumbled about the throne room, hanging from walls and whirling in drunken stupors as they began to litter the floor. It was loud, messy, and riddled with discourse. Everything was as usual, caught in a self-sustaining state of chaotic disarray; and Roldan was questioning whether or not he had ever been more frustrated.

Never, when embarking on the journey north for the quarterly review, did he expect to return to such a state of affair. Never did he anticipate or even toy with a scenario such as this. Marriage? No, marriage was not the surprise here. It wasn't even that she was mortal. What was surprising, was the timing. Who was this girl? How did this situation come to be? He'd been gone for one week. One week during which Jareth had acquired a bride -a primitive, crude, ignorant child at that. How? What? How could he possibly fathom? Why had Jareth chosen her? How did this come about? How could he- she was nothing close to Queen material. And Jareth...no. This just didn't make any sense. The women Jareth surrounded himself with were proper, respectful, and sophisticated. How could he put up with this...this...ruffian of a woman for one minute- let alone a lifetime? Did he have any idea what he was getting himself into? Was it sheer desire that spurred this? Was he simply blinded by her...by her...her what? What was there to blind him with? Her resilience? Her disrespect? Her sheer bullheadedness? And why marry her? Take her as a concubine, sure; but was marriage really necessary? Jareth was one for a good challenge, and breaking this girl into saddle was sure to be a challenge indeed...but regardless. And it happened so quickly. Why was he not informed? Or at the very least, why did he have absolutely no clue that such a thing was even on Jareth's mind? Was he under some kind of spell? There was nothing rational about this situation. Jareth must be mad. He must have been out of his mind.

He began pacing the small spot allotted him from within the barrage of Goblins, snarling at the dirt smeared floor.

There was so much that needed explaining. So many questions and answers. And what was worse, what only added to the confusion, was the way Jareth had stood him up last night. He had been expecting the King's council that evening. It was a given, and yet, as the hours of night began to stretch, as he tapped his foot in the solitude of the library, Roldan realized, by the dwindling light of the fire, that Jareth would not be coming. What was he doing? Was he consciously standing him up? Or had something happened? Jareth wasn't the flighty type. He wouldn't have simply forgotten. But, he wasn't the one to shake off an appointment either, especially one that he had called for in the first place -one so important. And so he had waited, begrudgingly yet patiently, for the conversation that never happened.

Now it was morning. Morning? Ha! No, morning had come and gone long ago. He looked over to the clock hanging on the wall; its dagger hands pointing 11:45. He'd been waiting here for hours. Where the Hell was Jareth? He and Jareth always reported to the throne room at the first crack of dawn. His absence now, with everything that was going on, was nothing less than strange. Was it connected to his absence last night? There was a small string of worry on this train of thought worming through his mind, but he refused to let it breech the light of day. There was no reason to worry. Absolutely no reason to question. What could have happened since he escorted the girl to her chamber? Nothing. There was no reason Jareth shouldn't be here, no reason he should be 5 hours late. He scowled harder at the stone tiles, trying his best to block out the jitter and blunder of Goblins wreaking havoc in the background. _No reason. Absolutely no reason. _He grumbled to himself over and over. Davion had come and gone. The girl was arrested in her chambers. What could be the hold up? He didn't understand. And yet, he was still alone, still pacing aimlessly about the throne room.

During his brooding, he allowed himself to entertain the thought of going in search of him, but dismissed the idea right quick. Such action was unacceptable. He was not, under any circumstances, allowed to disturb the King in his private chambers. He was not allowed to call upon the King himself unless it was an absolute emergency, and impatience...was not classified as an emergency. No, there was nothing he could do but wait. And so he did.

Back and forth. Back and forth he paced. He was surrounded by lively, vivid beings, and yet he was completely alone. The weight of his mind and irritation began to consume him. Back and forth. Back and forth.

The walls were starting to close in. The chatter grew louder and louder. The air became dense. Minutes became hours. He stopped pacing, needing to compose himself before his mind snapped. He brought a hand to his temples and winced as he let out a long breath. He stood silent for a moment, and that was when he realized the boisterous chatter around him had settled to a tranquil hum. He looked up, and saw Jareth trudging his way through the doorway.

He straightened his back, his gaze perking up, all of his frustration and exasperation evaporating into nothing at the sight of him. He took a step back and waited with attentive eyes as Jareth wordlessly stalked past and lowered himself into his throne. He waited, not knowing what for, but expectant all the same. He was met with silence and a strange aura as he watched his King sink to a puddle in his chair. Roldan twisted his brow then. Something wasn't right. This silence- it was tangible, and heavy with some dark thought. He lowered his eyes over Jareth and began analyzing his posture.

He was slouched in his usual position, but his gaze was cast to the floor. He was lax, and yet the sternness of his expression gave tell as to the incredible tension that was in fact holding together his languid facade. His eyes were hooded, but the shade did nothing to hide the roaring blaze that burgeoned behind it. Roldan became worried then. Jareth wasn't happy. Something was wrong.

"Well? Out with it." Jareth snapped, the sting of his voice cutting through the silence like a rusted blade.

"Out with what? Your Majesty." Roldan countered. He expected another snap just then, a more concrete display of anger, but all he was met with was a low exhale and a slight sag of the shoulder.

"Everything you're trying to keep from shouting out at me from behind that scowl of yours." He answered. Roldan stood a little straighter.

"Do you want my general disgruntlement? Or something specific?" Jareth slowly rose his eyes to Roldan, a heavy blackness bubbling from his gaze.

"I know how much you favor the blade you call a tongue, but I will forewarn you now, I am not in the mood." Jareth said, while bringing a hand up to rub his forehead.

"You look tired, Majesty." Roldan observed, after catching a better glimpse of the dark hood that glazed the King's eyes.

"Among other things." Jareth mumbled, effectively communicating his impatience with their conversation. Roldan rose his shoulders a bit and cut to the point.

"I awaited you last night. As you are aware, you didn't show. I find myself wondering the reason. Did something happen?" He asked, and watched as Jareth dragged his hand like a claw down the front of his face.

"You could say that."

"Nothing serious? You look exhausted." He said, wondering if perhaps there was a matter with the kingdom that had called away his attention. There weren't very many other explanations as to a King's absence.

"No."

"Then where-" He started, then stopped at the way Jareth began to shift in his chair, uncomfortably it seemed.

"I spent the night with Sarah." He said, as he settled into a new position. Roldan rose a brow, an expression that, luckily, was missed by his distracted King.

"Right, well...I've since been awaiting you. It's getting rather late, might I ask-"

"I spent the morning with her too." Jareth interjected, anticipating his question, and rightfully shutting Roldan's open mouth.

Jareth slumped his shoulders and looked away, whatever Roldan said next fading into the background as he recalled, in that brief moment, the morning in question.

* * *

Jareth held Sarah into him as she continued to shake and cry well into the night. He didn't say anything, didn't interrupt her once. For one, he didn't know what he could or should possibly say to her, and two, he was simply enjoying the warmth of having his arms around her and hers around him. He didn't know how long they stayed like that beneath the windowsill, but eventually, her sobs softened, her tremors faded, and her breathing grew more shallow. They sat there, dead quiet, but he knew she was wide awake. She still clung to the collar of his shirt, and her body still tensed against him. He looked down to her from time to time, but could only shy away from the sense of cold distain that radiated at him. He observed this as _at_ him, rather than _to_ him, acknowledging the difference and took it as a hint not to prod. She sought comfort, but nothing else. And she was ashamed for it. And so while she clung to the folds of his shirt, she hid herself beneath his gaze, not wanting, not willing, to admit let alone accept that she was weak enough to fall before him, to fall into him. He did not deserve that level of satisfaction -but he took it all the same.

And for the moment, that was all he could ask for. She was in his arms, after all; how foolish would it be to even risk disturbing this blissful state of melancholy?

It wasn't long until she fell asleep, dead to the world as the wear and tear drained the remaining sparks of her consciousness. And still he didn't move. In fact, he held her tighter, her limp body slipping through his arms. What in the world had happened? Why was she so upset? He still had absolutely no idea. She'd been angry earlier but...wasn't she always angry? They'd been having fun... He KNEW that she enjoyed it. Her body craved his touch. She writhed and moaned -had he been imagining things? She was trying so hard to ignore it... Why was she crying?

At one point, he found himself gathering Sarah in his arms as he stood, and carried her over to the tussled mess of her bed. He undressed her, just as before; but this time, he was no longer cautious about removing her apparel. He felt less hesitant...and if he were at liberty, he would dare say, closer to her now. He redressed her, and covered her lightly. His initial reaction was to walk away, but he didn't -he never did. He felt...odd. Liana had given him this opportunity, and he needed to take full advantage of it. He sighed and scowled and growled as he stared at her. Everything about her was so exhausting. Why was nothing ever easy? Why couldn't she just smile without burning everything around her to the ground? He shifted her further over on the bed, and crawled in next to her.

He laid next to her, practically sitting upright against the headboard. He looked down, and ran a hand through her hair. She was facing towards him, and shifted at the feeling of his fingers grazing along her scalp. A hood began to lower over his eyes, as he resolved to simply drape his arm around her and turned his gaze to stare out over the room. Why was he still there? He should leave...

He felt Sarah start to wriggle, and looked down out of the corner of his eye. She had moved up against him, her arm starting to crawl over his waist as her head settled on his ribcage. Normally, he would have thought nothing of this. The nights -mornings- he'd come and invaded her dreams, she'd snuggled up against him in the exact same way. She'd even started grinding on him once. But the way he looked at her, the way she felt against him, the way her tear sodden face glistened and her red nose crinkled up at him brought about a sudden heat in his chest. He shifted down a little, and tightened the arm already around her, pulling her up to him. He held her there, savoring her warmth, not caring if his grip was just a little too tight.

He could feel her breathing through the steady rise and fall of her shoulders and closed his eyes in an effort to match it. But it was useless. There was too much on his mind. And so he laid there, staring at nothing and thinking of everything, until the first rays of dawn breached the twilight of the horizon.

Dawn crept in, and before he knew it the sun hung large and burned bright in the morning sky. His attention wandered to it briefly, and he remembered he was supposed to meet with Roldan the night before, and that soon, he would have to report to him in the throne room. But those thoughts were fleeting. Unimportant. He looked down, Sarah was still snuggled against him. He sighed, his fingers tightening on the fabric of her gown.

Sarah sighed, and nuzzled her face into Jareth's side. She began to stir, and worried her brow before slowly drawing back the shades of her eyelids. She blinked, slowly; the light from the window making her vision blurry. She closed her eyes, and took in a deep breath, before trying to open them again and bringing the world into better focus. Her eyes slowly began to roam, but she soon found that was all she could do. She felt hot. Her head was heavy and churned with the wistful pressure of a lingering headache. Half-heartedly, she tried to move, but her body remained stiff, as if lagging, struggling to catch up to her mental state of awareness. She gave in to simply lay there for a minute or two. She was still so tired...

After a few minutes, she began to come back to herself. Her eyes ran down the front of Jareth's torso, aware that she was once again pressed up against him. She didn't react right away, however. She didn't jump, or lurch away. She just laid there, totally blank. She felt her fingers begin to twitch and noticed then that her arm was draped over his waist. His hand held hers, and his thumb gently stroked her palm. She pulled her hand from his and tried moving away.

The arm around her back locked in a vice, refusing her the smallest reprieve. The sharp twitch of his arm defeated her instantly, still too tired to put forth any real effort against it. She pulled her arms into herself instead, using them as a barrier between her and the warmth of his chest. Her eyes flickered about what little of the room she could see. Her head felt so hazy...what time was it?

She slowly began to realize just how odd she felt. She knew Jareth was there. She could feel his arms around her. Why wasn't she reacting? It was like everything was moving in slow motion. It...it was morning. Wha-what happened? She tried to think, but it was strenuous. She...she couldn't remember. She thought back. She remembered...she remembered being angry. She remembered crying; remembered how upset she was. She remembered Jareth. She remembered sitting under the window...then things...started to go black. She couldn't remember what happened next. She was so tired...she'd never felt so tired before. She remembered crying. His arms around her. How did she get in bed? Was it just a dream? No. But why?...why did she feel so loopy? Somewhere along the line, she realized how quiet they both were.

"What time is it?" She murmured, feeling a sense of detachment to her own voice as it faded into the mist surrounding her.

"Ten thirty."

Her eyes lowered, as if the sound of their voices were just two small drops in a sea of silence. She felt herself start to drift through that sea...farther and farther away.

"When did you get here?" She asked. She could feel his chest expand beneath her with each breath.

"I never left." He said.

"You slept here then? With me?"

"No." She frowned at the coldness of his voice, but was too afraid to look up to him. Afraid? No...that wasn't the right word. She was reluctant...or _content_...just as she was. She felt his fingers gently stroke along her shoulder.

"Why didn't you leave?" She asked, and was only answered by the echo of her own voice. She felt a ripple then, a slight twinge in the sea around them, sending her further adrift. His silence put miles between them, but she didn't mind. She even began to close her eyes, everything felt so heavy...

"How did you sleep?" He asked; and if she had the energy, she would have been caught off guard. She thought a moment. How did she sleep? Like a dead weight. Hmm, good analogy...maybe that's why she felt so stiff...

"Heavy." She answered, though her thoughts continued to ramble through the silence. She thought over the state of her slumber, giving it more consideration than she thought was really necessary. It was solid, total blackness. Blackness? Why did that stand out to her? There was nothing... "I didn't have any dreams...at least... none I remember." She slowly added, her voice thick with the undertone of accusation. What she meant to say was, _you weren't romping around in my subconscious last night, at least, I don't remember._

Jareth remained stiff and silent for a moment.

"That's because I took them away." He said. Sarah felt her head twitch, in a slight effort to glance up at him, but it was unsuccessful.

"Why?"

"...I thought you could do with a solid night's rest." He said. Sarah's eyes lowered. She didn't answer. What could she really say? She could lecture him about not messing with her dreams_ period_, whether it be tampering or simply blotting them out; but she didn't have it in her. And besides, part of her was actually thankful she hadn't dreamed; she didn't think she could handle another round with Dream Jareth, or Real Jareth, or anything involving dreams or her brain or truth or secret revelations -given the course and context of which she'd been experiencing throughout the past week. No...he was actually right this time. A dreamless sleep was something she'd been needing. The silence began to burgeon again, and with it, she felt the tide of her sea start to creep in from the corners of her hazy state of consciousness.

"Sarah-" He interjected, finally, and all of the sudden, her vast sea was no more than a puddle. Her eyes slowly opened, just barely. "Why were you crying?" He asked.

"Why did you come back?" She countered. Jareth took in a sharp breath before responding, deciding how, and what he wanted to say. He struggled for a moment...his hand fidgeting against the fabric of her night gown.

"...Something...told me I should." He managed to say.

"Well...there you go." She said. Jareth drew his brow down on her. He knew she wouldn't just admit what was wrong. He knew that whatever it was, it caused her more shame than pain; perhaps her pain came from that shame. And he knew he wouldn't get anything concrete out of her unless he forced it out... He was tired of forcing her.

"I don't understand..."

"No. You wouldn't."

"Then help me to-"

"I don't think that's possible." She snapped, suddenly. Her voice was lower now, laced with the first signs of animosity.

"Sarah-" He started to say, just as she tried jerking away from him again. He flexed his arm, keeping her firmly rooted in her spot.

"What do you want me to say, Jareth? If you can't possibly fathom why I was upset after you molested me on your own, then I don't think there's anything I could say to make it any more clear for you." She snapped.

"What-"

"You MOLESTED me. Do you know what that means?" She snapped again, refusing to let him finish a sentence.

"Sarah- you agreed to the game. You knew the rules." She started shaking her head, subtly.

"As if that means I actually had any choice in the matter."

"Everything is a choice." Jareth's voice was suddenly louder, more firm. She pursed her lips, holding in some rash outburst or another. "You could have told me to stop." He added, in a much softer tone.

"If I said anything I would have lost. And you would have done _whatever you wanted until the sun came up_, if I'm remembering correctly."

"Did I say what it was I wanted to do should you have lost? Or were you making more assumptions?" He asked, rhetorically it seemed. Sarah began to scowl. No. He was not going to turn this on her.

"It doesn't matter. If I spoke up, I would have lost. If I told you to stop, you wouldn't have."

"And you know this how, exactly?"

"Because you're a deviant. A cheat. You twist and trick and manipulate everything. You're selfish and self-absorbed, and highhanded. You wanted me to cave, and I wouldn't."

"So you were more concerned over winning a game than your own consent or well being?"

"I should be asking that question."

"I told you, it wasn't about winning or losing. Your consent was all that mattered to me."

"Seriously? You really think you had my consent?"

"Didn't I? You never once said otherwise."

"I would have lost!"

"The game?"

"This isn't a game."

"Isn't it?"

"You violated me against my will. Don't try to spin it around."

"You could have told me to stop."

"For the hundredth time, I would have-"

"If you were truly against what was happening it wouldn't have mattered whether or not you lost." He snapped, but it was closer to a bark. "If you didn't want me touching you, nothing else would have mattered. You would have fought. You would have screamed your head off. You would have told me enough, to get off of you, to stop. But, you didn't. You didn't say a word. I am not an idiot, Sarah. Don't try to argue that your pride supersedes your survival instinct." He spoke fast and harsh, his grip on her tightening subconsciously. She shrunk down to the size of an ant, and huddled into herself, surprised to find herself on the brink of tears once more.

He felt her start to tremble, and sighed.

"I told you...it wasn't about winning. It was always, will always be about _you_, your consent, your pleasure. All you had to do was say no. That's all you had to do...otherwise, what would be the point?"

"You were doing it to punish me."

"That's what you think?" He asked, sounding suddenly incredulous. "Why would I torture you with sex?" He asked. Sarah's brow rose to great heights at that. _Really? REALLY?_ "Why would I try to deter you away from pleasure? Where is the benefit in that?"

"You've been tormenting me since I got here-"

"There is a difference between torment and torture. Especially where this is concerned. I told you...last night. It wasn't meant to punish you. It was a release...a way to relax. It was meant to make you feel good." He said, and peered down when she remained silent. "And you did feel good, didn't you?" She refused to answer.

"You can't twist this on me. I won't let you. What you did to me was wrong."

"And you loved every minute of it." He said, and waited a beat before continuing. "So, I'll ask again: why were you crying?"

Sarah felt her whole body begin to tense as she tried to curl into a ball and shy away from him. He really didn't get it, did he? He really didn't understand what was so wrong about all this? She winced, growing incredibly frustrated with the way he held her to him and refused to let go.

"I...I don't want to tell you." She said. Jareth's brow started to rise, not expecting her answer. "I'm not going to bother coming up with a lie. So instead, I'm going to try being mature by simply being honest and telling you that I don't want to answer. And I would like it if you honored that." She said. Jareth frowned. She was still writhing in shame. What happened that was so horrible?

"I apologize."

Sarah's eyes snapped open.

"What?"

"I -apologize."

"And what are you apologizing for?"

"It was not my intention to upset you."

"So, you're not apologizing for manipulating and molesting me, only that I got upset afterwards?" She asked, with a sardonic hiss. Jareth remained silent. "You do realize there is a difference between apologizing and saying you're sorry, right?" She added.

"What do you mean?"

"Saying that you apologize is describing an action. Saying you're sorry implies you actually feel some kind of remorse for what you did. So, which is it? Are you sorry? Or are you simply spitting dialogue at me?" Jareth narrowed his eyes at her attitude.

"I am not sorry for pleasuring you." He said, explicitly omitting the word _molest_ for _pleasure_. That term was starting to bug him. Sarah felt herself sink further into the sheets. "However-" He started up again, "I am sorry for upsetting you. I am sorry I made you cry. And I am sorry for whatever it is you don't want to tell me." He said, and Sarah grimaced into his shirt as she fought off any remaining pangs of turmoil rolling over from the previous night. Would she ever be able to admit it wasn't his touching her that upset her so? No. Better to just move on from the subject...

"You didn't leave after I fell asleep." She murmured, sounding distracted and oh so far away. The tension in Jareth's shoulders began to ease. This conversation was progressing so nicely...

"I wanted to stay with you. I will not leave you while you're upset." He said, and Sarah couldn't help but recall all the other times he'd said that to her, and how much she hated it. Her legs began to fidget uncomfortably beneath the blanket.

"...Thank you." She said, not quite sure why she was thanking him, nor of how he would take it. He didn't say anything. They laid there for a moment or two, and she was surprised when his hand then reached up and cupped the side of her head, and still even more surprised when he leaned down and planted a lingering kiss on the top of her head. His fingers dug into her hair, and he sighed, the warm air of his breath sending a tingle over her scalp, and snaked his arm out from under her as he moved to stand from the bed. Sarah almost flopped into the mattress with the absence of his torso beneath her. She sat up, and watched as he walked away.

"Where are you going?" She asked. He turned back to look at her.

"It's getting late, and I have much to catch up on." He said. Sarah's gaze wandered towards the clock. It was somewhere around 11:30. Her attention was called away when he started talking again. "And Sarah, when you're ready, I'd like you to present yourself in the west drawing room. Do you remember where that is?" He asked. Sarah furrowed her brow a bit. Umm..

"Uhh...yea, I think so. Why?" She asked.

"If you recall, I believe we decided you would start your lessons today." He said, in as passive a tone as possible.

"Oh..." She murmured, lowering her gaze to her lap.

"When you're ready." He said, and turned to walk away.

* * *

"Jareth?"

Jareth peered up, the finger tapping against his lips coming to a reluctant halt.

"Have you been listening to a single word I've said?"

He rose a brow then, his eyes widening along the way; and if he were anyone but Jareth, his look would have been classified as innocently surprised. He shifted around in his throne, the clatter and dust of the room coming back to reality. He glanced around, still having one foot in a memory; it took him a minute to realize Roldan was scowling at him.

"What is going on?"

"Excuse me?" Jareth asked. Roldan almost snarled.

"Look at yourself. Flustered and out of focus. It's because of this woman of yours, isn't it?" He began to lecture. Jareth leaned forward in his seat, stretching in what little room he had, and glared at the floor. What he wouldn't do to just close his eyes...

"Her name is Sarah." He rumbled.

"My apologies, Majesty. Perhaps now would be a good time to tell me all about her?" Roldan asked, sharp and sardonically. Jareth's glare continued to harden.

"Yes...I agree that a discussion on the matter is much needed." He said, slowly raising his eyes to his comrade.

"Well, who is she?"

Jareth placed both hands on either arm of his throne as if about to stand, and glared from one end of the room to the other.

"Get out." He commanded, shooting daggers at his subjects as they dashed and bumbled out of his sight. It took a minute, but soon the room was vacant, and blissfully quiet. Roldan actually let out a long breath, feeling an ease of claustrophobia being lifted from his shoulders. He waited for Jareth's signal. "As you may have gathered, she is mortal."

"Yes, I have. I have also gathered that she is not here of her own will." He narrowed his eyes when Jareth flashed a smirk, though it wasn't for him; he didn't understand what was so funny.

"Is it that obvious?" Jareth responded, his small smirk starting to stretch with exasperation.

"Obvious? It's ludicrous. She's intolerable, unkempt, crude-"

"You gathered all that from one encounter?" Jareth interrupted. Roldan huffed, quickly becoming irritated that he wasn't taking this seriously.

"You took her from the Aboveground, you're forcing her to marry you-"

"Do you have a problem with that?" There was a dangerous snap with Jareth's interjection, and he glared up to his friend with warning. Roldan narrowed his eyes in return.

"No. Not at all. Do what you may. May I only point out the irony. If you were going to take someone, why didn't you choose one just a twinge more willing?" He asked. Jareth wanted to roll his eyes. He was starting to sound an awful lot like Davion. He contemplated simply getting up and leaving. He was not in the mood to deal with Roldan's inquisition right now.

"You really need to ask that?" He countered.

"Yes, yes, you want what you want. My only question is, why? What could have possibly possessed you to commit yourself to such a..."

"A what?" Jareth challenged, with a dark note on his tongue that had Roldan reconsidering his original phrase.

"A brat." He said. Jareth chuckled softly, and leaned back in his throne.

"She may be a little rough around the edges..."

"Rough around the edges? How is it you tolerate her behavior?" He asked, incredulously.

"I find it rather charming, actually."

"Oh, please. Since when are you one to take such slander?" He asked, with a roll of the eye and a shake of the head.

"Ah, but there are two sides to every coin." Jareth said. Roldan started to pace.

"This isn't one of your games, Jareth. This is a serious matter. You may think breaking her in is good sport, but-"

"I understand the implications of my actions, Roldan. I am not naive."

"No, My King, you are rash and impulsive and-"

"Enough of that."

"As your advisor, I am telling you that woman is not, will not, and can not be Queen material. At least, not in the time allotted before for your marriage. She is too defiant, too ignorant." Roldan's pacing started to quicken. He couldn't believe how brash Jareth had been in this. How? At least hold off on announcing a marriage until she was ready. One month? Less? There was no way she would be able to present herself, especially if she was so against being in this situation in the first place...ridiculous.

"You don't know anything about her."

"Then enlighten me, please. I implore you. What is it about this creature that has completely warped all sense of reason in you?" He asked, both sincerely and exasperatedly. Jareth straightened a bit in his seat.

"Would you call me a fool if I said I've fallen madly in love with her?" Jareth asked, teasingly. Roldan pursed his lips.

"Yes. I would also call you a liar." He said. Jareth rose a brow at him. "I see no reason, logical or not, that could explain this situation. Sophora, _she _was acceptable. Tiana? Melanie? They were appropriate molds. And Aurelia? Now she was perfect -Gods be blessed. But this human...what could you possibly see-"

"Perhaps I don't want one of your cookie-cutter brides. Is that theory so ludicrous?" Jareth spoke, low and pouting-like. Roldan grunted.

"So this is just another stunt of yours then? Going against convention and whatnot?"

"No. This is not a stunt. And to be honest, your insults are starting to wear thin. I have never put more thought into any other decision. I have never been more sure of something. I understand that you two got off to a foul start, but one would think you would have enough faith in my intelligence to trust in what I am doing." Jareth began to lecture, his posture becoming more and more domineering as he spoke. Roldan stopped his pacing.

"Forgive me, I didn't mean to offend you." He said.

"I understand this is a shock for you, especially given Sarah's disposition."

"At least give me something to work with. Why did you choose her? Why her of all beings? She has no stature...no merit...she isn't submissive in any sense. She lacks class, culture..."

"I have amassed a position that warrants me the freedom to marry at my discretion. I don't need any more prestige or stature. I don't need family connections. What she lacks in sophistication, she makes up for in passion. She is more devoted to my subjects than any woman I've ever thought of courting. She has a wit and a fire that rivals my own. She is crude and defiant, high-strung and bullheaded. She is the perfect challenge. And I love her deeply." He said, with a cheerful perk in his voice as if he'd uttered the same sentiment a hundred times over.

"Love? Please."

"You find that funny?" Jareth asked.

"A little." Roldan answered, cracking the faintest smile. Jareth was about to retort, but Roldan beat him to it. "And how did this all come about? This flaming love of yours?" He asked, clearly amused. Jareth couldn't help but play into it. And so the facade began...

"I've had my eye on her for quite some time, actually...I came across her during one of my excursions Aboveground." He said, which was true.

"And this has all sprung so suddenly, within the last week, because?..."

"I was waiting...until I felt she had properly...ripened." He said, with a small naughty smile that only surfaced when something mischievous was afoot. Roldan saw this, and sneered.

"Well, now that we've established that, might I ask what it is you plan to do with her now?" He asked. Jareth quirked him an eyebrow. "You've taken her. Now what? Your wedding is in a month, how do you plan on making her presentable?" He asked, getting back to business. Jareth eased back a bit.

"That's where you come in." He said. This time, it was Roldan who quirked a brow.

"Me?" He asked.

"Yes...I'd like you to start educating her on the ways of the world."

"What?"

"Who better to curb her than the Preacher of Primp and Proper?" Jareth asked, sarcastically, with a dastardly sneer to match.

"And what of you?"

"...I think it would be better if I weren't a part of her lessons..." His voice trailed and faded, causing Roldan to worry his brow. Huh? "I have a feeling she'll be more inclined to listen to you, or at the very least give you the time of day." He added.

"As you've pointed out, we didn't exactly get off on the right foot." Jareth sighed.

"Then this is your chance to rectify that. Sarah will be Queen, and I would prefer it if you two could get along- maybe even be friendly. Who knows? The rest of her demeanor may start to even out if she finds some level of confidant in you." He explained. Roldan looked...pained.

"A friend?" He said, with a wince. Jareth closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

"You will give her a chance. Do you understand? You will be nice and proper and friendly and appeal to her lighter senses in an effort to save me maybe just one headache between now and then." Jareth began to ramble, exhaustingly it seemed, trying to fight off one such headache in question. Roldan stood more firm.

"Yes, Your Majesty. What would you like me to instruct her on?" He asked. Jareth looked away and waved a hand through the air.

"Everything." He said, "Everything that she will need to know in preparation for both the wedding and the upcoming celebration. You may prepare yourself in the west drawing room." He said.

"And what should you have me do about her...communication skills?" He asked. Jareth flashed to a statue and back again.

"I will handle _that_...and before you ridicule me further, know that she had no knowledge of such things prior to Davion's little incident. I will grant her some slack where that is concerned and I recommend you do as well." Roldan nodded, seeming to agree or at least understand this. He then turned as if to leave. "Also, before you go-" Jareth called out. Roldan paused, and glanced back over his shoulder. "Do not mention anything more of Aurelia to Sarah." He said. Roldan furrowed his brow.

"Sire?"

"You initially led her towards the east wing, last evening." He began to explain.

"Yes...I thought-"

"I know what you thought. And I am merely informing you never to bring it up again, understood?" He said. Roldan's gaze continued to narrow.

"Yes, Majesty...but, may I ask why?" Jareth paused before responding.

"There are many things Sarah doesn't know, and there are certain things she must come to know in stride...and I will be the one to tell her when I see fit. Until then, do not give her any means to question." He said, receiving a stern nod in response.

"...And why...have you placed her on the opposite side then?" He dared inquire.

"That is not your concern." Jareth said. And with the grim tone of his voice, Roldan bowed and took a step as if to leave.

"I feel as though there is still much to be discussed regarding this girl, Sire." He called out. Jareth wanted to groan.

"Later. You know enough to get you both through the day. Now, off with you." He said. For the third time, Roldan made way to leave. "And Roldan-" Jareth piped, "If you ever try to put your hands on her again, I'll crush them to a bloody pulp." Roldan stood for a moment, silent. He lowered his eyes, and bowed.

"Majesty." He murmured, and briskly left the room.

  



	24. Pawn To H4, part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While unbeknown to her, Sarah has succeeded in obtaining the one thing the Goblin King has desired for hundreds of years -power over the Labyrinth. After being hidden for years from his diabolical wrath, Sarah finds herself alone and vulnerable as Jareth's dark desires are finally aloud to rear their ugly heads. As always, the only question is, are things really as they seem?

Sarah waited until she heard the door shut behind Jareth before letting out her held breath, and counted to ten before actually venturing out of bed. He was gone? Why? She stood, awkwardly, for a moment, scratching the back of her head and giving the now vacant room a twisting expression. _Huh? He left? Why does he always leave on the strangest note? In the middle of a conversation? An actual conversation, not a fight? Gah! Bipolar ass-hole. _She shook her head and looked away, feeling lost and without purpose. Her toes splayed over the cold floor. _Jareth had stayed with her last night..._ She shivered; a draft had caught her legs. She drew up her shoulders and rubbed her arms. _He said he was sorry... _She took a step, but caught herself. _He came back... _She scrunched her brow, staring hard at the floor. It was too quiet. _Report to the west drawing room... Where was that again? _She wondered, in an effort to distract, or perhaps occupy her attention. She'd told Jareth she remembered, but...not really. She hummed to herself as she thought, and began to teeter on the ball of her heel. _When you're ready..._

She looked up, her arms falling limp at her sides. Something felt...different. The air was oddly still, sterile, and eerily quiet. She was alone. Why did she hate being alone? Maybe it was just the castle...or maybe it was the company... As she took in the tranquility of her surroundings, she couldn't help but think that it had something to do with the strange sense of complacency she was feeling. Surely, nothing had been resolved just now. Jareth didn't get it. They had talked but...not nearly enough was said. He still thought this was a game. This was not a game. She should still be angry... He said he was sorry. She was on the verge of pondering the reason for this newfound sense of repose, but a voice in the back of her head whispered not to prod, to just leave it be for now. She was on her own and free of torment. Savor it. Fine. She sighed, and stalked into the bathroom.

She took her time, as she usually did when almost sure that Jareth wasn't looming about on the other side of the wall. The hot water helped her to relax, but it was odd. She was already relaxed. She closed her eyes and sank lower into the tub, determined to soak until her toes were thoroughly pruned. _He did say when I was ready..._

When she was good and clean, she wrapped a towel around herself and ventured out into the main chamber, less fearful of what would be waiting for her. Jareth wasn't there. She knew he wouldn't be. And yet...

She had begun to pace towards her array of dressers when she heard a knock at the door.

Sarah's eyes shot up, surprised and mildly panicked. She stared at the empty space, at the resonance coming from around the corner. The knock came again. She darted her head from the sound back to the dresser. Not taking the time to think, she shot around the bed and whipped open the door of her armoire. Her eyes frantically searched its contents, her heart fluttering a bit when the thumping sound beaconed a third time.

Her brow shot up after spotting what she'd been looking for. In a mad dash, she shucked her towel for the robe Jareth had once provided for her. She tied the belt tight around her waist, making sure she was well concealed, and skipped to the door.

She came to a screeching halt in front of it and took a minute to catch her breath -why her heart was pounding, she didn't know. No one had ever knocked at her door before. She reached for the knob, and turned. The door eased open, revealing something she was surprised to have never even suspected.

Sarah's brow rose so high she actually teetered back a step, her face brightening, and her jaw dropping down slightly.

"Liana?" She asked, dubious, her expression gawking obnoxiously for just one second too long. She blinked rapidly and stepped aside to usher the woman in. "Please, come in."

Liana breezed into the room with the grace of a wayward feather, walking passed Sarah, only to stop in anticipation as she closed the door behind them.

"I'm sorry; I hope I'm not intruding?" She asked, half-turned to face her. Sarah looked up, and was just a tiny bit awe-struck for that brief moment.

Liana was a tall woman, much taller than Sarah. And she had the most elegant, slender features she'd ever seen. She was so pale, so much so that she glowed under the sun's rays. And she was smiling -she was always smiling- her eyes creased and her cheeks dimpled. Her dress was a light, shimmering green today and hugged her body like it was painted on. She was breathtaking, like an angel, or maybe something even better. Sarah's eyes flicked down, and with nervous fingers, she brushed a damp and tangled tendril of hair away from her face.

"No, no...I just got out of the shower...I'm sorry I'm not dressed." She said, and gave the woman a small shrug, shriveling under her radiance. Liana tilted her head, her smile warming.

"There's no need to apologize. I don't mind. If you'd like, I can leave." She suggested, and with that Sarah felt her heart sink to the floor -but she didn't know why. Her back straightened, and she started shaking her head from side to side.

"Oh! No. No, that's ok. I'd like you to stay." She spat in a rush. Why was she feeling so frantic? "Would you like to sit? Are you hungry? Is there something you wanted?" Liana waited before responding, giving her a minute to compose herself.

"It's been a few days...I wanted to check up on you." She said, and turned as she moved deeper into the room. Sarah scuttled close behind.

"Please, have a seat." Sarah said, gesturing towards a chair, just as she took the one adjacent, fiddling her hands along the way. She felt...unprepared.

Liana lowered herself into the chair, perching on the edge and crossing her legs ever-so-politely. Sarah wondered just how in the world she managed such a feat given her definite asphyxiation in her dress.

"Would you like something to eat? Or drink? Tea maybe?" Sarah asked, her voice quick and wavering. She felt nervous for some reason. Why was that? Liana rose an eyebrow at her, her lips curling ever so slightly.

"Tea would be wonderful." She answered, slowly. Darting her eyes away, Sarah reached over the table. Liana's gaze eagerly followed, and narrowed mischievously when she saw the girl's hand clasp around a bell. Without a thought, Sarah rang the tiny bell, and set it back in its place. "Where did you get that?" She asked. Sarah brought her eyes back to Liana's, blanching along the way.

"Oh...Jareth gave it to me." She mumbled, and shifted uncomfortably in her spot. Liana tilted her head to one side.

"Really?"

"Yea...in case I was hungry when he wasn't around."

"That's very convenient." Liana noted. Sarah tried not to roll her eyes.

"Yea, well...I shouldn't have to crawl to him for basic living necessities. It should be a given. " She grumbled. Her attention sprung when the door creaked open, and the iconic image of a Goblin carrying a dining tray came scurrying into the room. She leaned back, so the creature had some room as it deposited the tray on the table. Not wanting to miss another opportunity, Sarah caught the creature on the shoulder, tapping it until it gave her its attention. "Thank you." She said, in an effort to make up for all the other times her waiters had run off before she could get in a word of gratitude. It looked up to her, with a ghastly expression on its face. It was silent, long enough to cause Sarah's brow to furrow. She warily drew her hand away.

"Your Majesty is welcome." It said and quickly darted away. She gave the receding creature's back a peculiar eye, and curiously looked back to Liana -who didn't seem to notice the Goblin's presence at all. She reached out and took hold of a cup; Sarah was quick to mimic her movement. There was a small moment of silence.

"You look very beautiful, today."

Sarah's gaze, which had been fixated on the spoon she was now twirling in her cup, darted up at Liana's comment.

"Excuse me?" She asked, as if not hearing her correctly. Liana gave a small laugh.

"I said you look very beautiful today." She repeated, keeping her gaze at her cup. Sarah began to pout, not understanding.

"Thank you, but..."

"But?" She interjected. Sarah began to squirm, uncomfortably. "You don't think you're beautiful?" She asked, sounding a little incredulous herself. Sarah felt herself start to blush.

"I- I'm in a robe. I just got out of the shower-"

"And?"

"And I'm not in a beautiful dress with my hair all done up and wearing perfectly applied make-up." She rambled, her finger tapping restlessly against the handle of her spoon.

"Your point?" Sarah remained quiet, feeling that words were not necessary to communicate just how insecure she felt around this woman -one who always seemed to show up when she was in her most un-flattering state. It was surreal, and almost unwelcome, to be receiving compliments from her. "You are a very lovely girl, Sarah. There's no reason why you shouldn't see that. Jareth certainly does..." Liana's voice trailed off, purposefully, urging the girl to look up at her; like a tractor-beam, Sarah's gaze rose.

"Can we please not talk about Jareth?" She asked. Liana raised her cup to her lips.

"Trouble in paradise?" She asked, teasingly it seemed. Sarah frowned. There was something about Liana's tone...She didn't like it. Something seemed different...

"That is a grave understatement." Sarah grumbled. Liana was about to speak, but Sarah piped up just in time. "Where have you been the past few days?" She asked, eager to change the subject. Liana's open mouth thinned to a small grin.

"I've been busy...dealing with some matters regarding the kingdom."

"You mean the wall?" Sarah asked. Liana's brow rose.

"Yes, actually." She answered. Sarah smiled to herself, perked up by the fact that she actually knew something about something.

"You and Jareth were working together, then?" She asked. Liana set her cup down, gently.

"I thought you didn't want to talk about him?" She countered. Sarah rolled her head.

"I don't."

"Actually, I managed most of the reconstruction myself." She diverted. Sarah's eyes peered up.

"Really? Why?" She asked. Liana was quiet a moment, but thankfully, the silence was anything but suspicious.

"You remember what I said about differing forms of magic? It's easier for me to create new walls rather than have Jareth rebuild pre-existing ones." She explained, keeping her stare out in front of her as she spoke. Sarah, meanwhile, was busy gawking at her profile.

"Oh, I see. Do you know why the wall fell?" She asked, sounding so hopeful it was almost a desperate plea.

"Yes."

Sarah's excitement perked up, but after registering the recoil in the woman's voice, soon narrowed her eyes just a tad...

"Could you tell me?"

"I could."

Her mouth began to thin.

"Will you?"

"No."

Sarah huffed in her chair, more irritated than anticipated. Okay. This conversation was exactly the same as the one she'd had with Jareth. Why did no one want to tell her why the freaking wall fell? What was the big deal? UGH.

"Why?"

"I'm not at liberty to say." Liana answered, her voice completely neutral. Sarah's scowl gave way as her shoulders sagged. Seriously. Why wouldn't anyone tell her anything?

"Because of Jareth?" She inquired in a cold shrill. Liana took another sip of her tea and nodded just as the rim touched her lips. _Mmmm..._ Sarah groaned to herself. _God damned Jareth. Why is this such a big secret!_ It was gnawing at her- not necessarily the reason why it fell, but the reason Jareth didn't want her to know. What could it possibly be? Her imagination was slowly taking over the matter and that was never good. She was quiet a moment, caught brooding in the fumes of her irritation.

"So, how you are doing?" Liana quirked, in an effort to reroute Sarah's train of thought.

"I'm fine, I guess." She grumbled, crossing her arms over her chest in an annoyed fashion.

"You don't look fine. Something's bothering you." Liana pointed out. Sarah sighed.

"I'm being held captive by an abusive magical maniac who plans on making me his personal bed warmer for the rest of eternity. Yes, you could say something is bothering me." She said. Liana flashed a smirk, but the gesture was missed.

"You said you don't want to talk about Jareth, remember?" Sarah peered up out of the corner of her eye.

"I know, but it doesn't seem like I have much else to talk about." Sarah retorted, slouching a bit in her seat.

"Sure you do."

"Like what?"

"Well, how do you like the Underground? Are you in favor with your new home?" She asked, sounding oh-so hopeful that it only made Sarah sink further.

"This is not my new home." She stated, firmly, and straightened in her seat. Liana shrugged empathetically.

"Of course it is.."

"No. My home, my only home, is in the Aboveground. My home is with my family; with my Dad, Toby and Karen. My home is at my school, with my friends, with humans, without magic, without Goblins."

"Very well, but what of my first question?" She asked. Sarah quirked a brow.

"How do I like the Underground? Well...I haven't seen very much of it. I've been cooped up in this stupid castle all week and no one will tell me anything!" She said, her arms flailing up and falling dead in her lap as she scowled out at nothing. She started shaking her head to herself. Liana began to pout.

"But, you've been out in the city. You have free reign over your days...the library is at your disposal...You have every means of exploring..."

"Yes, well, I've been finding myself rather preoccupied with trying to fight off my captor to do much of anything else." She grumbled, her eyes narrowing into slits. Liana gave her a wry smile then, she knew Sarah's true feelings, and it was rather amusing to see her put on such a display.

"Well, captor aside, how do you favor our world?" She asked, again. This time, Sarah actually took the time to think over an answer.

"I think it's..." She started, but paused as she began to wince uncomfortably, and cocked her head to one side. "It's beautiful, really, really beautiful." She stopped, and looked up to Liana with uncertainty.

"That it is. Are you adjusting well, then?" Sarah scowled.

"Adjusting?" She repeated, but was left hanging when Liana remained silent. She thought a moment, and grew deeply disturbed. "I'm...trying. I mean, I'm here... I'm not going anywhere. It would be stupid to even try...so I know I need to get over it. I need to move on...and _adjust_..." She began to explain, but it was directed more at herself than to her companion.

"You look confused, what's on your mind?" Liana prompted. Sarah's scowl only grew more twisted

"I...I don't know." She said, lowering her gaze to her lap. Liana leaned in, and placed a hand gently over Sarah's knotting fingers. A shiver shot up Sarah's spine, instantly soothed by her touch -which wasn't strange in the slightest. She sighed, and closed her eyes.

"Sarah, you can talk to me. I want to help you. Tell me, what are you feeling?" She quietly urged, tightening her fingers ever-so-slightly. The pulses surged through Sarah's being, her anxiety, her troubles lulled by its rhythm. She let out a deep breath, her walls evaporating.

"I...I just don't know. I mean...I know I need to get over being kidnapped, hanging on to that will only drag me down, keep me miserable, and kill me in the end. I need to accept being here, I know that. It's healthier that way, it's rational that way. It's just..."

"Just, what?"

"I just...didn't think it would be so easy." She said, her hand fisting beneath Liana's. There was a heady silence then, as if her admission had just damned her soul to Hell. Liana's grip became more firm, the pulse intensifying to such a degree that it actually became a cool fluidity moving through her veins. For reasons completely unknown to Sarah, she felt an overwhelming urge to open her mouth and start spilling her guts. "I mean, one part of my brain knows that is what I should do, and that_ is_ what I am trying to do. But another part of me is screaming that I should be angry. I should be outraged. I should in no way even think about accepting what's happened, let alone try to move past it. I mean, seriously; it's been one week! One freaking week! I should be going on hunger strikes and refusing to leave my room! I know that's stupid, that kind of behavior isn't beneficial to me in the slightest, but...but shouldn't I do something? Shouldn't I _feel_ something?" She looked up into Liana's eyes then, hopeless and desperate.

"But you do feel something, tell me what it is." She asked, in the most gentle of caresses. Sarah swallowed and worried her brow.

"I feel...fine."

"Fine?"

"Yes...fine. Content. At ease. Don't get me wrong, I'm not happy or anything even close to that, but...I'm not angry with being here. I don't hate this place. I'm...comfortable. This room, this castle, the Labyrinth, all of it. I just...I don't know...I just didn't think I would get over being taken so easily...and I feel horrible for it. I feel like I'm this horrible, awful, despicable person. How can I just let go like that? I- I miss my family. I do. But, I'm not losing sleep over it. And I think...I know I should. I should be more upset, and I'm just not. And that...is what upsets me, what makes me angry." She finished her tirade by exhaling deeply. It felt good getting something off her chest. She had no one to talk to besides Jareth, after all; and there was no way she would break down enough to have a complicated heart to heart with _him_. She looked up when Liana's grip loosened.

"Sarah...that is completely normal." She said. Sarah's brow rose, outraged with Liana's reply.

"What?"

"You think you should feel or behave one way, but rarely is our true nature actually what we think it is; what we think it should be. People react differently to different situations. You're smart, and rational. You're a survivor. It's only natural to say you have the ability to adapt. Your guilt only comes from the notion of how you think other people act. But you aren't other people. You're you, Sarah. And if you truly feel at ease, why beat yourself up over it?"

"Because I shouldn't be at ease! And it's like half of my brain knows that, and the other half is trying with all its might snuff it out. I can feel it. It's crazy, but I swear I can actually feel the war waging in my brain." She exclaimed, exasperated. Liana eased back a bit, weighing the pros and cons of what she was about to reveal to her.

"Sarah...if I told you there was a reason for that, would it make you feel any better?" She inquired. Sarah peered up, giving Liana her full attention. Liana shifted in her seat before she spoke. "The reason you feel so comfortable here, is because deep down_ this is_ your true home. _This_ is where you belong." Sarah's eyes began to narrow.

"No. It's not." She said, her voice low and sterile.

"Yes, yes it is. Do you remember our previous conversation in the library? When I told you about the protection you garnered after you defeated the Labyrinth?" She asked. Sarah nodded, warily. "You've been touched, Sarah. Touched by this world, touched my its magic." Liana spoke carefully, her wording quickly approaching the line she could not cross. She couldn't reveal anything about their connection. She had to figure it out on her own, or Liana could spur her awakening, so any talk about the subject was closely censored. But Liana thought her phrasing through quickly, so any hesitation went unnoticed on Sarah's part.

"So.."

"So, now that you're back..."

"So, now that I'm back...the magic that touched me -like an imprint?- is back home now. So..."

"So, you too feel as though you are back home. And it is true. This IS where you belong, Sarah. You are as much a part of this world as I, or Jareth. You may not accept it, but it is the truth. Think back over your years in the Above, it wasn't the same after you returned, was it?" She asked. Sarah's brow began to sag, a frown slowly encroaching on her features.

"I...I don't know. I've never thought..." Liana sensed a wave of sadness about to crash, and quickly placed her hand back over Sarah's.

"It's alright. It's a lot to grasp, I know. I just...I don't want you to tear yourself up over something that -in part- may be out of your control. You're feeling guilt that isn't yours. I don't wish to see you in pain, Sarah. Truly. The war you're going through, it's not apathy, you're simply acclimating." She said, in an effort to console. Sarah's frown deepened. How was she supposed to even begin processing that? Her body, her mind was -acclimating? Choosing, making her want to stay, making her want to belong? Just one more thing that was now out of her control... Her lip began to quiver, and she bit it in an effort to restrain herself, and turned her gaze away. Was she really so powerless?

"This is so...so... stupid!" She spat. Liana's brow shot up in surprise, and she almost drew her hand away, wary as to how Sarah would react to any more of her influence. But she remained quiet, sensing Sarah about to blow a gasket. _Who knows, perhaps a strong venting will be good for her?_ "I get kidnapped, and tricked, and ordered and pushed around. I'm abused and alone, and at the mercy of what ever that devil tells me to do, and now I find out not even my emotions are under my control? This is ridiculous. Stupid! It's! It's not fair!" She spat, which was quickly followed by a pitiful sob.

Liana lurched forward suddenly, placing both hands on either side of Sarah's arms.

"Sarah, calm down, please. It's not that bad. Your emotions are still your own. All I've said is that the reason you're adjusting so quickly is because you're meant to be here. You were always meant to be here. And that is a good thing isn't it? Don't you want to adjust? And it doesn't make you a horrible person. Please, I hate to see you like this, my intention was to put you at ease, not upset you further." She stammered, quickly, against her own accord. Their bond went two ways after all; while Sarah could receive her influence, Liana was under a constant compulsion to maintain Sarah's well-being. She would, had to, do anything she could in an effort to keep her happy and out of distress.

Sarah eased up immediately.

It was quiet a moment, the only sound being Sarah's sniffles as she straightened her back and tried to compose herself. Liana let out a breath, thankful she had successfully disarmed the ticking time bomb of Sarah's emotional circuit -this time.

"I've been here for a week, Liana. One week. One week during which I was abducted, told my family would be murdered if I didn't comply, viciously assaulted, physically, sexually, mentally. I've been threatened, hurt, tricked, and manipulated. I'm completely alone here. I don't know anything. Anything. I've had so much thrown at me, and I have no idea what to do. I just...I feel...or, I think...ugh... No more. I just want to put my foot down and say no. I'm done. It's over. Just be done with it."

"Sarah..."

"I could just be over with it. Be done with all this, before something worse happens. The way I see it now...my future doesn't look too bright. I want to be happy, Liana, I do. I want to live. But...if surviving is all I'll have, what's the point? If I'm doomed to being angry and sad for the rest of my existence, why bother? Why bother with any of it? What's stopping me from just throwing myself out a window? Honestly?"

Liana's attention jumped a second time. This was not good. Not good at all. She wasn't sure if these were really Sarah's thoughts, or were just manifests of the amount of energy Liana had pulsed into her, but either way, they would not stand. Part of Liana's obligation to Sarah was to protect her, to keep her safe from harm, harm from others, as well as from herself. There was no way, no way Liana could permit Sarah to finish processing, let out carry out an act of suicide. It was completely out of the question. The situation needed damage control, fast. But, that was all a consequence of all the over stimulation Liana was purging into Sarah's core. Adding life force meant she would fight, she would want to live, she would have energy; but at the same time, it was simply raw force, where it was deposited was completely up to Sarah. This made any and all alteration of her emotional state extremely unstable, as was demonstrated the last time Liana offered a helping hand...perhaps these thoughts really were just a reaction to the current flow. The bouncing dial of Sarah's hormonal gauge needed stabilizing -and perhaps further testing.

"Sarah, listen to yourself, is it really so bad here? Is Jareth so cruel to you?" She asked, and with one simple graze of her finger tips, sent a huge burst of force straight to into the heart of Sarah's emotional core. Sarah's gaze flickered up, her eyes widening exponentially. "I know your spirit, Sarah. You're a fighter. You don't back down. You don't give up. So how can you say these things? You've managed to hold your own thus far, haven't you? Things here aren't as bad as you're making them out to be, and you know it. Like you said, it's only been one week. Things will take time. Change takes time. But it's not all bad is it? What of the world you think is so beautiful? What of the creatures you care for so deeply? What of the wonders that await you? The infinite possibilities that this world can grant you? There is so much waiting for you, you can't give up. I told you once before, never to submit. You must fight, Sarah. You must fight to survive, you must fight to live. You must. You will."

Sarah felt her heart begin to beat faster and faster, but she wasn't sure it was Liana's words that were causing it. She felt...invigorated, enthralled. Her attentions stood on end, her eyes widened, her back straightened. She had so much energy. It was like she'd downed 5 energy drinks in the past 30 seconds. What the? Her lashes fluttered rapidly and she swallowed hard, trying to control this strange burst of energy before it blew her to shreds.

"But, I don't want to fight forever." She said, her voice a high quirk. Liana shook her head.

"Fine, fine, fine, then don't. That's my point. Do what _you_ what. Do what makes _you_ happy. Just don't give up." Sarah's brow started to twist again.

"But- I don't understand."

"You're not meant to. That's life. Stop over-thinking it." She said, and leaned back when she sensed that Sarah's downward spiral was no linger eminent. Sarah leaned back as well, seriously contemplating everything Liana had just said, bringing a hand to her heart as she struggled to control her pulse.

"I'm just...really confused, is all...I don't know...after last night...my head's been in a bit of a jumble." She murmured, distracted with her still streaming rush of adrenaline. What was going on? Why did she feel this way? She wanted to get up and run a marathon.

Liana pursed her lips. Of course, she knew what had happened to Sarah last night, but she knew better then to try to pry it out of her. It was personal for her, and after sensing what she was feeling while it happened, realized that a pep talk from her was not the solution. Though...it seemed the solution she'd warranted wasn't much better. It had her wondering now, though, how did Jareth handle everything? Whether or not she would admit it, Sarah was much more at ease now, in regards to last night's discrepancy, she could feel it. She'd wanted his presence. Why? Liana was still unsure, but she wanted him nonetheless. And now? Now everything was just lost in a sea of grey. She had so much turmoil, but even with their connection, it was hard to decipher exactly what the root cause of it was. All she was really concerned with now, however, was distracting her from her previous thoughts and potential curiosity over just why in the world she felt suddenly able to take on all of the Underground.

"What happened last night?" She dared ask, in an effort to deter her attentions away from her beating heart. It seemed to work, as Sarah removed the hand from her chest, and slouched back in her chair as she glared, any and all traces of woe and despair fading away -like it never happened. A tiny sneer curled the corner of Liana's lips; she would rather have Sarah be angry than self-pitying. Anger was good. Anger was passion. Passion was life.

"Jareth happened last night." She said, with a sting.

"Would you like to talk about it?"

"No...not really." She mumbled, her lowered eyes darting uncomfortably around the room. Liana turned and reached for her now cool tea, a gesture that helped bring back some of the casualness of their once quaint discussion.

"Did he hurt you?" She asked.

Sarah tensed, noticeably, her eyes widening as if alarmed. Liana observed, taking in each twitch and subtle flinch she saw as Sarah tried to mask her expression. She was hesitant in her answer, opening her mouth slightly, struggling to get the words out.

"N...no." She said, as if not sure that was the right answer. Liana's brow softened into the faintest frown; she knew otherwise. She knew better than to ask if she meant physically or not.

"I know you said you don't want to talk about him, but I want to ask you: how are things between you? Has anything gotten better?" She asked, warily, but for more reasons than Sarah was aware of.

Liana's number one concern was for Sarah's well-being. But, the kingdom was a close second; and given the fact that Sarah's hold lay dormant, Liana's will was free enough to act on its own terms, for the most part. This was a game, a game between she and Jareth; Sarah just so happened to be a very unlucky pawn. So, while Jareth cast his tricks and made his moves, Liana had moved to a completely different board. There were plans, and then there were plans. And in Liana's plan, everyone was a pawn, with the only real differing factor being that: in Liana's game, luck and chance were two completely different things, and not in any way mutually exclusive.

Sarah remained quiet and stern. Had things gotten any better between them? She wanted to say no, but knew that would be a lie; but saying yes felt like an equal lie. Things were changing, slowly, but that didn't mean it was better, did it? He seemed to be changing...but then again, he was the most mercurial, bipolar being she'd ever met. Who knew what was going on in his head? All she really knew, was that that morning he'd told her he was sorry, and for some reason, that seemed like a really big deal to her. He'd also fractured her arm the other night.

"I wouldn't say better. Things are...more comfortable, like a routine, I would say. It's different from when I first got here, so that's something, I guess..." She answered, her tone flat and her gaze hollow. Liana's lips thinned.

"I'm sorry to hear that." She said. Sarah shifted, placing her elbow on the table and resting her jaw in her hand.

"Yea...me too." She murmured. That perked Liana's attention.

"Yes?" She asked, her voice quirking up just a bit. Sarah sighed, and shrugged.

"Well, yeah. Why wouldn't I want things to be better between us? Heck, I wish he was my God damned Prince Charming" She said. Liana turned her head slightly, curious as to what Sarah was getting at.

"Excuse me?" She asked. Sarah huffed, sagging further towards the table.

"I have to marry him. I have to spend the rest of my life with him. Of course I want us to be better, complacent, friendly even. I'll even go out on a limb and say totally smitten. I won't be happy until I'm happy with Jareth. I know that. But I won't just let him off the hook. I won't give in to him the way he is now. I can't -I won't forgive him. He's cruel, and manipulative, and arrogant, and can be so horrible. So, whatever prospect of happiness that I'm imagining might happen later down the road...I probably won't get it."

"I'm not sure I understand you...why does your happiness depend on Jareth?" She asked. Sarah looked up then, incredulous that Liana had even asked her such a question.

"Because he's the reason for all of this. He's the reason I'm here, the reason I know about this world in the first place. I have to live with him, deal with him, listen to him, have his kids, be his wife. He controls everything. Everything in this new life of mine reverts back to him...he's like...like a rock, or a root, holding me down. So...how can I possibly be happy in life, if I'm not happy with him?" She asked.

A smile began to creep along Liana's lips, its presence only bringing confusion to Sarah's.

"Sarah, have you ever thought that perhaps your misery is your own fault?" She asked. Sarah sat back at that, offended at her comment, and was about to retort when Liana smiled openly, and carried on. "You're basing your happiness around something that you yourself say will never grant you it. You're putting Jareth at the center of your world. Have you ever thought what would happen if he wasn't?"

Sarah's flare of anger diffused into something akin to confusion and intrigue. She closed her open mouth, giving Liana the signal to continue.

"You're basing everything around him. If you don't think you can be happy with him, then take him out of the picture, stop depending on his relevance. You can find happiness outside of Jareth, Sarah. If you put anger and misery as the core of your existence, then that is all you will have. Stop relying on him. Perhaps the reason you can't find what you're looking for is because you are simply looking in the wrong place."

Sarah began to grow uncomfortable the more Liana talked, but she wasn't quite sure why. She didn't like it. Didn't like what she was saying. It was bothering her on a much deeper level than she chose to acknowledge.

"Jareth is not the core of my existence." She interjected, just trying to get a word in and breakup the unwelcome sense of anxiety that was quickly blossoming in the pit of her stomach. Liana pursed her lips.

"Isn't he? Didn't you just say he was the root holding you down? You're the one who put him there, Sarah. The world is bigger than just Jareth and this castle, look beyond it. Happiness lies beyond the door you choose not to open."

"I have nothing else..."

"Sure you do. You're going to be a Queen. You have the entire world at your disposal, total freedom to do whatever you want, to see and experience whatever you want. You simply don't know it yet. There are other things in life to love, open up to it."

"See, you say that, and I can't help but question. I have no idea what else is out there, no idea how to even go about what you're saying. I would like to, but right now all I have is Jareth. And at the end of the day, all I will have is Jareth. I had dreams. I had aspirations. I wanted to get married and have a family. I wanted to fall in love, and laugh, and cry and smile. I still want that. The only problem is, now, if I'm going to have that, it HAS to be with Jareth, and I don't know if I have it in me..." Her voice trailed, her mind warning her as to how much information she was revealing, and quickly back-peddled from her next sentence. She looked up, eager to change the subject as soon as possible. "I'm just...alone in this place, struck deaf, blind and dumb. I need something to look forward to...something to hope for. Hope at all."

"I think..." Liana started, pausing to take a sip of tea (Sarah's cup long forgotten), "that all you really need is a heading. Once you get your bearings, you'll start to view the world from a new perspective. In the mean time, find something to hope for that isn't Jareth. You'll go mad otherwise. And that's all the advice I can really give you." She said. Sarah nodded to herself, as some sort of understanding leveled out her wavering mind.

Something...something had changed during their conversation. She actually felt a lot better now. Hmm... It was strange. She could swear she went through every emotion just now, and yet it all felt so far away. She'd been so upset just moments before, hadn't she? But right now she just felt...good. But she was venting- this was what she needed. Hadn't she been yearning for another talk with this woman? For the very reason she was now questioning? Talking to this mysterious stranger always made her feel better...it was like she helped to screw her head on just a little bit straighter after Jareth had twisted it near clean off. She exhaled, and reached for her cup. She took a sip, enjoying the complacent silence and let her eyes wander about the room. Then she jumped, and almost spit her tea out over the table as she realized they'd been talking for about two hours now.

"Ssssshit!" She sputtered, setting her cup down as gently as she could to avoid spilling it. Liana perked up in her seat, and brought a hand to her chest as she watched with worry.

"Oh dear, are you alright?" She asked. Sarah's panicky gaze flared up to hers, before instantly dimming back. She started laughing then. She leaned back in her seat, and began chewing on her thumb as she continued to snicker to herself.

"Sorry...I just noticed how long we've been talking." She said. Liana's brow worried in confusion. "I was supposed to meet Jareth somewhere." She explained. Liana rose a brow, a smirk of her own threatening to break through. "But...he didn't say when...only when I was ready...and I'm not ready yet, am I?" She asked, rhetorically, her grin stretching from ear to ear as if it was the most hysterical thing she had ever heard.

"Should I leave, then? I don't want to be cause for any trouble." Liana said. Sarah sat up, and waved off her comment.

"Oh, no. It's been this long and he hasn't come for me, maybe this is his way for making up for last night." She said. She'd meant it as a joke, but after playing over her own statement, realized that might not be such a stretch As she was slowly learning, if Jareth seemed weak or uncomfortable in anything, it was admitting when he was wrong, and/or trying to deal with it. Giving her time, or simply avoiding her was starting to make sense as a possible means of consolation...Hmm...

Liana ignored the last half of Sarah's comment by taking another sip.

"Well then, can I ask what you were supposed to meet him for?" She asked. Sarah shrugged.

"He wants me to take lessons."

"Lessons?" Sarah tried not to groan.

"Yes. Lessons. Apparently, I'm atrocious, disrespectful, and ignorant. He wants me to learn about how to be a proper and presentable Queen." She said, trying to list some of the words Roldan had used to describe her. She looked up, not quite expecting to find Liana's gaze as bright as it was.

"Why, Sarah, that's perfect." She said. Sarah wriggled her brow.

"What? Perfect? No, I don't think so. Every time the word_ lesson_ is mentioned, it's usually followed by something unpleasant and detrimental to my well-being." She said, _almost_sarcastically. Liana gave her an eye.

"Sarah, these lessons are not a bad thing." She said. Sarah was about to pipe up, but Liana held up a finger, and continued. "I know what you're thinking, and I'm going to tell you why you're wrong. First, you keep saying how you don't know anything about the Underground. This will be an opportunity to learn as much as you want. Second, you do need to learn proper etiquette."

"I am not that bad-" Sarah interjected, "All this is, is just another way for Jareth to tell me what to do, how to act, what the consequences will be. I am still my own person. I may be stuck here, but he can't control everything-"

"Sarah, please, you must understand...these lessons are not meant to conform you." She said. Sarah shut her mouth for the moment. "In case you haven't noticed, Jareth lets you behave however you wish, does he not?" She asked. Sarah tried not to glare.

"Aside from a few key instances, I suppose..."

"You speak, dress, act as you like here. This is your home, your castle. These lessons are not meant to change you, Sarah. They're meant to protect you."

"Protect me?"

"Yes. There are rules in Fae society. Rules which _everyone_ must abide by: Jareth, Roldan, everyone. Not just you. You'll come to see, that the way Jareth acts here, around you, in private, will be very different than the way he acts around others, in a formal gathering. It has nothing to do with controlling you. It is like this for everyone. You must learn how to act in order to protect yourself from others. It can be devastating not to be accepted in court. This is for your benefit. Embrace it, Sarah. Give it a chance. Pay attention, try to learn some things. Not everything has to be negative." She explained. Sarah's mouth hung agape, as if waiting for an opening to speak, yet she was unsure of what she wanted to say. It was quiet as Sarah waited for the words to perch themselves on the tip of her tongue.

"...Ok...what you're saying makes sense...I guess...I guess I can give it a chance." She said. Liana smiled, but otherwise remained quiet. Sarah began to peer around the room, all this talk of lessons making her feel as though she should probably get up and go to them. "Well...since this is so important, I should probably finish getting ready, then." She murmured, eyeing her dresser as if it might open should she stare hard enough. Liana placed her hands in her lap.

"Of course, I've taken too much of your time as it is." She said, and made move to stand.

"I think we're well past the point of no return." Sarah added, and rose to her feet. Liana moved away from her chair, about to depart, when a small light bulb flickered in the back of Sarah's head. _When I'm ready? Ha! Fine. I'll take as long as I need._ Her eyes lit up with an idea, and she started to smile as she said, "Hey...if you don't mind, I have a question..." Liana paused mid-step, and looked back expectantly.

"Yes?" She asked. Sarah padded across the room, and teetered on her heel as she tried not to appear as nervous as she suddenly felt.

"This keeps coming up, and I was wondering...if you could tell me...a little bit about appropriate attire. I've been...getting a lot of crap for the way I dress and...I was just wondering if you could shed some light as to what I should be wearing. I don't really want to ask Jareth...he'd probably take it the wrong way..." She said, raising an arm to stretch awkwardly behind her head as she spoke.

"Shouldn't you be on your way?" Liana asked, concerned. Sarah rolled her eyes.

"Oh, what's one more hour? I'm already late, might as well make it worth my while." She said. Liana pondered a moment, but it didn't take long for her face to light up like the forth of July.

"I believe you may have a point. Well then, alright, I would love to show you some things." She said, sounding so giddy and girly, that Sarah was almost reconsidering. _Oh boy, here we go.._. She took a step to the side as Liana moved passed her, at a brisk pace, straight to her dressers. "I'll try to be quick and run through just a couple examples, you really shouldn't keep His Majesty waiting so long..." She said, and began rummaging through Sarah's closets. Sarah on the other hand, could only stand awkwardly off to the side, twiddling her thumbs as she wondered just what in the world this woman was looking for so feverishly, and why she was so excited over it. Suddenly, Liana pulled back with a mountain of fabric in her arms. Sarah's eyes widened. _Oh, God, what have I gotten myself into? _She took a cautious step towards the bed..

"We'll start with this-" Liana said, holding up one garment in particular. It was a dress. It was thin, and plain. There was no corset or full shirt or plunging neckline. This one was yellow. It had short sleeves, and a skirt that flowed to about mid-calf. Sarah pursed her lips while looking at it. It was something like a medieval-esque sun dress. And it was actually very pretty.

"So, what is this?" Sarah asked, with just a smidgen of sarcastic charm. It was amusing seeing Liana like this, acting so...out of character, so...human. It made her seem less ominous.

"Well, this would be something you would wear casually while in the castle." She said. Sarah's brow furrowed. _Hmm...it's not as extravagant as I imagined... _She thought. "Not what you were expecting, I see?" Sarah shook her head.

"No...it's...very simple. I expected something with more...flare, or at least more layers." She said. Liana giggled.

"Contrary to any presumptions you may have, Underground fashion is as eclectic as Above. Though, it is quite uniform that the Fae believe in comfort, and accessibility. -Keep that in mind later on- So, this is the type of dress you could wear from day to day."

"Are there other types?" Sarah asked.

"Yes. There are other styles, of course. But, I don't think that's what you're really referring to." She said, and set the dress down and started searching for something else. "You like wearing trousers, don't you?" She asked. Sarah cracked an awkward smirk.

"Uh, yea. I guess." She said, and was surprised when Liana then presented an assortment of articles, noting that among the bunch were pants and a shirt.

"The clothing you've been wearing...they're fine, only...slightly primitive, and just a tad too androgynous. Definitely not fit for a Queen. To your ease, Underground fashion does include things other than skirts for women, however. Here, why don't you go put this on?" She suggested, and handed the mound to Sarah, who could only purse her lips in amusement as she humored the woman by turning in her spot and trudging wordlessly into the bathroom.

It took her a minute to come out, having been caught by her own reflection. She felt...promiscuous. She stared at herself in the bathroom mirror for a long while, simply observing the way her body looked in her new attire. Liana had given her black leggings, leggings so tight and shinny it looked like someone had simply painted her. Her shirt was altered, as well: it was fitted in the waist, and had a dangerously low plunging neck line. The back was longer than the front, and hung down past her rear in gentle folds. She was given a corset as well, though it wasn't the boned, form-fitting kind she'd been dreading. It was strictly fashionable, covered in thick red velvet with some kind of floral design embroidered on it. It had ties, but they were hidden by a wide belt. The look was topped by thigh high boots with a just barely comfortable 3 inch heel. She looked...good...and creepily like Jareth. She didn't know how to feel about that... And at the same time, there were enough distinctly feminine differences to say the exact opposite. There was no doubt that she was indeed a woman in this outfit, something which could have been up for debate regarding her previous outfits. But, similarities and differences aside, she looked hot. She felt hot. And that...wasn't really something she was sure she wanted to go for. It was all a bit much. She turned, and bent forward, observing the way the light shinned off the curve of her rear. Yea...this probably wasn't a good thing. She felt like an _actress_ in some well-funded, cheesy pirate porno.

But, moving past all her foreboding, she had to come out sometime, and so she stared at the floor as she wandered back into the room. Liana's hands were clasped up in front of her face.

"Oh, my, Sarah, you look wonderful!" She exclaimed, giddy and bubbly, and sweet as pie. Sarah smiled down at the floor. _Oy vey._

"So, this is how I should dress from day to day?" She asked.

"Well, that is how you would dress if you were to spend the day riding, or hunting or something like that. Usually, you_ would_ wear a dress. But, as I said, at home it is your choice."

A very specific part of Liana's sentence stuck to Sarah, causing her to look up. _Hunting? Me? What? Don't the men usually hunt? I didn't think..._

"Well, now that you're out, we can continue." Liana spoke up, fanning away Sarah's train of thought. She looked up, giving the overly-excited woman her full attention. "This would be for something a little more formal, like a dinner gathering, or a small, non-formal celebration." She said, and held up yet another dress.

Now this one had Sarah's brow in a twist. Whatever she was expecting, this wasn't it. This one was a pale blue, and looked like it was made of silk. It was long sleeved, and had a straight neckline that hung off the shoulders and dipped down in the center in a very sharp and narrow V, almost to the navel. The skirt was one layer, and was floor length in the back, yet only went above the knee in the front. Sarah cocked her head to one side. She'd never quite seen a dress like this.

"Would I have to wear some kind of corset with this one, simply because it's so thin?" Sarah asked, trying to sound like she knew something. Liana tried not to laugh.

"Oh, no. It's meant to be thin, it accents the figure much more naturally that way." Liana informed, but Sarah was only half listening. She was too busy wondering how showing so much skin was considered proper... "Moving on," Liana said, and set the dress back in its pile. "This is for a formal gathering..."

The next dress was big, big in the sense that there was a lot of material; but, it wasn't fat or poofy. Actually, it was deflated, and sagged in heaps of thin folds. It was a dark, olive green, and was very shiny. It reminded her of some of the dresses she'd seen in her dream...the one in the crystal ballroom. It was secured around the neck by a thin golden cord, one that she imagined would snap from the weight of all the material. It was a messy bundle that drew in tight at the waist, but gave no clue as to her form anywhere else. It had billowing sleeves, and layer upon layer of skirts. There was a slit -no, no not a slit, the skirts drew up and shorted to the point of indecency up the right thigh. Again, Sarah found herself asking: why? The more formal the event, the more skin needed to be shown?

"What about the dresses you wear?" Sarah asked. Liana seemed to blanche, and looked down over herself, then back up to Sarah.

"Ah, well, as I said, fashion is still a choice. This is what I choose as casual-wear." She said. Sarah's brow rose, impressed.

"So...I could dress like that?"

"If you wanted, yes. The only things that really dictate what you _have_ to wear, are ceremonial gatherings, and gatherings that involve sentiment or respect. Otherwise, it's mostly preference, and tradition." She said. Sarah nodded. This all seemed...reasonable. Hm, who'da thunk? Sarah's gaze lowered as she thought, but soon darted back when Liana suddenly twitched.

She stood, about to set the dress back on the bed, when a tremor suddenly shot through her. She straightened and stared at the floor, focusing intently on something. Sarah frowned, was about to speak up, when the woman turned and smiled at her.

"I'm sorry. I'm being called away." She said. Sarah took a step forward.

"Oh...that's ok. Is something wrong?" She asked. Liana turned away and began piling all the clothes back into the armoire.

"Nothing to worry about, just something I need to see to." She said and gently closed the double doors. "Thank you for speaking with me, Sarah." She said, turning to give her a million dollar smile.

"Thank you for coming...I needed someone to talk to." She said and tried not to wobble from side to side. Goodbyes were always awkward.

"I'm always here if you need me." She said, and moved to stand in front of her. She smiled brighter, and rose her hands to clasp either side of Sarah's arms. "Please, give this world a chance. Don't give up. Not everything is as it seems." She said, and moved her hands to cup her cheeks. Sarah smiled, like a five-year-old, trying not to seem too bashful. There was just something about her...she couldn't describe it..

"I will, thank you."

"You look lovely, by the way. I enjoy having some girl time, every now and then. I hate having to be so serious all the time." She said.

"Yea...me too. Maybe you can show me more next time. I'm sure I'll have more questions by the next time I see you." Sarah suggested. Liana smiled and nodded, removing her hands from Sarah's face and moving towards the window.

"I'll be looking forward to it." She said, and placed her hands on the window sill. "And Sarah? Regardless of everything, do try to _let yourself_ be happy. Consider what is important, and what is...necessary" and with Sarah's next blink, the beautiful stranger was gone.

* * *

Sarah padded precariously down the corridor, careful of how loud her heels echoed as they clicked over the stone floor. She felt awkward and bumbling in them. They were higher than she was used to, and told herself to actually_ look _before accepting any more articles of clothing from Liana; _she_ may be able to float about her day like this, but Sarah was more than comfortable flat-footed. Ah, that was probably the one thing she disliked about theater- the shoes. She lowered her head to watch her feet as she took one step after another. _3 inches isn't bad...Come on, Sarah, you've seen Becky in skyscraper heels, I think you can handle these... _She lectured herself, as she delved deeper and deeper in the catacomb halls of the castle.

She peered about as she traveled, wondering how she had absolutely no clue where she was going, and yet knew exactly which corners to take, which doors to open. Surely, one tour of the castle wasn't enough to have learned everything. As she glanced from one door to the next, she marveled at the mysterious knowledge she held of what awaited behind each one. _It has to be the castle...there's no way..._

She rounded a corner, and almost hopped to the side as she made way for a Goblin as it scuttled past, impulsively bowing to her along the way. Hmm... It made her think back to the waiter Goblin she'd encountered that morning. _Why did it look so upset when I thanked it? _She quietly wondered.

The next hall opened up to a wall of windows. The light, along with fresh air, was a welcome reprieve. She slowed as she walked by, her eyes catching on the painted backdrop of the Underground. _It really is beautiful... _She thought, and wondered what else the landscape had to offer, what other paintings were waiting for her gaze. She had no idea, but the Underground seemed like a colossal realm. Was that an appropriate word? Was it a realm? Or was it a world? Was there an entire planet? An entire universe? Or was it, this place, just a place. Where were the boundaries? Where did it end? And if it did end, what lay beyond that? Her brow grew puzzled as she pondered these various questions.

_You're going to be a Queen. You have the entire world at your disposal, total freedom to do whatever you want, to see and experience whatever you want. You simply don't know it yet. There are other things in life to love, open up to it_. Her mind murmured Liana's words in the background.

"I just don't know it yet." She whispered, and stopped dead to stare out the closest window. _You have no idea how grand this life could be, all the things I could give you, how happy you could be, if you would only give it a chance._ Jareth had told her that the other day; its haunting reappearance putting a damper on her contemplations. Both he and Liana had been telling her of how much this world had to offer her, how wonderful it was, but what did that mean? She knew this place was magical, that alone offered up an almost infinite number of possibilities- possibilities she knew she couldn't fathom. _Give it a chance? Give the Underground a chance?_ She rolled her head from side to side as she thought this over._Can I do that? Can I give this place -this life- a chance?_ Her first instinct was a solid no, but she stopped it from surfacing, realizing as soon as she asked herself that question, an image of Jareth was the first and only thing that came to mind. _Ugh... _She sighed. Liana was right. She was basing everything around Jareth, and she was right in saying that she had no where to go but down if it stayed that way. Giving the Underground a chance didn't mean she had to give Jareth a chance. It was hard to separate the two, but it could be done. Maybe she could then? Maybe things would start to be better? Why was she focusing herself around Jareth anyway? Didn't she hate him? Why put him at the center of her world?

She looked away sharply just then, as if turning away from the answer she already knew deep down in the hallowed part of her sanity. _No. Liana's right. I have to do what is best for me, what will make me happy. Jareth...screw Jareth. I'm going to be Queen. This world is mine for the taking, I don't need him to give it to me._

She gave a slight nod at the outside world as some kind of resolve hardened her features, and turned away from the window to resume her walk.

So, was that the reason then? She was making herself miserable by expecting some kind of miracle from Jareth? _He's not going to give you your dreams this time, Sarah. He told you that. He told you that. So stop. Just stop...he's not...he's never going to be what you want him to be...take out the thorn, and it can't hurt you anymore._ She began to frown as she thought this. What she was thinking- it was right, it made sense, but it didn't make her feel any better.

She stared at the floor now, grimacing as if the weight of the world rested on her shoulders. _It's not so bad and you know it._ No, it wasn't so bad. She could imagine things a lot worse, that was true. What was that part of their conversation even about, anyway? What happened? She scrunched her brow as she thought back. _Why did I feel so...energized? And what...? It just went away... something... something's not right._ She began to walk faster, gaining fervor from the memories of her brief, yet incredible spike in adrenaline.

"What were we even talking about?" She asked herself. Thinking back now, it was all hazy. It was strange and should have made her wary, but it didn't. She couldn't...couldn't put a finger on what had made her so sad, and what had made Liana so intent. Why was her heart racing? She shook her head, clearing herself of those plaguing thoughts. It didn't really matter, did it? She felt better now. She'd talked to Liana, just like she wanted. And she felt better now. She felt good, optimistic even. _There are other things in life to love, open up to it._

The echo of that particular sentence began to ring somewhere deep within Sarah's thought process. _Wait, why? Why did she say that? _That sentence, it seemed important... She felt paranoid all of the sudden, as if one bubble after another was bursting all around her. _Wait...why did it seem like she was somehow pushing for Jareth? _During their previous conversations, she'd told her to stick it to Jareth, to fight him. But today...today was different. She told her not to fight Jareth...but...no. No. That couldn't be it. _Urggg_. She groaned to the floor, confused and angry she hadn't been this skeptical with Liana's words while she was saying them.

What was it about that woman that was so bewitching? What was it that made her feel so warm and cozy and blurred away any and all sense of question? There was something strange about this woman, like things weren't as they seemed... In that moment, she wondered why she always ran away when Jareth was near, wondered why Jareth wouldn't talk about her, wondered what her true motives were for pursuing her. Who the hell was this woman?

She skipped up the steps of a small staircase, careful of her heels, and looked up to scan over the new hall. It looked the same as every other, yet she knew she was on the west half of the castle, and that the main drawing room wasn't too far away. Hmph, Jareth must be one hell of a tour-guide.

"Lessons...Bah! Stupid etiquette." She grumbled. "I'm plenty sophisticated..."

While Liana's reasoning behind Jareth forcing these lessons on her made sense, it didn't make the event any more appealing. She could just see it now, with all its rigors and frustrations. What would she even have to do anyway? Would it be a lecture or a lab? Would she have a final exam? What kind of teacher would Jareth be? What was so important that she actually had to _learn_, instead of him just telling her? Why didn't he ever just tell her things? And how long was this going to take? A few hours? Longer?

She breathed hard through her nose, most definitely not looking forward to what laid beyond the door at the end of the hall. What was even going to happen? How would...how were they supposed to act? Last night...God, last night. And this morning? That awkward note he chose to leave on? How was she supposed to face him now? Just act like nothing had happened? Or...

Wait. Shouldn't she still be mad at him?

Sarah almost faltered in her step as that thought panged against her cranium. Yea, shouldn't she still be mad about last night? Sure he'd apologized but...no. Nothing was resolved. Nothing was resolved...

She frowned and picked up her step again. If nothing was resolved, then why wasn't she mad anymore? She wasn't... She started to scowl as something disturbing began to rear its ugly head. He came back. That's all she really wanted, wasn't it? Wanted him to stay? To let her know he cared, if only in the slightest? And he did...he did, didn't he? He stayed with her all night...he didn't have to do that... Was that what she really wanted? Really? And what was _it_ that she wanted? Did it have a name? Could it be...was it possible...was it the intimacy she'd been robbed of? Is that what he'd come back for? What he'd given her as she wailed in his arms? How could that be? Was the truth so ugly? Did it have to be so discomforting? He used her...and she wanted more.

_Maybe...maybe something did happen. Maybe something changed? Was it resolved?_ She wasn't angry. She wasn't angry when she'd woken, and she wasn't angry now. She felt...level, when she woke up this morning. There was no tension, no stress. Why was that? Liana's comfort aside, she was starting to feel better well before she even arrived. She wondered why that was, but the theory that came to mind was anything but welcomed. _I told you...last night. It wasn't meant to punish you. It was a release...a way to relax. It was meant to make you feel good. And you did feel good, didn't you?_

_No. _She snarled at the stone tiles of the floor. There was no way. No way in Hell she was ever going to admit that. No. NO. Those thoughts could just crawl back into the big black pit they came out of. No. No freaking way. There was no way she was going to even entertain the idea that Jareth may have been right about all this. She started shaking her head viciously as she walked. _You say you're so frustrated you have no choice but to lash out at me? Is that it? Well, I think I know a better way to help you relieve some of that tension._

_NO! Nonononono. Stop, right there Sarah!_

_You think you can just attack me when you're frustrated, Sarah? I'm going to show you that there are better ways to go about relieving your frustrations..._ Was it really that simple? Was that what she was feeling? Relaxation? Was...did...is that why she'd been so tense? Was the reason she kept lashing out at him because she was sexually frustrated? Fat chance. There were many, more prominent, reasons for her to be frustrated. And yet...the theory stood firm. She started breathing more heavily, getting worked up and flustered. She'd asked herself this last night, but found herself asking again: could she really release her anger through an orgasm? And if that was true, Gods be damned if that was true, but if it was, should she embark down that road? Did she want to? It was pleasure after all...not life and death. And if it made her feel better afterwards...

_WOAH! Hold your horses, Sarah. What are you even thinking right now? How could you possibly even think about letting Jareth do that to you -willingly- and -regularly- Think of the consequences! Think of how smug that bastard would be! AH! No. No, just stop right there. There is no way. No way in Hell. No. This is what he wants. He wanted you to give in like this. Don't be fooled!_

Her snarl turned into a growl. _Yes. That must be it. Just another part of the game. Game? Fucking games... _She shook her head. Enough of this. Her mind was getting way ahead of itself, out of hand. _Lessons. Let's focus on lessons. Take Jareth out of it, just like Liana said. It'll be fine. It'll be boring and tedious and sterile, just like the tour of the castle... _She murmured this over and over as she approached the door that she knew opened into the west drawing room. She reached out for the handle, and took a deep breath before she pushed the latch down. _Well...here goes nothing_.

  



	25. Pawn To H4, part 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While unbeknown to her, Sarah has succeeded in obtaining the one thing the Goblin King has desired for hundreds of years -power over the Labyrinth. After being hidden for years from his diabolical wrath, Sarah finds herself alone and vulnerable as Jareth's dark desires are finally aloud to rear their ugly heads. As always, the only question is, are things really as they seem?

She stepped through the entryway, light as a feather, and closed the door gently behind her. She turned, and looked about the room. It was wide, with a high ceiling. There were windows on the far wall, the sun's rays being its only source of light. It was mostly empty, with nothing but hardwood floors and some general furniture scattered about to fill the space. One thing that did stand out, however, was the strategically placed dining table off to one side, already set from candle to spoon. She took a step, and glanced towards the left, catching movement out of the corner of her eye. She stood straighter then, and tried to school her features as she realized it wasn't Jareth who was waiting for her, but Roldan._Wha-?_

"Glad to see you've finally made an appearance." Roldan said, stiffly pushing himself up from a chair. How long had he been sitting there? Ummm... She opened her mouth to speak,

"Uhhh..." She stammered, just a tiny bit put off. _Why is Roldan here? Seriously. Not saying I prefer Jareth's company, but..._ "I didn't know there was a deadline." She said, keeping her eyes suspiciously on Roldan as he stepped to stand before her. She wasn't quite sure what their next encounter would be like; actually, she hadn't given it a single thought. She stood, a little rigid, trying to discern any kind of emotion from him. He rose his brow a little, his mouth curved in a sly little smile as if about to call her out on a fib. She tightened her brow.

"Really?" He asked, rhetorically, but with no other hint of emotion whatsoever. She paused a beat, giving in to stare at him with perplexity as he paced by.

"Where's Jareth?" She asked.

"Not here." Roldan answered. Sarah began to purse her lips.

"When's he coming?"

"He's not."

"But...I'm supposed to be starting lessons or something. Shouldn't he be here to teach me?"

"Yes, if he were teaching you."

Sarah opened her mouth and puffed up her chest in preparation to speak, but no words came, at least not right away.

"-Wait...so..._you're_ going to teach me?" She asked, aghast and dubious beyond all reproach. _What? Why? Why isn't Jareth here?_ His absence worried her and had her thinking of all the possible reasons for which Jareth wouldn't want to be present. What was going to happen? Was it bad? Should she be worried? Why was she alone with Roldan?

"Clever little thing, aren't you?" Roldan snarked, and moved to stand before her again, much closer this time. He raked his eyes over her, raising one brow in an expression that she wasn't able to discern, and quickly became agitated with. She was not going to put up with more of his rudeness. No way. At this point, she was just waiting for him to set her off.

"Why isn't Jareth here?" She asked.

"I don't know. Why don't you ask him the next time you see him?" He said. Sarah narrowed her eyes, on the verge of crossing her arms and pouting like a five-year-old. _Well, guess he still has a stick up his ass..._

It was safe to say that Roldan was well past the point of being irritated. He'd been waiting in this room for hours now, just waiting to be graced with this hellion's presence and completely at the mercy of his failing patience. It was aggravating having to wait for Jareth all morning, and annoying to have been ordered to teach his human in the first place, but to be stood up, to be cut down, disrespected in such a way -by her of all people! It was taking all he had not to lash out at her. _Be her friend, he says? Bah! Be friendly and complacent...I'll be lucky if I can manage polite._ Just the sight of her pursed little lips and her judging little eyes was enough to make him want to smack the defiance right out of her. And he couldn't even put his hands on her? And by _hands_, he understood that Jareth had meant physical means of discipline. How did Jareth expect him to discipline her if he couldn't punish her? What was the reasoning behind that? It was unheard of. Why didn't Jareth want him touching her? He realized that would be a part of her lessons, didn't he?

But, frustrations aside, she was here now -after three hours. Three hours he'd been waiting on her! What was she doing? Had she kept him waiting on purpose? He had to restrain himself through a heavy sigh through his nose. She was here now. Best get on with it. _Be friendly..._

"What are you wearing?" He asked, ending the stern silence that was starting to stretch between them. Sarah's brow twitched, and she looked down over herself as if not understanding.

"I -uh...I don't know. I thought this was considered more appropriate clothing?" She asked, genuinely confused.

"Marginally." Roldan said, his voice hard and empty. "A woman in your position should be wearing fine gowns, not sporting gear." He said, his disapproval more than evident. Ok, Sarah gave in to cross her arms at that and rolled her eyes in an exaggerated gesture. _Hmph, well then-_

"Hey, I'm trying. I have no idea what the standards are, ok? That's why I'm here, isn't it? So could you please stow the ridicule and just cut me some slack?" She asked, feeling dramatic and exasperated already. Hm, maybe she would prefer Jareth's company after all...at least he didn't bitch about her clothes. Roldan stared at her for a moment, as if sizing her up.

"I suppose you're right. I apologize." He said, with a small bow. Sarah quirked him a brow.

"It's fine..." She answered, feeling a little awkward, but wasn't quite sure why.

"I would also like to apologize for my actions, last evening. It seems we've gotten off on the wrong foot. I was surprised and upset with His Majesty; I am sorry I upset you." He said, sounding so sincere that it actually had Sarah gaping for a response. If only Jareth had the ability to admit when he was wrong...even if it was only to make her feel better. She hadn't had to nag Roldan once. Hadn't had to break down and cry...

"Um...apology accepted. I guess I...didn't mean to be so...cross with you either." She said, searching for a word that wasn't vulgar. She kept her arms crossed over her chest, feeling the air grow even more awkward.

"If it isn't too much, I would like to start over; perhaps with a proper introduction." He said. Sarah turned her head away as she eyed him. Something seemed fishy, but then again, maybe she was just weirded out that he was being nice to her. _Give him a chance, Sarah_, she told herself and nodded, silently. Roldan cracked a smirk and bent forward, taking Sarah's hand as he brought it to his lips. "My name is Roldan, and I am His Majesty's aid. It is a pleasure to meet you, Miss." He said. Sarah pulled her hand away before he finished pulling himself up.

"Please, just call me Sarah. No titles." She said, and waved a hand out in front of her. Roldan tilted his head, ever-so-slightly, and was about to say something when Sarah spoke up, eager to just get past all this awkwardness. "So...you're going to be teaching me etiquette and the ways of the world, then?" She asked. Roldan stood straighter, the trace hint of a smile fading away as duty called his attention.

"Yes. I am charged with preparing you for your new position." He affirmed. Sarah broke eye contact to look over the room once more.

"And...what does that entail, exactly?" She asked.

"Everything."

"Everything?" She repeated, curious as to what _everything_ actually meant. She grimaced a little with the thought. "Ok...so, where do we start?" She asked. Roldan's eyes roamed back and forth, just as Sarah's had, contemplating one decision over another.

"We can start here." He said. Sarah looked around her immediate vicinity.

"Um, ok. How?"

"Part of your lessons will include social interaction. You've just entered a room, let's start by showing you how to properly great someone." He said. Sarah nodded, and opened her mouth in an _uh-huh _gesture. Roldan took a step back. "Alright. Let's pretend we're at a formal gathering. Imagine Jareth is at your side-"

"Do I have to?" She blurted, unintentionally, and sucked in her lips when Roldan glared. Oops.

"Jareth will always be at your side. So, yes, you do. Now, in this first instance, a single male approaches."

"It matters if he's single or not?" She interrupted, again. Roldan shot her an eye.

"Yes, it matters. Would you please just let me explain? First encounters are extremely important in court-"

"Why?"

"..."

Roldan was about ready to reach out and smack her across the mouth, but resided to simply tap his foot. She would have to learn consideration for her speech as well...ugh...at least she seemed interested.

"Relationships are built within the first moments of introduction. As I'm sure Jareth's explained to you by now, we communicate with more than just words..." He said, and his voice seemed to trail off, making sure she was well aware of what he meant. She couldn't hide her blush, but tried not to look too uneasy. Should she apologize for that too? Probably...

"Yes...he did. And, just so you know, I didn't know that until...well yea. I didn't know." She said, keeping her gaze away from his.

"I know, which is why our meetings are crucial to your success as Queen."

"Yea, I get it. Can't go around to total strangers with a big FUCK ME sign on my forehead. I can see why that would be a problem - oh! Sorry, I didn't mean to swear...old habit." She fumbled, ending with a shrug.

Roldan pursed his lips, not sure how angry he should be, and his already fisted hands began to tense further. But after a moment, he forced a sigh. _No, getting angry will help no one. Push it aside, focus on something positive_, he told himself. She did seem to be trying...and at the very least, she had character.

"Yes, well, we'll come to that later on." He said, and drew his brow when her face suddenly flushed and her eyes widened, big and bright.

"You're not- going to- um...that is, you're not?" She tried, but couldn't get the words out. He wasn't going to do what Jareth did to her last night, was he? Was that a part of the lessons too? How was that- how could Jareth do that? Roldan's narrowed eyes only continued to crease. What was her problem?

"If you're referring to your pheromone- inspired outburst...no. His Majesty was explicit in that he be the one to handle that part of your lesson plan." He said, warily almost. Why was she in such a panic? "Which I can assume has already started?" He added, curiously.

Sarah became eerily still with his question, only adding to his confusion.

"What do you mean?" She asked, cautiously, her eyes brimming with some kind of terror. Roldan tilted his head.

"Your chemical signals are much more stable than they were yesterday...I'm only inferring that Jareth has begun teaching you on how to control them?" Sarah's brow twisted until she and Roldan held the same expression.

"Um...no...not...not really...I don't think-"

"You look upset. I'm afraid I don't understand. What-"

"You don't understand?! I have no idea what you're talking about-" She started to exclaim, but soon found herself breathless. She did nooooootttttt under any circumstances want to talk about this, with Roldan of all people. Heck, she couldn't even bring herself to tell Liana about what happened...

"You're still a virgin."

Sarah's heart dropped. Her face burned. Her stomach lurched into her throat. Her eyes were the size of the moon.

"E-excuse me?" She chirped, abashed. She'd just met this man! How was her sexual status any of his business? How could he- oh. Of course he could tell. Why was he bringing this up?

"You are a virgin. Jareth hasn't bedded you yet."

"Your point?" Her voice was nearing falsetto.

"Jareth hasn't taken you yet, which means that the only other reason your levels could be so low is because he is showing you how to lower them." He explained, not able to fathom just why she look so aghast right now. All it really took to control chemical output was firm mental practice, aside from sexual satisfaction; and since she was still a virgin...

"He's not showing- he's not doing anything, ok?!" She almost squealed, practically bursting at the seams. "Could you please not look at me like that?" Why did he look so confused? Why was he speaking so casually of this? It was one thing for Jareth, but...

Roldan lowered his eyes as he thought, another concern rising to plague his mind. Why hadn't Jareth taken her yet? She'd been here a week, he claimed to have been courting her for years, so why? ...She was attractive. She had vigor. Sex was perhaps the one and only reason Roldan could see as a motive behind this. Jareth was known for acting on his impulses...for letting one head get the better of the other. But this wasn't -that couldn't be the case. She hadn't been touched. Jareth had kidnapped a ripe, pure mortal girl and hadn't tainted her. It was very un-like Jareth. He thought...he assumed, that was what Jareth had been so busy with last night as well as this morning; but it was more than apparent that wasn't the case. What had he been doing with her if not consorting? Why would he chose to be with her all hours of the night instead of seeing to his obligations? Why was he so exhausted this morning? This girl...things were just getting curiouser and curiouser.

"Apologies, Miss. I'm merely confused as to why you haven't copulated?" He asked. Sarah's jaw tensed, unable to decide if he was just dense, or just that audacious. _Copulated? Wha? What kind of word is that!_

"What? I don't think that's any of your business. Can we please move off of the subject, now?" She asked, hostilely.

"I don't mean to upset you."

"Then why do you keep talking about it!"

"Because it's important. Pheromonal communication is-"

"I know how important it is."

"No, you don't."

"What does this have to do with whether or not I've had sex with Jareth?" She tried not to flail her arms out, but she desperately wanted to be done talking about this. Anything. Please. Just get to the point already so they could move on from it.

"Well, simply, having intercourse would reduce your levels to a manageable nothing -especially given your current...situation. I'm supposed to make sure you are able to interact successfully with others, but since I hold no jurisdiction over that particular area, I'm going to recommend, implore actually, that you-"

"Ok! Ok, I get it. Please, just -stop talking." She said, desperately, shamefully, with both hands out in front of her. Roldan knew she was a virgin. He knew she and Jareth hadn't had sex, and he also knew that something happened to reduce her hormone levels. Was he really unable to put two and two together? Or was he really just being clinical? ...Gah! Was nothing private?

Roldan's features hardened at her display.

"Why are you afraid?" He asked. Sarah stood back, blanched.

"I'm not afraid. I'm just not comfortable talking about this."

"Why? It's-"

"I don't care what it is. Maybe I'm just being modest."

"...Very well. I'm only saying, your issues with communication would diminish greatly if you would only-"

"Yea, yea, yea, I get it. Can we please just go back to what to do when a single male approaches?" She pleaded, and felt her shoulders sag with the amount of ease that came with Roldan's acknowledgment, reluctant as it was.

"Alright. So, you are with Jareth. A single male approaches. Now, it is very important that you listen to me, and not implement any notions you may have presumed from the Aboveground, understand?" He asked. She nodded. "Firstly, you must never, ever, under any circumstances look a male in the eye while on Jareth's arm, or while a man is on the arm of another woman." He said. Sarah's brow started to draw.

"...Ok..." She wanted to ask why, but thought to hold all her questions 'till the end. _Let's see how long that holds out..._

"So, a man approaches. You will always be greeted before Jareth, so you must be prepared." He said, and took a step forward, locking their gazes. "You're looking me in the eye." He murmured. Sarah's brow shot up. Oh, so they were role-playing now. She pursed her lips and quickly moved her eyes down to his nose. Did that count? "Ah, Lady Sarah, I'm so pleased you and Jareth were able to make it." He said, reaching out for her hand and giving it a polite kiss. Sarah blanched. What was she supposed to do? Saying Hi seemed very complicated all of the sudden. She lowered her head to bow in return, or curtsy, or...something.

"Secondly," Roldan's voice interrupted her gesture, making her pause in her movement. "You will never, ever, bow to any man." He said. Sarah furrowed her brow at that. _Huh? Why?_

"Um...ok..." She muttered, and straightened. Roldan rose as well, releasing her hand, and bringing his gaze back to hers, and rose an eyebrow when she failed to avoid it.

"It's harder than you thought, isn't it?" He asked, teasingly. Sarah scoffed.

"Why can't I look you in the eye?" She asked.

"It isn't appropriate." Was his answer, one that had Sarah's inner feminist slowly rising from its not-so-deep slumber.

"And that's only when I'm with Jareth? Or when _this general man_ is with someone as well?"

"Yes. Next instance, you are with Jareth, and are approached by a couple." He said, and took a step to the side as he ushered in his ghost of a partner. "Rules for eye contact remain the same, mind you. However, that is strictly for males. You will lead the discussion. You are expected to greet both persons, first by addressing the Madam, whom you are obligated to meet firmly in the eye, then her partner. You will bow, only to the female. Both men will then bow to their facing lady. You will address only the female, and she will address only you." Sarah's lips began to twist up in a snarl as she listened to what Roldan was saying. Huh? Why? None of this was making any sense to her...

"What about the men? Don't they say anything? And what if I want to talk to the male? Why do I have to lead the discussion? What about Jareth?" She asked. So much for saving any questions till the end.

"The male is free to address the female, but the female may only respond to the male through his female." He informed, only answering half of her questions, and bringing a firm scowl to Sarah's face. This was...she couldn't come up with a word for it.

"What? Why? Is there a reason why woman aren't allowed to look or talk to men? Are they -we- really so inferior to you?" She asked, outraged. This -this was bordering on misogynistic, and they'd only started discussing greetings.

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me. You're a bunch of misogynists, aren't you? What, woman aren't _worthy_ of direct eye contact, let alone conversation?" She asked, placing her hands firmly on her hips. Roldan looked...confused.

"What? No...I don't think you understand. That's not what it is, at all." He said, and began laughing with how ludicrous Sarah's assumption was. _Heh, humans..._ Sarah recoiled slightly, and waited for him to continue, tapping her finger over crossed arms, glaring venomously. "Women are not inferior. This must be one of your Aboveground presumptions... In fact, It is the exact opposite. In Fae society, women are considered highly superior to men, and therefore, it is the men who are unworthy of direct eye contact or direct speech with one who is taken. I only say you must never engage in this so you do not goad or tempt the men. It would also be disrespectful to his female if you were to go over her head and address her male." He explained, not yet noticing the wringing stink eye of total confoundment Sarah was giving him.

"Women are superior to men? Bull." She said, waving him off in disbelief, and pursed her lips at him when he only stared after her. "Please, explain this to me. Why are women superior to men in your society?"

"We are beings of nature, beings of life and creation. Life is most precious to us. We live for eons, some may even argue forever, but with this gift of life befalls the irony of creation. The Fae may only produce a handful of children in their lifetime. Children are precious to us. This makes women, the creators of life, the bearers of children, the most cherished things in existence. They are worshipped. They are catered to and pampered and loved. -you doubt this?" He asked at the very end, just now catching on to Sarah's stone cold expression of utter disbelief.

"Do I doubt this? Of course I doubt this! How can you say that? After the way Jareth's treats me-"

"First off, you are not a woman of the Fae. You are a human. The standard alters. Secondly, I am speaking of court life; and third, the respect goes both ways. Women are put on the highest pillar, given complete power over their men, who in turn are given the right to absolute rule over their women."

"Wait, what? That doesn't make any sense."

"Women are loved, pampered, given everything they desire, their freedoms, their dreams, and in return, they let themselves be ruled. They honor, oblige and respect their men. They place their trust in them, are taught and disciplined by them. They are protected by them, loved by them-"

"So, pretty much, I'm supposed to shut up and be a pretty little doll that Jareth can dress up and coo over? Some perfect wife that lays down and takes it just so he can give me sweets afterwards? I'm not a doll. I'm not a trinket, I'm not a gold digger, either, as that is what you're describing sounds like. What you're saying is backwards-"

"You still don't understand. It will take more than one explanation from me to make you see." He interjected. Sarah shut her mouth. "This is the dynamic of an entire culture, you really think it's that black and white? You're acting as though we subjugate our women, though you have no idea of how much power they hold." Sarah opened her mouth to protest, but didn't get a chance. "But, that is a conversation for later, when we delve into politics and social infrastructure. Right now, we're still in the tutorial. So please, save all your outbursts for Jareth, or for later, and let us carry on?" He asked, gaining confidence when she seemed to un-tense before him. She narrowed her eyes, thinking over whether or not she should bother humoring him.

"...fine." She said, for the sole reason that he had just said they would be talking about it more in-depth later on. She'd save her aggravation for then.

"Good. Now, let's play over this again-" He said, and with a snap of his fingers, conjured up some kind of illusion. It was a woman, made of smoke, like a hologram. Sarah gaped at it for a moment, but didn't let herself become to fazed by it. Roldan hooked his arm through the apparition's, and took a step towards Sarah. _Oh, are we starting now? Geez, I could use some kind of cue or something.._.she grumbled, and locked her eyes on his nose.

* * *

"Very good. I think that will do, for today." Roldan said, with just a smidgen of triumph, and sent away his wispy woman with a few waves of his hand. Sarah tried, very hard, not to groan. They'd been standing the damn doorway for how long now? Rehearsing introductions and brief conversation over and over and over again. Uragghhhhh. Was it really such a big deal? Was it really so complicated? Was she really so bad at it? She couldn't help but sigh however, at seeing the disappearance of the ghost woman, and was about to take a step when something struck her.

"Wait...what do you mean, for today?" She asked, warily, her eyes sharpening. Roldan merely quirked a brow as he stepped passed her further into the room. "How long are these intended lessons going to be, exactly?" She asked, her voice laced with something deadly. For some reason, she only thought this was a one day affair. Roldan paused in his step.

"As long as it takes." He said. Sarah's eyes widened in horror. "We'll meet at this time every day until your wedding, and perhaps even after should it be necessary." Sarah's jaw started to drop.

"What? Why! There can't be that much social conduct I need to learn." She groaned.

"No, but you'll be learning about more than just simple etiquette. You'll have to study both the history of the Goblin Kingdom, as well as the histories of the remaining seven council seats. You'll need to know the laws, formal and social, that govern this land, and have at least a minor understanding of others. You'll need to be able to recognize the different species that inhabit this realm, as well as various plant-life-"

"What? Why do I need to know plant-life?"

"There are many dangers in this world, Sarah. You are human, and therefore more likely to succumb to the many numbers of poisonous plants and fruits that would otherwise have no effect on a being native to this land. You need to be able to spot dangers in whatever form. I'm not sure what Jareth's told you, but there is an entire world's worth of knowledge we'll be covering between now and the time you ascend the throne."

If there was something behind her, Sarah would have fallen over backwards. What? This sounded like...like so much work! So this really was like school then? How long did he expect her to stay here each day? Oh, dear God. Perhaps the only benefit she could say she acknowledged about being kidnapped was that she no longer had to go to high school. And now this? UGH!

"Seriously? Ughh...Jareth is the one who wants to marry me, why am I the one who has to do work?" She groaned to herself and stalked after him.

Roldan paused before the dining table, waiting for Sarah to catch up. She was giving the floor a thorough pout when he caught sight of her.

"Since this is just a rundown of some of the things we'll be covering, I thought it would be easy to go through dining etiquette now." He said, with a gesture out over the table. Sarah huffed, and took hold of the back of a chair in an attempt to pull it out, but was rudely cut off by Roldan. She glared up, expectantly.

"Another thing to always keep in mind. I told you, women are pampered and catered to. That is the literal truth. You are never allowed to take a seat without asking it of a man, and by asking I mean telling the nearest male you want to sit. They, whoever they may be, will have no choice but to go out of their way and find you a seat. Stop scowling. This is preferred. A man would feel greatly disrespected if you did not ask, and would be honored if you chose him." He explained, and pulled out the chair for Sarah to take. She plopped herself into it, grumbling to herself. This whole _women are idolized_ thing was a load of bull shit. He joined her in the chair across from her. "So, if you want anything, a chair, a drink, something to eat, you can not search for it, you must ask it of a man. I know this must seem so trivial, but it is the simple things that matter the most." He added on, as he made himself comfortable. Sarah only raised an eyebrow, done with talking for the time being. She was still grumpy she had to go to Underground Academy. She did peer around the table though, and noticed the place setting looked as simple as the way Karen would set the table at Thanksgiving dinner. That was -unexpected.

"Well, to your relief, I'm sure, I can tell you that dinning etiquette is almost non-existent." Roldan said. Sarah darted her eyes up to him. "Place setting is as simple as it gets, would you care to list off what each item is and it's purpose?" Sarah took a deep breath. She knew what a fork was, she was not an idiot. She lowered her eyes, and pointed a finger.

"I think that's a plate, and that might be a bowl. Am I right?" She asked, snarkily. Roldan remained quiet. She wanted to groan again. Jareth would have made some kind of retort... Where was he anyway? "I'm guessing that is a wine glass, and that one's for water. Hm...let's see...the sharp knife is probably for cutting, that fork is for salad, and that one for everything else. The round spoon is for soup and the other is for dessert. How am I doing?" She asked, only emphasizing her level of sarcasm as she went.

"You're doing wonderful, pet."

Sarah practically jumped out of her skin as a familiar voice resonated from just outside of her ear. She gasped and whipped her head around to find Jareth leaning over her. His hand gripped the back of her chair, his curling sneer level and much too close to her face. She could see the individual slivers of blue in his eyes...

"Jeezus!" She breathed, bringing a hand to her chest and glaring daggers out of the corner of her eye.

"Majesty." Roldan spoke up, and stood from his chair as he bowed. Jareth rose his head, pretending to give him his full attention. Sarah turned back around in her seat, trying with all her might to ignore the strange hum that vibrated between her and the close proximity of Jareth's chest. She tried to shake it off -_ Pssshht. Stop Sarah. It's just nerves_. _Scowl._ \- His hair had fallen over her shoulder, the contact making her squirm. "Is there something I can do for you?" Roldan continued, not noticing the tense and anxious state Sarah had been reduced to. She gnawed on her lip, trying so hard not to stare at Jareth out of the corner of her eye. She felt -different- all of the sudden. On edge. He was so close to her. She felt her chair shift as his hand repositioned itself on the back.

"No. I just wanted to check up on things. Tell me, how are you fairing?" He asked, and it took her a second to realize he was speaking to her. She blinked, and flicked her eyes up to Jareth, who was already turned to face her. She wasn't ready for that. Why wasn't she ready for that? What was going on? Why was she so nervous? She gulped when he smiled.

"I-ummmmm...I'm fine." She stammered, her eyes far too wide and her skin far too pale. Seriously? What was going on with her? His smile curled on one side, and his hand moved to lightly brush his thumb over a spot on her back. She tried not to flinch, disturbingly aware that it wasn't a recoil. It was... something else.

"Would you like to take a break?" He asked, but the sound was drowned out by the feeling of his hand against her spine. Why did that affect her so? Something...everything...felt more -intense- for some reason...nerves, must be nerves. He had startled her after all... She worried her brow at him.

"A break? Why?" She asked.

"I'm sure he's had you at it for hours now-"

"Actually, she only showed up about forty-five minutes ago." Roldan interjected, after resuming his seat. Jareth rose a brow, and turned his attention back to Roldan.

"Is that so?" He asked. Roldan tried not to huff.

"Yes. I've spent most of my time waiting." He said, all pouting-like. Sarah thought to say something, but was petrified when Jareth straightened a bit, his hand inching to clasp around her shoulder. This was different. For as handsy as Jareth was, he was always very reserved when it came to casual gestures like this. He always gave her her space, was never too familiar -until he flipped personalities and things got out of hand, anyway. And she'd rather appreciated that, the distant, almost business-like quality that he conducted himself in. Is that why she was so caught off guard? Had he ever touched her this way before? Why was it such a big deal? It was just her shoulder...

"Hold your grudge with me then. I gave her no time to meet you here." He said, bringing a firm scowl to Roldan's face. What? Why would he do that? Why not tell him he could be waiting around all day if she so chose? He wanted to growl, irritated with the way Jareth was conducting himself. He was being catty, cattier than usual.

Sarah felt Jareth's hand squeeze as he stood and stepped away from the table. She turned in her spot, confused, curious, and worried. She felt -something. There was something different about the way he touched her. The feeling was stronger, more ...familiar. What? What was that? Her gaze chased after him as he started walking away.

"Where are you going?" She called out, unintentionally sounding just as lost as she felt. She didn't want him to go. She didn't know why, but in that split second, she didn't want him to go. He turned, his trademark sneer in tow.

"I merely came to check on you. You seem to be well taken care of, and I have things to get back to. Carry on." He said, and no sooner stepped through the door.

Sarah felt her fingers gripping the rim of the back of her chair. Why...why was she feeling this way? She felt -breathless, and -helpless. She turned back around, frowning at her empty plate, her rush of feeling dwindling into nothing just as quickly as it had spurred. And then it was over. She felt totally fine again. Well...that was...curious. Roldan watched her, warily, sensing something off about that encounter, but couldn't place a finger as to what.

"Alright...back to it then?" Sarah piped up, raising her gaze and giving Roldan his first smile of the day. He actually paused before responding.

"Right. -Well. You seem to know your cutlery. As far as actual dining, the only rule you have to always abide by is to never let your silverware touch the table after you've used it. It's considered impure."

"Yea, ok. I've heard of that. Is that all then?" She asked, hurriedly, but trying her best to focus on the task at hand, rather than Jareth's strange surprise visit.

"No. Now comes the important part. Just as you aren't allowed to take your own seat, neither are you allowed to take anything at the dining table." Sarah brought her gaze to meet Roldan's then. "If you want something, a refill, or a helping of something, you must ask the closest male. Also, when dining with other couples, you are free to talk amongst them as you wish, no addressing the madam. But, if the man is on the arm of a woman, you must refrain from eye contact."

"What if they're single?"

"If you're with Jareth, rules still apply." He said. Sarah nodded, and in the back of her mind, wondered under what instance would she ever _not_ be on Jareth's arm... He began to watch her, sensing her mind was somewhere else, and leaned over the table a bit. "I know this all seems so easy and simple, but it is even easier to forget when sitting at a crowded table, rich with laughter and conversation. The hardest thing for you will be refraining from eye-contact. We will practice each day. And you can groan all you want, but you do not want to be caught in a situation where you have unintentionally disrespected someone who may be very, very important. Understand?"

Sarah drew her brow, slowly.

"Yes, I understand. I'm not an idiot, you know."

"I never said you were."

"Ok, so is that it for table etiquette then? What's next?" She asked, and if he didn't know better, he would have said she sounded eager. What happened during Jareth's visit? He could see her squirming. He could see the shift that went through her. Was it good or bad? He couldn't tell.

"Would you like to move on to something a little more complex?" He asked. Sarah sighed.

"Sure, why not?" She said, pushing out from her chair to follow Roldan as he stood, and followed him to stand in the center of the room. He turned, and offered her his hand.

"If you would, please take my hand." He said, his head tilted forward just slightly so he could look her in the eye. Sarah rose a brow, and placed her palm in his. His fingers curled, and he jerked her arm to a higher position. He took a step closer, and placed his free hand around her waist. She leaned back on her heel, about to shy away.

"What are you doing?" She asked, perhaps too harshly than intended. He took a step, causing her to retreat one, and nudged her elbow with his own, forcing her to hold it higher.

"We're going to dance." He said, keeping her locked in stance.

"You're going to be giving me dance lessons too? Geez." She asked, surprised.

"Dancing is very important in Court. It is symbolic and ritualistic. You'll be expected to partake in certain dances on certain occasion; so it is important you start to learn as soon as you can, so that you do not make a fool of both yourself and Jareth at the celebration-"

"Wait. Celebration? What celebration? Is that the same celebration Davion mentioned?" She asked.

"-I assume..."

"Well? What is it?"

"Under another title, I suppose it would be called your engagement party." He explained.

"Oh? And when is that?"

"...about three weeks from now." Sarah's brow started to rise.

"And when is the wedding, again?"

"A week after that." Sarah tried to pull away, but Roldan held her in place.

"What? Was anyone going to tell me this? Why didn't Jareth tell me? Why doesn't he ever tell me anything!" She was on the verge of throwing one hell of a tantrum all of the sudden. Perhaps it was Jareth's surprise visit that gave her her spark back She didn't think about it, though, focusing on her small flare of anger and not the match that sparked it. _No one said anything about there being two gatherings of people revolving around this stupid wedding! Three weeks?_ On one hand, that seemed like a decent amount of time away, and on the other...it sounded right around the corner.

Roldan held her firmly, her struggle weak and distracted.

"Did you ask him?"

Sarah paused mid-fluster.

"What?"

"Did you ask him about it?" He repeated. She drew her brow.

"No-"

"How do you expect him to answer a question you never asked?" Sarah scowled, masking the thought that flashed across her mind in that moment, the reminder that this was just another case of asking the right questions and not taking anything for granted. Guck, that little bundle of life lessons was getting old fast.

"Don't try using word games on me. He could have informed me of what was going on. But- ya know what? No, never-mind. I don't feel like arguing right now." She started shaking her head, exasperated and completely unaware of the fact that for perhaps the first time, she was turning away from a confrontation. "I don't really want to think about Jareth either. So...where were we? Oh, yes, dancing is important." She restated, holding herself a little straighter in the position Roldan kept her in. "So, how do we do this, then?"

"Well, there will be four formal dances taking place during your engagement celebration. Those will be our focus for the time being."

"Um, ok..."

"I won't go into too much detail today; think of today's meeting as simply...reading the syllabus."

"K. Got it. So, dance number one?"

"The first dance is called the Introduction. It is the most simple of what you'll be learning: slow pace, but multi-partnered. You will start by entering the floor with Jareth, like so," He said, and shifted his position to stand beside her, one hand behind his back and the other still holding hers up in the air. But then she noticed something odd: he let go of her hand, but kept them suspended about an inch apart. "Once the couples have taken their places, you will turn to face each other. Dancing, Sarah, is the only formal situation where you may meet any individual in the eye, remember that. The male of the couple facing you will bow, and Jareth will bow to the facing lady-" He began enacting the gesture as he spoke, bowing to nothing. Sarah wondered if he was going to conjure up a ghost couple anytime soon. "Now, regarding eye-contact again. I say you are at liberty to gaze upon at your leisure, but what I should say is that you are expected to make firm eye-contact with each of your surrounding persons, while strictly avoiding any gaze at your partner, even Jareth." Sarah wriggled her brow a little. Why was eye-contact so important to these people?

"How come?" She asked, curious as to why she wasn't allowed to look at Jareth.

"The Introduction dance is meant to present yourself to your peers. It is they you are dancing with, not your current partner." He glanced up, picking up on her confused little eyes as they pondered his hovering hand. "Also, it is very important that you at no point in time ever_ touch_ your partner."

"Why?" She asked.

"Proximity, visual intimacy, a lack of physical contact, helps to harbor spiritual connection. Before you ask, I will explain the meanings of all this in a later discussion as it falls into another aspect of society that you will need to learn. But, for now, here are the first few steps, try to follow along with me, and try not to touch me-"

Sarah felt her attention kick-start as Roldan suddenly took a step to the side. He moved slow, but his movements were intricate and had her stepping and turning and twirling all about the room. She focused all her attention on keeping time and not touching him, which was incredibly difficult given her lack of grace. She was trying, but couldn't really pay much attention to the actual _steps _they took, too preoccupied with keeping up with Roldan.

"That was good, but stop looking at your feet. Remember keep your gaze out in front of you."

"I don't know what I'm doing. I'm trying not to trip into you."

"I know, but that is the point. You'll need to practice these movements until they become second nature. You won't have the luxury of looking at what you're doing." He said, and stopped their prance. "I told you, just the syllabus. We'll dig deeper as we go. Now, the second dance is called the Barrage." Sarah quirked a challenging brow at him. "And yes, it is exactly as the name entails. It is very fast pace, multi-partnered. You'll enter this dance solo. The only contact allowed is the touch of the hand." He said, and moved to stand opposite her. He rose his left hand, and signaled for her to do the same. As soon as the pads of their fingers met, Sarah felt her hand being pushed back. She took a step, letting Roldan lead her around the room with just the pressure of his hand.

"This doesn't seem like a barrage." Sarah commented. Roldan snickered. Wow! He actually snickered! It made Sarah smile. Hm, things actually weren't all that terrible. Perhaps second chances were good? Maybe she would be able to get along with Roldan after all.

"We're moving at a snail's crawl compared to the real thing. In this dance, your partner will lead you, backwards, through a strategic series of steps, at the end of which you will both turn and face your new partner, and the series will begin again. Remember, look your partner in the eyes and nowhere else. You have to trust the steps and your partner, or you will run into someone." He said, viciously glaring into her eyes to hold her gaze. She nodded, trying her best to be serious and focused when he then picked up the pace. "You'll need to get the pattern down first, then we'll work on speed."

"It doesn't seem too hard..."

"I hope it isn't. It would save up some time to dedicate you to other, more scholarly things." He said. Sarah pursed her lips at him.

"So, dance number three?" She quirked. Roldan stopped and lowered his hand.

"The third dance is called the Selection. It is undoubtedly the most important dance you will partake in."

Sarah worried her brow. She was doing an awful lot of that today.

"Why?" Roldan lowered his eyes, as if thinking whether or not he wanted to answer that question. If he was, he must have chosen no, as by the time he brought his gaze back to hers, he completely shifted off of the subject.

"This dance is slower, but requires a great deal more physical contact." He said, and took a very close step towards Sarah. "Now, this may be slower, but the moves are more complex. You do not move with your partner, you will have your own steps, and your partner will have his. Start by taking three steps to the right-"

And so she did. She moved slowly, watching him carefully.

"Now three back, faster."

She moved again.

"Two to the left, three back, turn ninety degrees -counterclockwise- and sidestep three times." He waited until she had done so, then spoke up again. "Alright, now come back here and do it again; this time, I'll move along with you." He said. She approached, and took her spot. She wasn't ready when he took a step forward, almost crashing into her. She skipped to the right, blanching when he suddenly stepped around her.

"Don't stop. It is very important that you walk through this on time. Don't worry about me. I know what I'm doing." He said, receiving a worrisome nod in response. "Let's start again."

They took their spots, again. She was a little more prepared this time when he stepped into her. _Three to the right...three back. Two to the left -turrrnnnnn, turn Sarah, don't pivot! Three sidesteps..._ She murmured this to herself while trying her hardest not to let Roldan throw her off balance. It was hard. Her eyes kept following him, causing her feet to want to do the same. He was walking in circles around her, carefully, precisely. It was strange for some reason, predatory almost. That's when something clicked. These steps...she was supposed to be running away from him? So this dance...it was -a chase? How strange. She finished on her mark, with Roldan standing directly behind her.

"Well done. You've mastered point five percent of the Selection." He said, sarcastically. Sarah turned to face him, her arms already crossed over her chest.

"I thought you said this one was physical?" She asked.

"Yes, we obviously haven't gotten that far yet. Now, onward to four. The last official dance of the evening will be the Partner. It is the only coupled dance of the four. Usually, you would chose your own partner, but given the circumstances, your partner will be Jareth." He said. _Oh, wonderful..._ -She thought. "Are you familiar with any form of dance in the Above?" He asked.

"Uh, no. Not formal anyway."

"Alright then-" He took a step towards her, wrapping one arm around her back and taking her left hand in his to hold level with his shoulder. "This is how you will stand."

"Do we have to be this close?" She asked, uncomfortably, unsure if she meant she and Roldan, or she and Jareth. She looked up, his bright green eyes beaming like emeralds.

"Yes." He answered, and with nothing but a gasp from Sarah, bent forward until she was practically at a ninety degree angle. "Are you ready for this one?" He asked, teasingly. She coughed a little in response. "There are several ways to go about this, and is really up to the preference of your partner. Since I know Jareth, I'll show you something akin to his preferred technique." He said, and twirled her back into an upright position. She saw spots for a minute, but quickly blinked them away. For a moment, she thought about asking if it would just be easier for Jareth to teach her all these dances. She was a little uncomfortable being so close to Roldan. But then she thought again. Was she really thinking that? As if she would be any more comfortable being so close to Jareth! Hell! She'd probably be squirming the entire time. No...it was good that she was with Roldan. They were still relative strangers, that was the reason for her apprehension. But it was better that way. There was no devilish undertone trying to worm its way under her skin. No suggestive touches, no conniving smiles... No, he was perfectly professional, clean and sterile. She liked it. She needed it from him just as she needed the opposite from Jareth. She blinked through her daze and gave him a stern nod, feeling somehow resolved of an issue she didn't remember having.

"Alright, I got this. But, could you warn me the next time you're going to snap my spine?" She asked. Roldan cracked a smirk, and whisked her away.

* * *

  



	26. Pawn To H4, part 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While unbeknown to her, Sarah has succeeded in obtaining the one thing the Goblin King has desired for hundreds of years -power over the Labyrinth. After being hidden for years from his diabolical wrath, Sarah finds herself alone and vulnerable as Jareth's dark desires are finally aloud to rear their ugly heads. As always, the only question is, are things really as they seem?

Sarah hobbled over towards the dining table, perching herself on the edge as a Goblin brought forth a pitcher of water. She filled her cup, and downed it before she even realized the rim had touched her lips. Whoo. She sighed and leaned back a bit, lifting her feet from the floor. It wasn't that she was exerted or anything, but she'd never danced in heels this high before. She wanted to say it was hours he had her twirling about, but she wasn't sure. They went through each dance again -and again -and again. And only after some pretty pitiful begging, did he allow her a short break.

She watched him from over her cup. He was sorting through some books and papers on a table. She tilted her head as she contemplated him. He was being a lot nicer than he was yesterday. Maybe they really had just gotten off on the wrong foot? Hmm... She pursed her lips as she pondered the possible development of what could forge some kind of relationship between them. He seemed ok... Sure, he was Jareth's right hand man, but he wasn't nearly as horrifying as she thought. He hadn't been forceful or negatively physical at all. He hadn't even uttered a single insult since she'd been here. Maybe...maybe they could do more than just get along. Maybe...they could be...dare she say -friends?

This new hypothesis struck her. She watched him, all broad shouldered and inky black hair. Could she really call him a friend one day? What if she told him something...something she shouldn't...and he reported back to Jareth? She narrowed her eyes on him then. Of course he would report back to Jareth. That's his job. No, she couldn't trust him. And if she couldn't trust him, how could they ever be friends? At least he was docile.

He turned, leaving his papers be, and walked up to join Sarah at the table.

"You should be sitting in a chair." He commented. Sarah ignored him by swinging her legs. She didn't see, but Roldan stopped then, giving in to let his eyes roam over her. She was so young, so fresh and naive. It was strange. The women he was used to were hundreds of years old, well matured and sophisticated, even if their appearance was younger than that of Sarah. There was a light about her, something he recalled Jareth mentioning, but hadn't been able to really figure out until just now. True, she was still crude and unrefined and ignorant and rude and every bit the brat he thought her to be; but there was something...

She turned and looked him, her lower lip glistening from the sip of water she'd just taken.

"My feet hurt. I'm not used to wearing shoes like this." She said. He snapped himself back to attention in an instant, and lowered his gaze from her as he took a seat.

"That won't be a problem." He murmured. She cocked her head to one side, peering down at him.

"What do you mean?"

"You will be barefoot at any social gathering." He said. Sarah pursed her lips.

"Really? That doesn't seem very proper."

"Proper, is what society says it is."

"Why can't I wear shoes?"

"It's more natural; the physical connection to the earth...it represents purity. "

"Hmm.."

There was a small silence then, with Roldan's gaze kept lowered to the table cloth, while Sarah's burned for his attention.

"What will it be like?" She blurted, suddenly. Roldan raised an eyebrow, but didn't look up.

"What will what be like?"

"Being Queen...being a part of Court. Being married...being married to Jareth." Jareth's name lingered in the silence that followed her question. Roldan began to scowl, as if strained.

"There is nothing grander than being an Underground Queen." He said. Sarah stopped swaying her legs.

"I don't think you answered my question."

"Life with His Majesty, will be whatever you make of it." He said, coldly, as if recoiling. His tone made her frown. Hm, maybe they weren't buddy buddy enough to be talking seriously about their mutual Goblin King. She turned away, staring blankly at the wooden planks of the floor. "Sarah-" Roldan spoke up. Sarah's head darted back, her eyes wide and expectant. "I know the means by which you've arrived here. I must warn you, push your personal feelings aside." He said, cryptically. Sarah drew her brow on him. "You must not show any weakness. You can't let anyone in court know you are here against your will."

"Why? Will Jareth get in trouble?"

"No...to your discomfort, it is perfectly acceptable for a King to steal his bride. No, what I'm saying is that it comes with a risk. Showing weakness in your marriage will reflect upon the stability of the kingdom. Understand? I don't think I need to explain why it would be bad if other nations thought Jareth, or his position were weakened..."

"I understand." Sarah's response was quick, soft and heartfelt. This was something she'd understood and come to accept early on. She'd told herself this, over and over: Jareth aside, she would care for his subjects, she would be a Queen for the sake of the kingdom. What Roldan was saying now made perfect sense to her...and while she had no shortage of_personal feelings_ working against it...she knew -she would swallow them if it meant protecting the Goblins, her friends. She had an image to present...part of that meant coming off as content and loyal to her husband...she may not like it, but she was prepared to set aside her pride in this instance.

Roldan glanced up at the hum of sincerity he heard in Sarah's voice. He looked up to her, but her gaze was cast somewhere else, lost in some thought. He focused his eyes on her face.

"Why did he take you?" He heard himself ask. He saw her brow twitch.

"I...I don't know."

"You didn't want to come here? You haven't slept with one another..."

"You might be just as confused as I am. I don't have the slightest clue why I'm here. He just showed up and forced me to come here. He said I was suitable...that I would make a good Queen, but...I'm sure there's plenty of better qualified candidates out there." She said, turning her gaze back to face him. He opened his mouth, about to speak, something curious coming to mind, when the door opened and a Goblin came scuttling across the room.

They both turned, distracted by the intrusion. The creature bumbled up to Roldan, but turned to bow to Sarah before speaking.

"Master Roldan, Grigor needs you in the dungeons."

Sarah furrowed her brow again. What? Roldan sighed, as if irritated and made move to stand.

"What is it this time?" He asked. The Goblin hopped back, giving him room to move.

"One of the attendants got himself stuck in the knee-splitter. We tried using the kitty-paw to get him out but...it's just getting messy. We been at it hour hours now. Grigor sent me's to get you." It explained, and had Sarah wondering why it came to Roldan and not Jareth. But then she thought, _hey he's s'posed to be like his -second in command? Perhaps the all-mighty Goblin King can't be bothered with matters of malfunctioning torture apparatuses... _She looked away from the creature then, trying not to imagine the scene it was describing.

Roldan huffed in an annoyed manner and moved to step around the table.

"Sarah, I'm sorry but I should probably handle this." He grunted. Sarah hopped down from the table.

"Oh, no, you definitely should."

"We'll have to finish early today-"

"_Oh no_." She said, mockingly, giving herself a small little smile of victory. Roldan tried not to sneer. He turned, walked back to the table across the room, and returned with a stack of books in his hands.

"I'd like you to read through chapter five in each of these for tomorrow." He said, and deftly plopped the mound in Sarah's arms, giving her his own smug smirk.

Sarah gaped. What? He's giving me homework! She stared, aghast, as he stepped away from her.

"What? Seriously? You're giving me homework too?" Her thoughts were so loud, they had no choice but to escape through her mouth. He turned and smirked at her over his shoulder.

"Yes. Think you can handle it? I'd like to start getting into the kingdom's history and it would be better if you had some sort of a base-line to start our discussion." He said. Sarah wanted to whine, very loud and obnoxiously. "I'll plan on you being here earlier tomorrow, say...nine am?" He asked.

"Ten...thirty." She bargained, still put off and distracted by the weight of the pile of books dragging her down.

"Very well, as long as you show up this time. I hope you enjoy the rest of your day; now, if you'll excuse me, I have a dismembered Goblin in need of rescuing." He said, and quickly stalked behind the frantic Goblin out into the hallway.

* * *

Sarah trudged through the halls, books in tow, mindlessly navigating the maze that would lead her back to her room. She tried not to drag her feet as she walked, but she couldn't help but groan at the prospect of having to sit down and comb through each and every one of these dusty old books. _Ugh, chapter five? In all of them? It'll be a miracle if I'm even able to read these things. With my luck they'll be written in Old English, or Old Old English. Urrgggg..._

She threw her head back as she walked, glaring at the ceiling as she focused on _not _stomping her feet (she might break a heel). _At least he let me out early._

She reached her room to find out it was almost six o'clock. She set her books down with a thud, and practically threw herself into a chair. She sat there for a few minutes, enjoying the solitude, before searching for her little bell. They'd been in that stuffy old room for hours, and hadn't stopped to eat or anything. Gah, she was lucky she could convince him to give her a water break. Wasn't she Queen? (or, almost Queen?) When was Roldan going to start listening to her? _Pfff, never. He reports to Jareth, remember?_ She kicked her feet up on another chair and waited for the waiter to arrive.

She only had to wait a couple of minutes, but found herself taking more time to decide on what she wanted before removing the covering. Her grumbling stomach told her something juicy, steak maybe, ribs, brisket -_Gah_. But her brain kept reminding her of how long it'd been since she'd last had any kind of work out, and argued that it would be best to go for something a little more...healthy. She snarled at the covered tray, loathing the decision to opt for a salad. She was really going to have to do something about that soon. She was starting to go stir crazy. _Hmm...maybe I'll go for a run some time -see what Jareth has to say about that._

She turned, feeling that she might as well get started on her homework. She opened the first book, its cover falling open and hitting the table top with a thud, and sent a small puff of dust into the air. She had to blink the soot out of her eyes, and wondered when exactly was the last time someone had read any of these. She flipped through the first couple pages. It had no title, no index, only a fancy cover page with Jareth's seal on it. She took a deep breath. _Enjoy the rest of your day, my ass_ -she groaned. *Sigh* this was sure to be one hell of a bore.

* * *

She finished the first book relatively quickly; it'd only taken about an hour to read through chapter five. She pushed her now empty plate away, feeling victorious- or she did until looking over and counting the four other, larger, books that still awaited her attention. She narrowed her eyes on them; it was like they were laughing at her. _I bet Roldan did this just to be an ass. I shouldn't even bother, what's he really going to do?_ She asked herself this, knowing full well she probably didn't want to know the answer. She pushed it aside, reaching out for the stack and migrating to the couch beside the fire. The sky was starting to dim, and the room was getting a cozy kind of hue that made her want to just curl up and roast marshmallows. She opened the second book, wondering if the Underground even had marshmallows.

"And onward to...The Death of The Mighty: The Formation of The Council of Eight. Ooh, now that sounds exciting. *Guck*" She said to herself, sneering down at its yellowing pages and faded type. At least she had some idea as to what this one was about.

She tried, really, she did. She forced herself to sit on that couch for a good three hours. She'd finished the next two books, each one significantly longer than the last. When she looked up, it was already dark outside, the sound of crickets and unknown beasts beginning to fill the void with their haunting symphony. She closed her book, and began tapping her index finger against it, incessantly. There was only so much reading she could do in one sitting, especially given content as dry as this. It was almost ten o'clock now. Where did the day go? It felt like only minutes ago she was waking to Jareth in her bed. And yet, that memory felt like it'd happened eons ago. It was strange, not seeing him all day. It felt just like the previous time she'd been without his company -lonely, and...quiet. She wondered where he was, what he was doing, why he wasn't pestering her. It bothered her that she thought of these things. She hated being left alone here, in this unfamiliar place. Even if she were fighting for her life, at least she wasn't alone. _Wow, Sarah, keep thinking like that, see where it will get you_, She thought, and shook her head from side to side.

She knew, deep down, that it was a good thing he left her alone like this. He gave her space, freedom -_loosely defined_. And while she hated the solitude, she knew that if she didn't have it, she'd probably go mad without it. But wasn't she already? She had to be mad, for actually wanting his company. She began to ponder then ...what if the Underground wasn't the only thing she was acclimating to? _Huh? No. Don't even think about that- No way._

She grunted, glaring hard at the pattern of light that danced across the floor boards from the fire. Enough of that. She kept trying to tell herself to stop putting him at the center of everything, and found that it was harder to take him out once he'd wormed his way in. _I need something else. I need other things in my life besides him. Listen to what Liana told you. Look for something else._ She told herself, and groaned, loudly and obnoxiously in response.

She sprawled out over the couch, and curled her head back over the arm, wading in her boredom. The blood began to slowly pool in the top of her head, and she welcomed the slight hazy sensation that came with it; it helped to ease her thoughts.

She opened her eyes, and peered across the room. It was quiet. Deathly quiet. The kind of quiet that only came in movies when you knew something horrible was about to happen. She waited, counting along with the ticking of the clock, but nothing came. She glared at the ceiling, knowing that the only reason she was feeling that way -aside from the lack of circulation to her brain- was because she in fact wanted something to happen. She was always looking for disaster. She turned her head again, and this time her eyes caught on something.

She could see the doors. They were upside down. But this new vantage point seemed to call out to her attention. Her eyes slowly flickered, first to the door that led to the hall, then fixated on its mysterious counterpart. _Hmm, distraction._ She rolled off of the couch, taking a minute to let the blood dribble back to the rest of her body, and padded her way across the room.

She stood before the set of double doors, awed and hesitant as always, contemplating what she wanted to do. She'd come up to this door about five times now, and never once had the courage to actually see where it went. She'd seen Jareth leave through it a few times. It was never locked. Wherever it went, it couldn't be dangerous. She puffed up her shoulders, as if trying to prove that she was in no way intimidated by an inanimate object, and reached out for the handle.

"Well, nothing for it." She murmured, and swung the door open.

It was dark beyond the threshold. She couldn't see where it led, but assumed it was some kind of corridor rather than an actual room. She stared it down for a long while, waiting for something to jump out at her. Nothing happened. She pursed her lips, and turned back to look around her room, hoping to find some sort of lamp or candle she could use to navigate. There was nothing. She turned back to the door, cowering a little as its presence seemed to stretch and loom high above her. _Oh, come on, Sarah. Where's your sense of adventure?_ She asked herself, recalling how she hadn't thought twice about entering the Labyrinth, or choosing to plummet into certain death, or face an entire Goblin army, or run into a room which held no one point of gravity. The more she thought about it, the more ridiculous her current situation seemed. Why was she so afraid of a door? Maybe she was getting soft and timid in her old age. _Bah!_ And with that bit of motivation, she treaded off into the darkness.

To her surprise, and relief, it only took her a few brisk strides to reach the end of the corridor. Her eyes had started to adjust, and she could make out the frame of a door emerging from the shadows. She stopped before it, raising her hand and knotting her fingers as she took one last look at the dim oval of light that was her room, way back in the distance. She turned back around, placing her hand firmly on the handle of the door, and exhaled slowly as she clicked down the latch.

The creak of the door echoed through the corridor, as if signaling an alarm of her intrusion. She drew up her shoulders and winced at the sound. Feeling it was too much, too nerve-wracking, she stopped it, and decided to try to squeeze through the small space allotted.

She closed the door behind her, and couldn't prevent the jolt that shot through her as a fire suddenly blazed to life somewhere off to her left. Her fingers lingered on the latch as she stepped away from it, peering up and all around.

Even with the fire, the room was dimly lit. She looked to her left, and saw the fireplace; just like her room, it had a couch and several chairs placed around it. She could see a door on the far wall. There was a nook cut out in front of her, it's three walls lined with books, the opening guarded by a working desk. She started to gaze more freely, and saw there was another door just off to her right, and several storage-like furniture pieces littering the otherwise vacant space of the wall. She pretended not to know they were dressers. Aside from that...there wasn't much of anything worth looking at. It was dark, and rather drab. Nothing compared to the elegance of her room. She couldn't even pick out a consistent color scheme.

As her eyes moved from left to right, they couldn't help but lock on the one thing that really stood out about the place -its window. It was a large arch cutout, wide, stretching a good five feet. The silver light from the outside world played against the golden hue of the fire, casting a strange iridescence over the furniture. The light shone into the room in bright beams, unmasking all that tried to hide within the darkness. That's when she saw the bed.

She took a step further into the room, trying her utmost best not to ground her feet and scowl.

It was large, _of course_, with black sheets and gold trim to boot. That area of the room was a nook as well, a circular add on to the rest of the rectangle. And it was lofted, just a step or two. Combined with the brilliance of the window, it looked like a fucking altar.

"I knew it!" She growled, unable to stop her foot as it stomped against the floorboards. She started snarling, feeling toxic fumes of rage start to work their way out of her ears. "He has a God damned private door right to my room! Of course! Ugh." She threw her hands up, outraged, and then crossed them firmly over her chest. Really, she should have expected this. Actually, she did. But seeing it come to truth was another story. _The audacity of that man! He can't even manage a walk down the hall? No. He has to have his own private little shortcut. Prolly for any late night urges. Don't want any inconvenience there, would we! _She huffed and gruffed and puffed and glared all over the room. Her fingers gripped her biceps viciously, her shoulders drawn up into herself.

She stood there, as if waiting for the furniture to say something snarky to her so she could tear the place apart. But, as she stood, alone and unknown, her sense of curiosity began to reason with her. If this was really Jareth's room, now would be her best chance to do some snooping -for what, she didn't know- but maybe she would find something...something interesting that she may be able to use to her advantage. Her brow wriggled mischievously as narrowed eyes peered around the room through a new lens. _This is supposed to be Jareth's room? Where's all the flash? All the ego and sparkles?_ There was nothing, nothing but bare essentials. For a moment, she wondered if this really was Jareth's room...but shook the thought away. Who else's room would it be? No. It had to be Jareth's.

She leaned back towards the fire, trying to see if perhaps he had left anything out on the coffee table -nope. She turned, and stalked towards the desk. Surely, there was something worth digging through there.

She walked precariously around the desk, as if toying with it, running her fingers along the edge. It looked similar to the one in the library. Hm. She threw herself into the much-larger-than-necessary chair, and placed both hands flat on the desk top as she scanned its contents.

Nothing jumped out at her. There were some books, some folders with papers, documents that needed signing, things like that. But all that was completely useless to her if she couldn't read any of it. Nothing she found was in english. She pouted as she toyed with the different pens and other strange utensils that loitered amongst the papers. She huffed, resting her jaw in her hand. He didn't even have any decorative nick-knacks worth her attention. She sat up, dangerously close to throwing a tantrum. _Ugh, this is so boring!_

She crossed her arms and scowled, irritated with Jareth for not leaving her something to snoop through. She glanced down, gaining new hope when she noticed the desk had drawers. The first two were locked. The third merely had refills of ink and wax, and the fourth held loose sheets of parchment. She wanted to growl, but then a higher force decided to take pity on her.

She'd jerked the drawer out quickly, the amount of force causing something lodged within the back to come rolling into her presence. She cocked her head to one side as she picked up a crystal from the lonely drawer of papers. She brought it close to her face, but saw nothing. She shook it, not knowing what else to do with it, but nothing happened. She pursed her lips. _Hmm...wonder what this is..._ Why would Jareth have one crystal hiding in a drawer of papers? _Curious..._ She tossed it up in the air a couple of times, deciding what to do next. She leaned back, and propped her feet up on the desk.

"So, this is where you spend your dreary nights? Plotting all things cruel and diabolical? Hm...bit of a let down."

She wondered how much time she had before Jareth came. Did he know she was in here? Could he? Did he keep tabs on her like that? Or was he actually busy?

She placed the crystal back in the drawer, and stood, thinking it would be better to get a move on just in case. She didn't want to be caught anywhere near here let alone snooping. She walked back across the room. The only other things to investigate were his dressers, and those weren't really something she wanted to go through. She frowned at the floor, feeling her sad little excuse for an adventure was exactly as disappointing as it seemed, when a beam of light caught her eye.

She looked up, the presence of the window calling back her attention. She took a step towards it, but caught herself, wary should she venture too close to the bed._ Oh, come one, it's just a bed. He's not even here. Besides, whether or not a bed is present hasn't deterred him any. _She smirked at her own voice of confidence, wondering at what point in time it had decided to join the party. She hopped up the step, steering clear of the bed, and keeping her eyes on the window.

It was larger up close, so large it had her wondering what the practicality of having a window this size, with no glass, in a room this small, was. What happened when it rained? Or if there was a storm? Does it snow here?

She placed her hands on the sill, marking on how wide it was, the stone a good two feet thick, and leaned out into the open air. The night breeze felt good on her face, and smelled fresh and crisp, kissing her cheeks as it sang its haunting lullaby. She hadn't really been looking, but once her eyes focused, she felt her brow soften and her mouth start to fall open at what she saw.

She thought the view from her room was good. She could see part of the Labyrinth, and the surrounding forest; but not much else. As she gazed out now, however, she saw everything, absolutely everything. She saw the Labyrinth. She saw the forest and the desert and the twinkling lights of the city as they danced in an effort to mimic that of the stars. It was beautiful. Blues and violets and greens and reds, blanketed in a sheet of black velvet, all swirled and blurred through a maze of forever changing pin pricks, each tiny hole allowing only the faintest glow, the most delicate streak of light to break through, before the sea of midnight covered it in its luscious blanket once more. The light moved and glittered with a will of its own. She looked on, the world stretching far and thin. The Labyrinth looked like no more than a thin band from here, the land going on and on before submitting to the caress of the horizon. She looked down, wondering how high up they must be to see so far ahead. Given the night's shadow, she couldn't even see the bottom of the tower. Good thing she wasn't afraid of heights.

She leaned out a little further, bewitched, beguiled, enchanted, and lost to every other possible synonym as she melted into the landscape. _He gets to look at this every night?_ She sighed as a breeze caressed her cheek, and resumed to sing her its sweet melody.

  



	27. Pawn To H4, part 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While unbeknown to her, Sarah has succeeded in obtaining the one thing the Goblin King has desired for hundreds of years -power over the Labyrinth. After being hidden for years from his diabolical wrath, Sarah finds herself alone and vulnerable as Jareth's dark desires are finally aloud to rear their ugly heads. As always, the only question is, are things really as they seem?

Sarah froze; her attentions heightening to a state of pain as she heard the dreadful sound of a door opening and closing from somewhere behind her. She whipped her head up, ready to run for her life or jump out the window if need be, but found herself locked in a state of perpetual reaction and over-burgeoning potential energy as she realized Jareth hadn't noticed she was there.

She stood, like a statue, refusing to breathe, her eyes as big as the moon behind her. _Oh, shit! Shitshitshitshit. Damn it, Sarah! You and your stupid curiosity! You should've gotten out while you were ahead! _She screamed at herself over and over. _Of course this would happen. Go snooping in Jareth's room and not expect him to show up? Now that's just stupid._She stood there, waiting, the butterflies beating so hard she thought she might double over with a hernia any minute. And yet nothing happened, all she could do was watch.

Jareth had entered with his head bowed. He was reading something, and carefully shut the door behind him as he came in. He was wearing a cape, and shook it off to hang on a nearby rack, keeping his eyes on whatever paper he was reading all the while. His movements were slow, as if distracted. She wondered what he was so focused on... He turned, and headed towards his desk, leaning over it as he began searching for something. He paused for a moment, resting both hands on the edge of the desk as if catching his breath, then brought one up to push back the skin of his forehead. He sighed, and resumed his shuffling.

Sarah found herself frowning, but wasn't quite sure why. Jareth still hadn't realized she was standing no more than 15 feet away from him. His guard was down...and he looked -tired. Her brow began to tighten, as if just now seeing him for the first time, and was having trouble digesting just what it was she was seeing. There was something desolate about his expression, a hollowness in his eyes. He looked utterly exhausted. It was something she'd never seen on him before. He kept his head lowered as he walked, though she suspected it wasn't from his reading. He looked worse for wear, and for some reason, that deeply disturbed her. Gone were the mannerisms of a deviant, someone confident and calculating all things sinister. Whatever she saw now, was whatever was left. Her brow continued to tighten as she thought this. His walls were down, and he looked...broken. He turned, and began pacing over towards the fire. He'd made it halfway across the room before cutting himself off mid-step, his head twitching, his brow drawing. He looked up suddenly, right at her, and all of a sudden, the walls were back, all the wear, all the dole, all her concern for him- it was gone, completely and totally gone, replaced by a huge beaming smile.

Sarah found herself blinking like a fool as she watched this transformation take place right before her very eyes. It was something so small...and yet it held a profound impact on her. She couldn't dwell on that for long, however, as she noticed his smile fade just as quickly as it had appeared. He turned towards her, fractionally, his mouth curling up in a strange sneer that not even he was aware of. She began to worry her brow.

"How...did you get in here?" He asked, sounding neither mad nor glad, but genuinely curious. Sarah opened her mouth, and out flew all the butterflies, leaving her steadied for the reaction she so desired to give him.

"Through the little secret passage you've got going straight into my room." She said, sharply. Jareth's eyes flickered to the door in question, his brow raising just slightly, his sneer curling a little further.

"I wondered when your curiosity would get the better of you." He said, and turned away as he resumed his walk to a chair beside the fire. Sarah glared, hard. What? That's it? No more cheeky retorts? No threats? She felt greatly offended at his lack of enthusiasm; she felt like she was being dismissed well before she even arrived. She tried not to stomp as she made her way for the door.

"Yes, well, didn't mean to barge in on you. I'll just go back to my room." She snarled, and reached out to jerk on the handle. Not much to her surprise, it wouldn't budge. "Let me out." She snapped.

"Why don't you stay a bit?" He suggested, not taking his eyes from the document in his hands. He'd sat down by this point, and had kicked his boots up on the coffee table between he and the fire. She became irritated then, not so much that he was keeping her here, but by the fact that he wouldn't look at her.

"I'd rather not. And besides, you look busy." She said, in an effort to reason with him. She kept her hand on the latch and her eyes on him, who couldn't have looked more detached.

"I haven't seen much of you all day. Please, stay and visit." -_You're not seeing much of me now_, she grumbled to herself.

Sarah took a deep breath, and stalked her way to sit in the chair furthest away from him. She sat there, staring daggers at him, and began tapping her finger against the arm of the chair. Minutes began to pass. He didn't say anything. Didn't look up from whatever it was he was looking at, didn't acknowledge her in the slightest. Ugh, that irked her so. If he wasn't going to pay any attention to her, why keep her here? Perhaps she should be glad he wasn't paying any attention to her...but even that thought made her angry.

"What are you doing?" She asked, unable to stand the silence and one-sided tension any longer. He flipped back a page before responding.

"I'm going over Davion's quota for this quarter." He informed, his voice low and sterile, as if his mind was elsewhere. Sarah eased back in her seat, just a little.

"The thing Roldan was sent to do?" She asked.

"Yes..." He murmured. Sarah folded her hands in her lap, feeling her anger wash away much more quickly than anticipated. She just felt awkward now.

"What did he have to take quota on?" She asked, and even in his wayward state, Jareth noticed the alter, and lack of once present aggression in her voice.

"The north may be less habitable, but it is rich in natural resources. It's full of mineral and stone mines, timber and such...much of our exports come from the north."

"Oh."

It became silent again after that. Without her agitation, Sarah didn't quite know how to handle herself. It was the same way in the library. God, she hated these silences. She eased back in her chair, and turned her gaze over to the fire. She wasn't sure how long she stared at the flicker of the flames.

"So, how was your first day?" Jareth asked. Sarah tilted her head, which at some point had lowered to rest on the heel of her hand.

"Fine, I guess." She answered, the sound of her voice, paired with the staggered crackle of the fire and crinkle of turned paper, being the sounds filling the void.

"Were you and Roldan able to play nice?" He asked, with only a hint of the amount of tease he would have normally put into that question.

"Yes, actually. Why are you having him teach me all this stuff?" She asked.

"He's well qualified."

"And you aren't?" She heard herself ask, completely bi-passing her mental filter. She caught herself just in time. "I just figured you would have been the one-"

"I thought you might like it better if you had someone other than me to pester you." He said, gaining a small perk of his usual self. Sarah wanted to scowl, but couldn't stop the smirk that cracked the line of her lips. She would never admit it, but it was nice to hear some kind of humor after a day dealing with Mr. Stickuphisass.

"And I don't suppose you have more important things to deal with?" She asked.

"That too."

She shifted in her seat, turning to look at him. His attentions were still hardened on his document. She rolled her head back against the chair.

"How long will it take to go through that?" She asked.

"I have three more to check after this."

Sarah groaned for him.

"So, have you learned anything yet?" He asked, distracting her, and bringing her gaze back up to him before it could sink to the floor.

"Yes, actually. Quite a lot for a first day, I would say." Jareth wasn't sure why, but there was something snippy about her tone.

"You seem like you have something to say."

Sarah turned more towards him, and drew her legs up to sit on them as she perched.

"More of a question, actually. Mind explaining to me what this whole female superiority B S is?" She asked. Jareth paused just as he was about to flip a page, his brow twitching, though instead of looking up to her, he merely blinked at his paper. She started gripping the arm of her chair.

"B S?" He retorted. Sarah narrowed her eyes.

"Yes. Roldan tried telling me something about how women are supposed to have power over men-"

"They do." Jareth interrupted. "Women hold a great deal of legal and social power over the men in this realm."

"If that's so, then how come you keeping telling me what to do? How is it you can bully me around and make me do-"

"Because there are rules." The power from Jareth's statement came not from irritation, but the cold, casual manner in which he said it. Sarah glared. "First, I'll inform you that you are a human. As of right now, you hold no position, and therefore no grouping, with the conformities of my culture. That will change, however, once we are married. Second, there are _rules_. Roldan will explain to you the different powers and rights women hold in league with and over men. With that said, court life is very different from private life. In the home, women are still expected to obey their husbands."

Sarah could only purse her lips at his downcast gaze. This was nothing but backwards medieval bull shit. She snarled and sat back down in her chair.

"What kind of powers will I have once we're married?" She asked. She thought she saw Jareth twitch just then, but wasn't sure.

"Ask Roldan." She drew her brow on him.

"Why can't you just tell me?"

"Because I don't want to." He said, plainly. His attitiude was starting to rub her the wrong way. Starting? Ha! She decided it would be best to just change the sbject.

"You made Roldan wait for hours for me."

"No, you made Roldan wait for hours for you." He retorted.

"You told me to show up when I wanted. If I had known he was there, I wouldn't have made him wait. What you did was-"

"Was what, exactly?" He interjected, drawing close to actually giving away some kind of emotion.

"Mean." There, that cracked a smirk from the dismal looking Goblin King. He huffed, his lips curling on one side.

"Consider it as a sentencing to time out, then." He said.

"What? Why?"

"The way he conducted himself yesterday was out of line. I gave him some time to think over his attitude towards you." While he thought she would like this answer, it only made her frown.

"I don't blame Roldan for being upset yesterday. Making him sit there for hours was petty."

"You're taking his side, now? Close chums already, are we?" He asked, mockingly, the first sign of real emotion tonight. Sarah scowled.

"No- I'm just saying-"

"Were you not so upset with him last night? Was it not you who asked me to put him in his place? I could have done far worse to him for disrespecting you. So what if I made him sit in a chair, grumbling with nothing but his own self for a few hours? Do you actuallly care? Or are you still set on finding any means of becoming cross with me?"

Sarah shut her open mouth, his outburst hitting her like a slap in the face. Why was he always right? She pouted, and glared away from him.

"What were you doing after I left this morning, anyway?" He asked, as if using the question as a means to move away from his own annoyance. She held her nose up in the air, debating whether or not to tell him,

"I had tea with Liana." She said, pointedly. She didn't see, but Jareth peered up to her then.

"Really, now?"

"Mhm."

"And how did that go?" His tone was suddenly sharper, and he sat just a little on edge, but she was unaware of this shift. She continued to glare off at nothing, leaving Jareth wary and wondering if they sat on the verge of another disaster like the one that happened the last time Sarah had had tea with Liana...

"Good."

"What did you talk about?" He asked, as gently as possible. Sarah glanced back at him.

"Why?" She countered. Luckily, he'd glanced back down just before she'd caught sight of him, coming off as uninterested would make her less suspicious.

"Just trying to have conversation."

"Clothes." She said. Jareth tensed then, squeezing his paper between his fingertips.

"Oh?" He asked, quirking his voice up an octave and raising a brow that wordlessly accussed her of being full of shit.

"Yea...I wanted some pointers on what to wear."

"If you have any questions, you could have just asked me-"

"Thanks, but, no. I'd rather have a female opinion on those kind of things anyway."

"Is that why you're dressed the way you are, then?" He asked.

"-Yes..." She said, warily, as if preparing herself for another Roldan-brand-critisism. She waited, and was surprised when Jareth then sighed, heavily, as if releiving some great weight from his shoulders. Huh?

"You look incredibly- ...very lovely, today." He said, his voice terse, as if the words were a struggle on his tongue. Sarah didn't quite know how to respond. She drew her brow a little.

"Um...thank you. Roldan was a little less complementative." She added on, to distract from her thank you. Jareth huffed.

"Roldan needs to get over himself."

"What?"

Jareth quirked a brow, as if not realizing what he had said.

"Nothing...so, is that all you talked about?" He asked, changing the subject. Sarah took a deep breath. Did she really want to say this?

"We talked about...things. The Underground...my life here." She murmured, and looked away, shamefully almost. Jareth set his pad of papers on his lap.

"And?" He urged, eager to gain any insight into what ever it was Liana was scheming for. He drew his brow at the way she struggled, her expression twisting discomfortably, before exhaling deeply.

"I know you've told me this, but now I'm telling you. I'm here now, there's no changing that. I need to accept it, try to have a life here. So, that's what I'm going to do. I'm going to humor you and Liana, and give this place a chance, give being Queen a chance." She said. With this, Jareth felt an immense sense of ease wash over him. Did she really just say that? Had Liana influenced her to feel that way? Why? He was on the verge of feeling giddy for the furture, when she turned to look him straight in the eye. "With that said, the Underground and you are two different things. I may accept living here, but that has nothing to do with you. Giving the Underground a chance does not mean I am giving _you_ a chance." And with that, Jareth felt a sting from her eyes stong enough to make him wince in response. He sat a litle more rigid, waiting to see if she would continue. His eyes flickered down with her silent glare, and he slowly turned back to his agenda, not willing to acknowledge this moment of defeat.

"...One step at a time." He said, hiding the hurt that came with her stare. He hadn't expected that. He wasn't sure what her demeanor would be after that morning, wasn't sure how she would act after a day without him, after a day with someone else. At least she was admitting she was going to try. At least she wasn't screaming at him. At least she wasn't crying.

Sarah continued to stare at Jareth for a long while, watching as he slowly sunk back into the void of his work. Then she too lowered her eyes, and looked away, resuming her position of gazing out at the fire. She said nothing to him, having nothing to say, and simply joyed in the peace and quiet. In a way, it was solitude, yet she wasn't alone. Tension aside, it was nice, having someone else nearby, and yet not bothering you in the slightest. She liked work-mode Jareth...or maybe he was still being restrained because of last night...

They sat there in silence for a long time, long enough for Sarah's limbs to become stiff and achy. How long did he expect her to stay here? She glanced down to the floor, her eyes tracing the cracks between the floorboards. Could she really complain? This is what she'd wanted, right? Kind of? Maybe? She sighed, and looked out over the rest of the room. He wouldn't let her leave, but no one said anything about having to sit there all night.

She got up, and uncertainly began walking about the room, waiting to see if Jareth would interject. He didn't. He didn't look up or give any acknowledgment of her actions in the slightest. Seriously, it was getting late out and she still had homework to do... She sighed again and mosied on over back to the window, knowing she could stare out it for hours without losing interest.

She stood before it, and peered out over the ledge. It was dark, and foggy; she couldn't see much, but the light from the city lit up the space beyond like a circus of lightening bugs. She leaned her head against the wall, and tried to listen for any sounds of Goblin night life. However she tried, she couldn't hear anything; maybe they were too high up.

She started shifting from foot to foot, her heels really starting to get the better of her. She glanced down to her hands as they splayed over the thick stone of the sill. She then glanced back to Jareth, and got an idea.

She pressd her weight down on her hands, and hoisted herself up onto the ledge, resting her back against the window and her feet out along the sill. Oh, she was so daring. She looked out over the ledge again, and couldn't stop the intrusive thought worming its way through, pegging her to wonder what would happen should she fall. _What would happen?_ She asked herself, again, a litle more seriosuly. _Would I plummet to my death? Would Jareth save me? ... _She brushed her hair behind her ear as she leaned further and further out over the window. For some reason, something about her and Liana's conversation started to come back to her...

"Enjoying the view?" Jareth asked, his voice sounding much closer than it should have. Sarah nearly jumped out of her skin and out the window, whipping around to find him leaning over her. Her eyes widened, just a few inches away from his. He had one arm leaned up against the window, the other had reached out over her legs.

" *Gasp* My God, what is wrong with you? I could have just fallen out the freaking window!" She yelped, bringing a hand to her chest to help settle her heart. Why did he take such joy in scaring her half to death? He laughed then, a soft rumble deep in his chest. His smile was a coy one, and it was much too close to her own twisting lips.

"I would never let that happen." He affirmed, tilting his head to let it rest against the frame of the window. Sarah thought about squirming away from him, but there was no where to go.

"Oh really? And what if I had slipped when I first got up here?"

"Sarah, I would never let you come to any harm." He said. Sarah scoffed.

"Except from you, you mean?" She snapped. He looked marginally taken aback, but it soon eased.

"If need be. The only pain I would ever allow you to feel will be from my hand and nothing else. That way...it is my burden to bear."

"Oh, how noble and selfless of you, my just and loving husband." She said, harshly, very harshly, and glared away from him, shaking her head in disgust. Jareth frowned. He certainly did think himself selfless and noble to be the one to have to bear both the discomfort of inflicting pain on Sarah, as well as the pain of recieving all of her revoltion for it afterward. He still didn't fully understand her reaction to his discipline. This was the way it was done after all...And besides, he couldn't let anyone else harm her in his stead even if he wanted to.

There posed a significant problem between Sarah and the rest of the world when it came to physical threat, or more specifically at the moment, Roldan. While usually, he would have no issue with Roldan disciplining her, she needed it after all, Sarah could not be threatened. Well, not from anyone besides Jareth, as he held protection over her. But while he was exempt from Liana's wrath, if Sarah felt she were being threatened in any way, by any one else, there would be nothing stopping Liana from intervening, and that was a catastrophe that could not, under any circumstances, ever happen. He and Davion were the only two who knew of Liana's true existance, they were they only two that knew of the deal they'd made. If Roldan ever found out about Liana...let alone Sarah's true purpose? No. That could not happen. And just as he couldn't allow anyone to physically harm her, neither could he let her befall any other manner of physical harm. The whole point of going through the trouble of having her submit to him was to avoid having to kill her...if something ever happened to her...an accident or anything at all...Gods forbid she died somehow...not just she, but any chance of getting his power would be gone. No, he had Sarah protected by every manner of charm and safe keep he knew. If something ever happened...he would know. He would stop it.

All this thinking of tragedy and not-so-overprotectiveness had him growing anxious and brooding, not something he wanted to sink into right now. He closed his eyes briefly, shutting it all out. He could deal with it later, chosing to move past all that quandary for now, and instead tried to distract them both from his dark thoughts. He leaned in a little further-

"You just called me your loving husband." He said, sweet and seductive-like, inching his lips just a centimeter or two from her ear. She shivered all over.

"Ok, no. Let me down." She said, and turned to jump down. For some reason, she thought he might actually listen to her.

She turned to be met face to face with his hooded eyes and that sly, naughty little smile of his. His stance became firmer, and the hand he had placed on the sill over her legs moved to grasp at her thigh.

"Did I mention how lovely you look today?" He practically purred at her. Sarah rose an eyebrow at him. What the hell was this?

"Yes, you did." She answered, trying to ignore the fact that his hand was now kneading up her thigh. His eyes flickered down, probably down the plunging V of her neckline, then slowly rose back up.

"You are very beautiful." He said, and it struck her that there was now no trace of mischeif in his smile to be found. In fact, he looked...sad. His hand tightened around the base of her thigh, and he leaned in those precious few centimeteres to press his face into her hair. She thought she felt the pressure of a kiss, but wasn't sure. "Moon light suits you..." He murmured, and inhaled deeply as he took in the scent of her.

She began to squirm under the weight of his endearments. Normally she...but...no. Not right now. Not tonight. Not after last night... She might not be mad at him anymore, but...

"Jareth, please, let me go." She quietly pleaded, caught somwhere between a rock and a hardplace. She felt him sigh against her neck, and gave in to let him glower there for a minute or two.

"All I want is to make you happy." He whispered, sounding exhausted and worn beyond all repair. Her eyes flickered down, watching his hand as it clenched and reclenched over her thigh, haphazardly pulling on her. For a split-second, she actually caught herself thinking of placing her hand over his, of squeezing her fingers around his just enough to console him, to alleviate some of his troubles. But she didn't. She only frowned instead. "I didn't mean to make you cry."

Sarah felt something snap in the air then. She wasn't sure if it was what he said, or the total sincerity and loss in which he said it, but she now had a pressing urge to get out. She couldn't be here anymore, with him, like this. She needed to break away. No, not tonight. She started fidgeting against him.

"You...you didn't summon me here. That means I can go if I want. You said so yourself." She said, timidly, nervous as to how he would respond. He did have her at the edge of a window after all.

He tensed, and if she had any clue, she would have guessed he actually understood why she needed to leave. He let go over her, and moved away, offering a hand to help her down. She took a step back, awkwardly brushing nonexistant dust from her torso, and kept darting her eyes up to him. He was looking down, towards her, but not really at her. He wasn't really there, lost in some distance thought. That was fine with her, it made her gettaway all the more easy.

"You're right...you're free to go." He said, and without another look to her, made his way back to his chair and his score of spreads and checklists.

At first, Sarah practically skipped to the door, eager to get away. Brooding, emotional Jareth wasn't something she wanted to be around, as she'd come to learn. There was no telling when he may flip the switch and go ape shit on her. But even with this in mind, she found herself standing stiff and hesitant at the door. Something felt...unfinished. What was it? She tried to think, but the answer that came to her was shunned. She shook her head and opened the door. She paused with one foot over the threshold, the plaguing thought refusing to leave. She didn't know why, didn't know where it came from, what possessed her to turn around just then and open her mouth. She had no idea where the thought even came from, or where she found the courage to ask,

"You really want to make me happy?" She let her words linger in the air, just long enough for Jareth to look up at her, their gazes locking. "I need something, Jareth. I need something else...something to look forward to, something to hold on to, to give me hope. I'm not- I'm not asking for today, or tomorrow, or the day after or even ten years from now. I know you won't- I - all I'm asking is for hope, for something to keep me going...hope that maybe...one day...you'll let me see my family again."

Her eyes had lowered as she spoke, but now rose to stare fiercely, fiercely desperate, into Jareth's.

Jareth didn't respond right away, completely thrown by her question. What had possessed her to ask that? What could he even say? There was no way he was ever letting her go. Never. And yet, that wasn't the thought that flared his passion. In that moment, all he could hear, all he could think about, was the voice telling him that this is what will make her happy. That he could grant her this. That she was asking something of him. He could make her happy. He took too long to answer, however, as she darted her eyes away and started shaking her head furiously, smiling down to the floor in shame.

"I-nevermind. I don't know why I just said that. Nevermind. Forget I brought it up. It was stupid. Good night." She said, and turned to walk back through the door. Jareth felt himself lurch from his chair.

"Sarah, wait." He called out, and felt his chest rise when she pressed on.

He was up and on her in a second. His hand thrust out, taking hold of her wrist and jerking her back around. She gasped, and glared confusedly into his eyes, before trying to jerk her arm away from him.

"Do not walk away from me." He commanded, his voice low and rumbling. Sarah's scowl intensified, and she opened her mouth to protest, when his grip loosened tremendously. "Will this make you happy?" He asked, suddenly, trying to get a word in before she started screaming at him to let go of her. It seemed to work, as she stopped her flustering and flickered her eyes out and over him. Her mouth gaped open, but she didn't say anything. Her silence made him anxious for some reason, as if he were desperate for her acceptance. It was her request, but it was _he _who wanted this. He wanted to give her this, badly. It didn't matter what it was, it didn't matter what she wanted, as long as she wanted it of _him_, he would give it to her. If it meant that he could keep her, if it meant he could make her happy, he would give her anything she asked for. "Sarah, I can't... you know I can't... *hard exhale* I've waited too long to have you. I've waited so long to see you again. You are mine and I will not let you go. I can't- I don't know. Not today, not tomorrow, but- if this will make you happy...I will...I will promise it to you. One day...You will see them again." He spoke fast, and wavering, completely out of his element. This was the most important thing, one of the only things, she'd ever asked of him. And he needed to give it to her. He needed her to accept it from him. If only she would smile.

He waited, his hand still clamped around her wrist, his eyes burning her just as fiercly as hers once were. He waited, doing nothing when she frowned, and pulled her arm away. She angled her body away from him, and glanced down to the floor as she thought. When she looked back to him, he saw concern on her face, but he had no idea why.

"Thank you, Jareth." She said, and turned to walk away. He drew his brow on her, not fathoming her reaction. Her dismissal confused him. Hadn't he just given her what she wanted? He reached out for her again, but it was like she was prepared this time, and turned just as his hand took hold of her.

"What's wrong? Aren't you happy?" He asked, sounding desperate for the first time since she'd known him.

Her lips twitched, and she shrugged, just slightly. She looked up to him, with those wide beaming eyes of hers, and reached out to grasp his arm. His eyes darted to her hand on his bicep in a flash, confused as she gently caressed him with her thumb, before lowering her arm back down to her side.

"Maybe tomorrow." She said, and for the third and final time, she turned and walked away from him, lost somewhere within the darkness, leaving him wondering what in the world had just happened.


	28. Rhetoric

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While unbeknown to her, Sarah has succeeded in obtaining the one thing the Goblin King has desired for hundreds of years -power over the Labyrinth. After being hidden for years from his diabolical wrath, Sarah finds herself alone and vulnerable as Jareth's dark desires are finally aloud to rear their ugly heads. As always, the only question is, are things really as they seem?

Chapter 11, Rhetoric

Sarah sighed and rolled onto her stomach. She laid there for a moment, sunken into the plush linen of her bed, before snapping her eyes open in a sudden glare as she heard the unwelcome sound of a door clicking shut. She tried not to groan as she glared at the wall. She was surrounded up to her nose by sheets and blankets, and thought that maybe, just maybe, she might be able to snake her way far enough down the bed to hide herself completely. She heard footsteps next, and briefly wondered if she were starting to develop her own Jareth-radar and thanked it for waking her just in time.

She groaned again and screwed her eyes shut, smothering her pillow as she buried her face in it. _Just five more minutes..._

"Mmmmm what are you doing here?" she growled, tossing herself amidst the knot of her blankets. She didn't look at him, but could sense him nearby. She wondered what kind of expression her comment had twisted his face into.

Jareth slowed at the sound of Sarah's voice, almost wary. She'd left on such a strange note last night, he wasn't sure what this morning would be like. Uncertainty was not a sea he waded often. He narrowed his eyes when she continued to groan and started tossing about. For a moment, he wondered if she were actually sleeping. He stepped up to the bed and leaned against the end post. She stopped her tossing then, laying fixed and rigid on her stomach, as if waiting for him to pounce. For a moment, he was highly considering it. But he merely resided to watch her instead, and it seemed his silence only irritated her, as she then huffed so dramatically he could see her torso lift itself up off the bed. She leaned up on her forearms, and turned back to glare at him.

He couldn't stop the flash of a smirk that stole his lips just then. Her hair was a mess, tangled and humming with static; and her eyes and lips were swollen as if she'd had a very rough night's sleep. There was a rouge to her cheeks, one final touch that only added to the interesting -if not somewhat fervid- image of her groggy morning state. His expression twitched in an effort to mask his amusement; for behind all her tangle, she was still glaring at him.

"It's morning. I came to wake you. I thought you would have caught on by now?" he informed, in as plain a manner as possible. He'd folded his arms over his chest, finding the gesture necessary to maintain his neutral facade. She rolled her eyes and groaned again, glaring away from him this time.

"Do you have any idea what time it is?" she asked, rhetorically. Jareth's wry gaze joined hers at the clock.

"Seven-thirty," he answered, and as soon as the words were uttered, her arms gave out and she flopped back down to the bed.

"Exactly. Seven-thirty. It's way too early. I don't have to meet with Roldan till ten-thirty," she murmured into her pillow. Jareth almost huffed at her, his smirk now free to reveal itself now that she was no longer staring daggers at him. Something about her seemed very intriguing this morning. He leaned away from the post and took a few more steps to sit on the edge of the bed, carefully avoiding several pillows, he'd noted, that were thrown about the floor.

"I know. I thought we might have breakfast together," he said.

"The whole point of bartering with Roldan was so that I could actually sleep in."

"It'd be a crime to waste such a nice day by sleeping."

She leaned up at that, turning back to glare at him again.

"I thought you didn't eat breakfast," she retorted, accusingly. Jareth rose an eyebrow at her.

"Alright, I merely wish to join your company. Does that suit you better?" he corrected, sardonically, with a cheeky little sneer to boot. He didn't mind her attitude. For some reason, he was having a blast.

"No," she said, and threw herself into the bed. "I'm tired. I want to sleep," she grumbled, and it was then that Jareth realized she wasn't weighing the enjoyment of breakfast over his company, but instead was just being plain cranky. He found it liberating. Could this be the first morning she wasn't immediately disgusted by, very precisely, _him_?

Sarah grumbled to herself and her pillow. She was so tired. All she wanted to do was close her eyes for just a couple more hours. It was rather late when she'd left Jareth's room the previous night, and had been up until the wee hours of morning trying to finish all of Roldan's readings. How did he expect her to read all that in one night anyway? Aside from the outdated language, it was all hand written. For every sentence she understood, there were three paragraphs she had to comb through at least ten times over. But she'd managed to finish. And now it was her time to relax. She was too exhausted to be angry with Jareth, and actually, truth be told, she wasn't angry with his presence at all. She just wanted some shut eye. Maybe she should ask him to come back later...

"Alright, if that's what you really want," she heard him say, and flexed one of her ears in his direction. She couldn't see him, but had a clear mental image of the way he was staring at her. There was something too calm about the way he'd said that.

"But let me guess, you're not going to leave?"

"No."

She rolled over, brushing the hair away from her face. Her eyesight was fuzzy, so it took her a minute to actually see him.

"I don't know which I find creepier: that you like to watch me sleep, or that you like to watch me eat," she said and pulled the covers up over her face. Jareth's smirk grew a little more. Something was definitely different about her today. While her words were annoyed, he sensed none of the volatile wall she'd put up against him every other morning.

"Are you feeling alright?" he asked. She huffed, the small gust of air puffing the blanket over her face like a mini parachute.

"No. I'm exhausted. Please, just one more hour. I'll have breakfast with you then," she tried to compromise, not knowing, nor really caring what his answer would be. Her eyelids felt so heavy. She could feel herself start to drift off...

"Like I said, you're free to go back to sleep. But I'm not leaving."

"Why not?"

"Because we both have rather busy and conflicting schedules. This is the only time I'm guaranteed to see you."

She groaned at him and rolled onto her side.

"I'm not sleeping with you sitting at the end of my bed," she murmured.

"Either you join me at the table, or I'll join you in there," he said, as if warning her. She rolled her head and cocooned herself into a ball of fabric. For some reason, his threat held almost no impact on her.

"Urrrghhhh, fine," she snarled, and sat up, bundle of blanket in tow. She hunched her shoulders and glared at him, though his returning stare was that of unaffected. Her eyes flickered over him, something about his appearance having stood out to her, but she wasn't sure what. He smirked at her, and leaned over the bed, smoothing away the tangles from her face, and was surprised when she didn't move against him in the slightest. Was it him or was she acting more confident? Had Liana been by recently? Maybe it was just her morning stupor.

"I think you could use some coffee," he said, and moved off the bed. Sarah's brow rose. Coffee? Coffee?! Good God, she'd forgotten all about coffee. Her widened eyes followed him as he moved, aware of the new found ease in his strut. But that wasn't the thing that had stood out to her. What was different about him? She couldn't put a finger on it. She sighed one final time, and uncoiled herself from the comforter.

She joined Jareth at the dining table, plopping into her seat with the grace of a lead weight. He cast an eye down at her, but said nothing. She paid his silent scolding no mind, and leaned out over the table, resting her jaw on the heel of her hand as she rung the tiny bell. She peered up to Jareth then, who was still giving her a dangerous eye.

"What? You don't eat breakfast, remember?" she said, and slouched back in her chair. Jareth rolled his eyes.

"I knew your manners were lacking, but am I to assume they are nonexistent in the morning?" he asked, condescendingly.

"Yes," she answered, pouting, and stared at the table until her food came.

It was safe to say that Sarah felt very different this morning. She wasn't anxious like she had been. She wasn't wary, or even cautious of Jareth. Maybe she really was just that groggy, but this morning, she really couldn't care less that Jareth had come to see her. In fact, she had started to expect it, and that meant that in a way she was becoming fine with it -or used to it at least. Maybe it was because Jareth was starting to become less of an unpredictable monster to her. He hadn't flipped switches in a few days. Perhaps he was starting to level out, just as she? Were their natures compromising? Or maybe nothing had changed. Maybe he was just as unpredictable as ever, and she simply had yet to push him passed his limit. Then she remembered his words regarding punishment -that should she misbehave she would be reprimanded, and should she behave she would be rewarded. Was that it? Was this calm and cheerful disposition her a reward for not behaving poorly? What would happen if she did something he deemed bad? Break her wrist again and then move on like it never happened? ...Then he would be cheery again?

Suddenly, it no longer felt like she was enjoying the simplicity of her morning coffee, but rather was sneaking scraps from a sleeping lion. Her thoughts groaned, asking her why she had to question a good thing. Things between her and Jareth were relatively pleasant now. He was being nice, she was getting away with being mouthy, why torture herself with hypotheticals? While she wondered where the line of Jareth's anger was now drawn, if it had changed at all, she knew better than to consciously test it. She rubbed a hand down her face and looked up to Jareth, not surprised to find him already watching her.

"What?" she asked- but before he could answer, both were distracted a door opening to let a waiter Goblin scuttle in, bearing Sarah's breakfast. She called out her thanks as it dashed away, and pouted at the door with her failure. She turned back to Jareth, who seemed to be curious as to whatever lurked beneath the lid to her tray. "How come the Goblins get so freaked out whenever I try to thank them?" she asked. Jareth rose an eyebrow at her, as if distracted with something else.

"That is because your acknowledgement offends them," he stated. Sarah scrunched her brow.

"What? Why would they be offended that I'm thanking them?"

"Because their job is to serve without disruption. When you acknowledge their presence, it signals that they have failed to serve you without interrupting the situation. The more you try to interact with them, the more frustrated and _freaked out_ they will be," he explained. Sarah's puzzled gaze turned towards the table.

"That doesn't make sense to me," she mumbled.

"It's not complicated. If you want to show your gratitude, simply ignore their very existence." He leaned back as he spoke, his body becoming lax and languid. Her contemplative eyes flickered up to him, reacting to his movement. That was when she figured it out -what was so different about him -it was his clothes. He was wearing a very thin white shirt today -and that was it- no vest or jacket or gloves or accessories. Just a shirt. And a baggy one at that. The buttons on his cuffs were undone, leaving the sleeves wide and billowing. She wondered why he was so underdressed.

"Hmm...strange," she murmured to herself, pulling her mind away from his attire, and turned her attention to her food instead, though much too aware of Jareth's reaction once she removed the lid.

"What is that?" he asked, sounding very much intrigued and, dare she say, maybe even a little bit excited. She peered up to him with a smirk; his expression was priceless.

"Waffles. What, haven't you ever had waffles?" she asked, mockingly. Jareth seemed to know so much about certain aspects of the Aboveground, and yet be completely baffled by others. Surely he knew what waffles were?

"Um, no," he said. She wanted to snicker at the hesitance in his voice. Instead, however, she merely began loading up her plate. She didn't ask, but with a sly little smile, began loading up one for him as well.

"Here, you look like you want it," she said, and slid him a plate. Ironically, Sarah found it was she who was now watching him eat, simply because it was so damn amusing. She'd never seen him look so out of place. "Do you want any syrup?" she asked.

"If that is how it is prepared," he answered, and secretly reveled in the smile he'd caused to appear on her face. She shook her head, her eyelids still heavy, and poured some over his plate.

"You said something about coffee?" she quirked, not pausing before digging into her food. Jareth snapped his fingers and a steaming pot appeared. "Thanks," she said, as he poured and handed her a cup.

They were silent after that, but Jareth had never been more attentive. She was being so docile and -friendly. What happened? What changed? Could it have really been their conversation that leveled out her demeanor? He was both wary and curious, eager to push her limits, yet fearful that he might push too far and ruin this rather charming new demeanor of hers. He compromised by saying nothing.

"So...engagement party," Sarah projected in-between chews. Jareth rose his brow a little. She rose one of hers in return. "Were you ever planning on telling me there was going to be an engagement party?" she clarified.

"It hadn't occurred to me to tell you," he said.

"Why?"

"I hadn't thought it too important."

She pursed her lips at him.

"Well I do. ...Could you explain it to me? What will it be like, compared to the wedding?" she asked. Jareth quirked a brow at her.

"Wouldn't you rather ask Roldan that?" he countered.

"Not really. You are supposed to be my husband after all."

Jareth's eyes flickered down at that, still not able to fathom that she actually wanted to talk about their wedding at all. Maybe he had underestimated her.

"The majority of attendants will be at the celebration, whereas only a few select guests will be at the actual wedding."

Sarah seemed to perk up in her seat as he explained, or maybe it was just the coffee.

"How come?"

"Given my position, only the other seven seats of the council and their respected families will be at the wedding; though our engagement celebration will be open to the entire aristocracy." Sarah nodded at this.

"I see...So I have three weeks to learn everything, huh?" Jareth gave her more of his attention then.

"Basic behavior anyway. Think you can manage?" he asked, mockingly. She rose him a challenging eyebrow.

"Yes, actually. From what Roldan showed me yesterday, it doesn't seem all that difficult."

"We'll see," Jareth added, as he took a sip from his cup. Sarah glared a little. Did he really not have faith in her? Or was he goading her for some reason? Either way, jerk.

"Will there be Goblins at the party, or just Fae?" she asked.

"No."

"No? That doesn't answer my question."

"No, there will not be Goblins. And no, there will not be just Fae," he clarified, and locked gazes when noticing the annoyed glare she was giving him. Apparently, her patience ran thin in the AM as well. "There are a number of races that inhabit this realm, a variety of which will be in attendance." There, that seemed to sate her.

"Really? Like what?"

"I'm not your teacher. Ask Roldan."

She huffed and looked away from him, and soon started tapping her fingers against the table impatiently. Why wouldn't he just tell her things? What was the big deal? His eyes watched her vigorous little fingers like a metronome. She wasn't sure how long it was until she looked at him again.

"Can I go take a shower?" she asked.

"You don't need my permission," he said, and leaned back in his chair, thankful that her question had deterred him from his daze. She didn't respond, but merely left the table to do as she said.

He watched her as she moved about the room. It was strange -not sensing any of the trepidation he had been sensing from her every other morning. She'd always made a mad dash into the washroom as soon as possible, but now she took her time, actually making the effort to pick out her garments rather than just the first thing she saw. She stood facing into the armoire, her hands on either wing of the doors, as she leaned into it. He couldn't see her face, but his eyes scanned over the rest of her, starting with her nimble little fingers gripping the door, all the way down to her dainty little feet, currently standing on tip toe as she searched for whatever it was she was looking for. A breeze from the window swayed the skirt of her nightgown around her silhouette. He found his head tilting to one side as he examined the curve of her back as it swelled to her rear and then smoothed down her thighs. He took a deep breath, imagining how strong and succulent her body would be if it fought with him rather than against him. He could see the muscles in her calves flex as she shifted about. How shameful it was, to know that she had the power to overtake him with such a trivial gesture. He felt a shiver run up his spine, and shook his head clear of any more fantasies. By the time he looked up again, she was already staring him down, though now she looked -uncertain.

"Um...I have a question," she said, timidly. He rose his brow to her, admittedly surprised with her interjection. She took his expression as a green light, and turned back to face her closet, biting her lip anxiously as she stared at it. "Yesterday...Liana showed me all kinds of dresses and things in here. Why can't I find any of them now?" Jareth sat up a little in his seat.

"Were you looking to wear a dress today?" he asked, sounding a bit incredulous. Sarah winced, reflexively.

"Wha? No. No, I was just looking through and realized that none of the dresses Liana showed me are in here." Jareth leaned forward, as if to stand.

"Well, that would be because your closets conform to whatever you are seeking."

She drew her brow on him.

"Huh?"

"You've been fairly adamant about wearing trousers over dresses, so, if you haven't noticed yet, the closet has been filling itself to your tastes. If you should ever wish to wear something less androgynous, your dressers will provide it for you," he explained. Sarah pursed her lips and looked back to the closet. Hm, that all made sense -all the somewhat modern underthings and such. She'd been wondering about that (if Jareth had really picked all of that out for her), and was relieved to find out it had been done magically. Her thoughts went on a brief tangent then, something else coming to mind.

"Is the bathroom the same way?" she heard herself asking, and then found herself double thinking it when his expression became somewhat confused.

"The bathroom?" he repeated. Sarah's grip on the door to the armoire tightened, feeling a little awkward now. But there was no turning back.

"Yea...the...um...utilities -in the bathroom. Did they put themselves there, or did you do it?" she asked, sounding somewhat embarrassed. He regarded her shrewdly.

"Something's making you uncomfortable...so I will simply say that I had nothing to do with what ever stock you have behind that door."

While his answer should have put her at ease, it only made her blush, as he now had reason to be curious about whatever was in the bathroom. He'd always respected her privacy when she was in the bathroom, and she feared that that luxury might be threatened if he had any reason to want to venture inside. Well, at least she knew he wasn't the one who had stocked her up on tampons and razors. Speaking of which...she was s'posed to get her period soon...She'd have to keep better track of the days.

"Oh, well that's handy," she said, with an awkward false smile, and moved away from the closet.

"Anything else in need of clarification?" he asked, simply making fun of her at this point. Sarah stopped mid-stride.

"Uh, no," she piped, and then disappeared into the washroom.

She emerged right on schedule, fresh and clean and damp haired. She wondered: if the bathroom conformed to her desires, why there wasn't a hair dryer? Then she thought about electricity, and realized there were no outlets in the Underground. Hmm...

She crossed the threshold clad in more tight pants and boots. She looked over, and saw Jareth leaning out the window. A breeze was rustling his hair, and the bright morning sun illuminated his face. She tried not to pay too much attention. He turned, and rose an eyebrow at her.

"You may want to change into something else," he advised. She narrowed her eyes and looked down over herself.

"What's wrong with what I'm wearing?" she asked, mildly offended. Jareth turned, and began haphazardly rolling up his sleeves.

"Nothing. But you are rather bundled. It's going to be hot out today," he answered, and moved away from the window. Sarah scowled at the back of his head, not having the will power to find something temperature appropriate that Roldan would approve of -not that she cared for Roldan's approval, she just didn't want to deal with his attitude.

"So...you said we won't be seeing much of each other?" she quirked, trying not too sound too excited about that -while truthfully, she wasn't really sure how she felt about it. Jareth paused in his step and glanced back. His pose struck her for a moment. He had a nice backside.

"Oh, don't worry. I'll make sure we see each other whenever possible," he said, haughtily, and turned to continue his venture across the room. He traveled around the bed, and stopped in front of her vanity. She watched him anxiously. He looked down and ran a finger over the small wooden box containing her eternal flowers. "Where did you get these?" he asked.

Sarah blanched. What should she do? Could she try lying to him? What would she say? What if she told the truth? What would happen if she reminded him of her friends? She panicked in that moment, oblivious to his expectant stare. She blinked a few times, trying to formulate some kind of speech.

"A friend gave them to me," she answered.

"Of all the things to bring with you, you chose a box of flowers?"

"They were from a very close friend."

He flipped the latch and opened it.

  



	29. Rhetoric, part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While unbeknown to her, Sarah has succeeded in obtaining the one thing the Goblin King has desired for hundreds of years -power over the Labyrinth. After being hidden for years from his diabolical wrath, Sarah finds herself alone and vulnerable as Jareth's dark desires are finally aloud to rear their ugly heads. As always, the only question is, are things really as they seem?

"These are from the Underground," He stated, though more to himself than to her. She grew more worried then, the tone of his voice having told her he already knew that. He closed the box and looked up to her. "Do you know what kind of flowers these are?" he asked, and for a moment, she wondered what kind of trap he was setting.

"No."

"They're Amaranthine -quite symbolic. Whoever gave them to you must care a great deal for you," he said, and moved away from the vanity as if dismissing the entire conversation. Sarah's gaze grew wide and puzzled. What the heck was that? She stood there, on the threshold to the bathroom, dumbfounded, watching him intently as he moved to sit on the couch beside the fire place. How freaking random. And no inquisition? She thought he would have been more interested... She moved precariously to join him on the couch.

She sat on the opposite end, and began combing her fingers through the damp ends of her hair, needing something to occupy the awkward space between she and Jareth.

"So, did you sleep well? For what little of it you had?" he asked, casually sprawling out on his end of the couch. Sarah stole a peek at the clock. It was barely nine-thirty.

"Yes, actually. Like a rock. It's amazing how well one can sleep when their dreams are not being invaded," she said, snarkily. Jareth sneered at her, the first sign of deviancy all morning.

"You'd be surprised how well one could sleep if they would allow their dreams to be invaded," he retorted, sinisterly. Sarah tried not to react to it. She waited an awkward minute, before turning to him and changing the subject completely.

"So, how go the renovations in the Sulu District?" she asked, sounding so sure and confident that she knew exactly what she was talking about. The topic of business seemed to alter Jareth's demeanor away from something mischievous to a manageable casualty. He crossed an ankle over his knee as he turned to her.

"It's only been a few days. We're still in budgeting," he informed. Sarah pursed her lips and looked down in a half nod.

"Oh," was all she could say. Jareth smiled at her discomfort. She was trying to make small talk now. Wonderful. "So, you had Liana repair the city wall?" She added on, oblivious to Jareth's grin as it fell dead from his face.

"What?"

"Liana told me you had her repair the wall. She said it was faster and easier if she did it," she said. Her explanation eased him somewhat, but had still caught him off guard.

"Ah...yes," he said, slowly. He wasn't completely ready when she turned to face him, placing both hands on the seat of the couch as she leaned closer to him.

"So you talk to her often then?" she asked, with a sudden flare of energy. Jareth tensed just slightly, processing different courses of action within nanoseconds.

"When I need to."

"You see her a lot?"

"When I need to. Why so many questions?" he asked, in a small effort to turn things around on her. She eased back a bit.

"I'm just...trying to figure out who she is. Does she live in the castle?" Jareth shifted away, trying to come off as indifferent.

"I can't very well keep her out, so it doesn't really matter."

"Why can't you keep her out?"

"Because she's very pesky," he said, crinkling his nose as if joking, though very much cloaking his own dark and suspicious demeanor. She shook her head away from him.

"Why won't you just tell me who she is?" she spoke, as if proclaiming it to the heavens.

"Do you feel threatened by her?" he asked. Her expression twitched then, as if seriously contemplating his question.

"N-no," she said, and looked over to hold his gaze. "But I would still like to know who she is. It's weird. And I'm sick of not being told anything."

"As long as you feel safe, the rest shouldn't matter. You know she helps me secure the Labyrinth, and she seems to have taken a liking to you, what more do you need to know?" He was treading carefully now, conscious though unsure of how or what he should say to her. If he was smart, he would try to deter Sarah from Liana, but as things stood, he still wasn't sure if Liana was friend or foe. And she did seem to be helping Sarah as far as her acclimation went... No, he needed more insight before making any solid decisions regarding how to deal with Liana. He looked up when Sarah sighed, and sagged her shoulders as she glanced off at nothing.

Sarah rested her chin on her hand as she stared out over the scenery, feeling content to have finished her conversation with Jareth for the time being. She sighed, wondering how much longer it was until she had to go find Roldan. The more she thought about it, the more she began to dread it. While it was true she was eager to learn all she could about the Underground, she knew that such knowledge could only work to her advantage, a boring history lesson was still a boring history lesson. And after the rough introduction she'd had last night, she knew exactly what she was in for in today's lesson. Hm, maybe Jareth would write her a sick note? Ha! She couldn't believe she'd even thought that. How ludicrous. She smirked at nothing, well aware, but not ready to question her new, more sated state of mind. She felt something more than just rested. She tried to think back, recalling her rather dreary conversation with Jareth the night before.

She had no idea why she'd asked him that, had absolutely no idea where it came from. It was like it wasn't even her voice, but someone else's. But whatever the cause, it seemed to work. She'd never seen Jareth so caught off guard. Was he being serious? Did he really mean it when he'd said he'd let her see her family again? How would that even work? And when? She tried not to cling to it, knowing that, if anything, she probably wouldn't see them for a very, very long time. But, just having that hope, that possibility, it somehow made living here that much easier. True, she had uttered an edict of acceptance last night, but not even then had she felt true conviction in her words. Did his words really give her the closure she needed?

Her eyes roamed over toward the window. The sun was bright, and the landscape was warm and green. She could hear birds chirping, and other strange sounds of the outside world. It was beautiful to her. Everything, even the room around her, looked more beautiful now. She took a deep breath, reaffirming Liana's words that this world was hers for the taking. She guessed that started in about 15 minutes, in the west drawing room.

"What are you thinking about?" She twitched when she heard Jareth's voice, breaking through her daze. She flickered her eyes down and shrugged.

"Just how nice it must be outside." He was about to say something when she then looked up, her eyes gluing themselves to the clock. "Oh, wow. I gotta go," she said, quickly gathering her books and making her way to the door without another look to Jareth. She was about to reach for the handle, but was rudely cut off by Jareth beating her to it. She didn't flinch once when he flung the door open for her, his shirt brushing up against her arm.

"So eager. Such enthusiasm has me considering whether or not I should excuse you of this morning's rudeness," he said, with amusement, but she could hear some of the scold in his voice. He placed a hand at the small of her back and pushed her out into the hall -the force of which solidified her idea that he _was_ being serious. She looked up to him once the door was shut behind her, and realized just how offended he really was. His gaze was intense on hers, as if restraining some pointless lecture or disapproval for leaving without being dismissed. She began to purse her lips, his stare alone making her want to reconcile. He smirked at her struggle, and decided on something better. He reached up and clawed his hands around either side of her face, harshly, and planted a rough kiss smack on her lips. Her eyes widened, and she jerked on reflex, but he was one step ahead, and pushed her away from him so she stumbled back. "Have a fun day at school," he said, and before she could work in a glare, he was gone. She huffed, and wiped his saliva from her mouth.

"Ugh, ass," she grumbled, and no sooner headed off into the darkness of the corridor.

* * *

The time she spent with Roldan went as expected. He was his usual, grumpy self, and seemed to condescend her for every little thing. She didn't let it bother her though, having started to learn that that was just him. They went over her reading, finding it easy to slide into Roldan's teaching style. It was just like high school. _Ehh... _They started out with the history of the Underground -meaning the life and reign of King Orpus, the original High King of the Underground. From there they went through the time of his death, and what that meant for the realm. She remembered some of this from the book she'd read in Jareth's library a few days back, and actually succeeded at impressing Roldan with her random tid-bits of knowledge. She was right in thinking that the king had no heirs, and so when he died the realm was split amongst the most prominent lords and ladies under his rule; after a war here and there, this came to be known as the council of 8, which consisted of the kingdoms - Erastor, Yore (those she knew), the Plains of Jeju, Meyhaven, the Ironmey, the Isles of Masoch, the Shadow Lands, and finally, at the center of it all, the Goblin Kingdom.

Next came geography, something of which Roldan was only too glad to inform her there would be a test on later that week. They then started to go through each history of the 8 kingdoms immediately following the dissolution of the prime monarchy.

They took a break for lunch and practiced more of the same social etiquette, which was followed by more in-depth dance lessons, and finally concluded with the assignment of yet more homework. She tried not to groan. Actually, she didn't try at all. Her groans were very much apparent. Roldan scolded her, saying that such slouching and noises were unbecoming of someone of her stature. She responded by rolling her eyes.

It was almost five by the time she made it back to her room, with a new stack of books in tow. She glared with distaste as she set the mound down on an end table. _Tonight, we'll be learning about the coronation of King Ruben of Yore. And why is this important? Well, hopefully you'll figure it out when you read through chapter ten. Bah! Screw chapter ten! _She wanted to holler and whine at the dusty pile of books. She had no idea why they made her so angry, but they did. Ugh. She couldn't look at them anymore. She needed a distraction.

She stood in the center of the room, hands on hips as she surveyed it. She was alone, no Jareth or Liana in sight. _Hmm...what to do, what to do. _It was only five o-clock, she still had half the day left. She should take advantage of it before Jareth showed up. _Hmm..._

She heard chirping from the window, and caught sight of the bright rays of light beaming into her room. It reminded her of how hot she was, wearing full-length black trousers with leather boots. Jareth was right, it turned out to be a scorcher today. Maybe she should have just listened to him and changed then. She pursed her lips as she thought, and it wasn't long until something wonderful came to mind.

She walked over towards her dresser and tapped a finger against the handle before opening it. _Hm, he said it produces what ever I want... _She tried to think, very precisely, before opening the drawer, and almost hopped up and down with glee when she was met with what she had been hoping for. She looked around the room, as if her poor human vision would be able to spot any peeping Tom's lurking in the shadows. She turned back to the dresser and quickly shucked her shirt, replacing it with a workout bra and tank top. She turned to head to the armoire in search of some shorts and sneakers, and felt so victorious when she found what she wanted. She shimmied into her shorts in a flash, almost falling over as she shucked off her boots one after the other. She'd just pulled on a pair of socks, and turned to grab her shoes out of the closet, but almost flew to the moon and back when faced with the obstacle that met her.

Sarah nearly jumped out of her skin, and was sure her hair stood on end as she just barely avoided collision with Jareth as he stood, leaning with arms crossed, against her armoire. She brought a hand to her chest and doubled over slightly.

"Good God," she whispered, glaring up at him as she tried to catch her breath. "Do you have to do that?" she added in a snarl.

His smirk was unwavering, and his stance never more dominant.

"I wasn't trying to be stealthy. You were simply too focused to notice," he said, all haughty and amused. Sarah straightened, her glare easing only slightly. How long had he been there? How much had he seen? She could have sworn she just checked to see if anyone was there...

"I thought you were busy? What are you doing here?" she asked, her voice too breathy to demand. Jareth pushed himself from the dresser and took a step towards her. She took a precautionary step back.

"I just ran into Roldan. He said you were finished for the day, so I thought I would check up on you," he said, all innocent-like. Sarah didn't back down.

"Ok, so here I am. Mission accomplished," she said, and grew anxious when he cocked his head to one side, his eyes sharpening on her.

"What are you wearing?" he asked, as if just now noticing her strange apparel. She looked down over herself and shrugged nonchalantly.

"A tank top. It's hot out." His smile began to stretch.

"You look very sporty. Planning on going somewhere?" he asked, with a kind of highhandedness that made him seem like a lion about to pounce on his prey. Sarah pursed her lips and shelved her fists firmly on her hips.

"Yes, actually. I thought I might go for a run," she said. He took a small step closer at her comment.

"A run?" he repeated, quirking an eyebrow as he spoke. Sarah narrowed her eyes, holding her stance.

"Yes. You've had me cooped up in this stuffy old castle for how long now? I haven't worked out in over a week. I'm going nuts," she explained -which was the truth. She'd been thinking about what Jareth had said regarding her having pent up frustration, that was probably due to her lack of exertion. This made sense to her, though she preferred far different means of exertion than that of Jareth's. She needed a good run, something to wear her out and clear her mind. And she needed the fresh air, the open space, the sun. Yeah...this idea just kept getting better and better.

"So you were planning on just waltzing out of the castle without telling anyone?" he asked.

"You mean telling or asking?" she countered. Jareth rose her a challenging eyebrow.

"You don't need permission to exercise. Though, I would prefer it if you found the means to do so within the castle walls," he said. She wanted to stomp her foot at him.

"No way. I'm not jogging around the dark and dingy tunnels of this castle. I need fresh air. I need to be outside."

"Again, you were planning on leaving the castle grounds without telling anyone?" he repeated. Sarah's stern gaze wavered for just a second. Hm.. he did kinda have a point.

"I hadn't really gotten that far yet. If you would have allowed me to finish dressing, I probably would have tried to find you and let you know."

"Oh, well thank you for that hypothesis," he snarked. Sarah scoffed and rolled her eyes.

"Are you going to move so I can get my shoes? Or are you here to tell me I can't go?" she asked. Jareth narrowed his eyes.

"I see you're still missing your manners," he said, with some warning. Sarah crossed her arms over her chest.

"Well I'm sorry. I'm just trying to do what you and Liana keep saying and start taking advantage of whatever it is this place and my position has to offer me. I was just going for a run. I wasn't going to run away."

The stern sincerity in Sarah's statement struck Jareth in a way she didn't notice. His darkening aura faded instantly, blindsided by her first real demonstration that she _was in fact_ trying to accept her new life, to embrace it even, in whatever roundabout way. He had to blink it all away for the time being however, noticing she was still glaring at him.

"And where exactly were you planning on running?" he asked, and smirked when she blanched. Apparently, she hadn't thought of that either.

"I don't know. The Labyrinth maybe. I could get a good workout running around that thing for a few hours."

Something dark and intimidating lowered over Jareth just then, causing a shift so sudden and dramatic it became palpable to her. She thought over her words, wondering if she'd said something wrong.

"I don't want you going anywhere near the Labyrinth," he stated, his voice strong and coarse as if he were angry. Why would he be angry? She worried her eyes on him.

"Um, ok then," she said, and angled her body away from him, concerned. He saw this reaction from her, and quickly altered his own.

"It still isn't safe. And besides, you shouldn't be frolicking about the Labyrinth without an escort, and I don't have time to watch over you," he said.

She took offense to that.

"I think I managed well enough the first time, when I was bumbling about without a clue as to what I was doing."

"And you would recall all the assistance I granted you, then." She started to glare at him again.

"What assistance? You did all you could to throw me off." Her voice was growing a little louder now, but Jareth only smiled. What was so damn funny?!

"Please. If I really wanted to stop you from solving that maze you would have never even found the front door." Sarah's chest began to puff up, aggravated with the arrogant look in his eye.

"Ok, how was it that you helped me then?"

"Who do you think sent the Dwarf to escort you? Or did you forget that those friends of yours were still my subjects." He'd moved to cross his arms over his chest in a smug gesture as he looked down his nose at her. Sarah's glare only intensified.

"They helped me because they were my friends. Or did you forget that they rebelled against you." Now, all this time she had been so worried about what he would do should she bring up her friends -but, he'd been the one to bring them up, which meant he still obviously remembered them, which meant they were safe. Something was up, and she needed to figure out what.

Jareth actually laughed then, a noise that escaped as if on reflex. Its outburst made her more angry.

"Sarah...please. You really think my subjects would turn against me so easily?"

Sarah's narrowed eyes turned suspicious then...

"I don't understand. They went against you. You tried to stop us. You sent the entire guard on us for Pete's sake!" She threw her hands up in the air, exasperated, and unable to fathom just exactly what it was he was revealing to her. -What was he revealing to her? Jareth grinned like a Cheshire Cat.

"If my royal guard were really that incompetent, I would have been conquered long ago," he said, letting the silence stretch as his words sank into her psyche. He stood over her, reveling in the way she fumed before him. She was still so ignorant...he'd never thought about it, but he couldn't believe she actually thought she defeated him.

"Then what- what are you talking about? Why are you looking at me like that? You're telling me my friends were working for you the entire time? Right up till the end?" she asked, furious and confounded all at once. Jareth rolled his eyes down to the tiny wooden box on her vanity.

"Does that surprise you?" he asked, with a wickedly sardonic grin curling one end of his lips.

"But-but-"

"Did you think it coincidence that you happened to run into an ally just when you needed one? Did you ever think that maybe I told them where to go, what to do, how to act? To make sure you made it to my castle under any circumstances?"

Sarah just blinked, unable to think. How could that be true? Her friends...that would mean that all this time, her friends were lying to her, keeping this secret from her. Was that why they were never punished? Because Jareth had told them to help her? Why?!

"Why would you do that? You wanted Toby. That's how you get your Goblins."

"What?"

"Your Goblins. They're humans who you kidnapped and turned into Goblins."

This time, Jareth just blinked at her, as if not having any clue as to what she was talking about.

"And where did you hear that?" he asked. Sarah's eyes widened in disbelief.

"From the book that told me about the Labyrinth in the first place!" she shrieked. How could he not remember? What was even going on right now?! Jareth thought a moment, as if recalling some long distant memory.

"Ah, yes. That book. I almost forgot."

"You forgot? How could you forget? I thought that was how you lured people to the Underground."

"Lure you, maybe," he said. Sarah took a step back, not sure what to do.

"What are you talking about? You're saying you don't turn children into Goblins?" she asked, mortified. Jareth began shaking his head, a smile hiding within the golden locks of his hair.

"Sarah...really now. You honestly think I spend my free time stealing humans and teaching spoiled little girls important life lessons?" he asked, with laden mockery. Sarah was getting so worked up she could feel her sinuses swelling. Everything she had thought about her run, everything about Jareth and her friends, the Goblins and this entire place, it was unraveling before her very eyes. What really happened back then? What did it have to do with now?

"Then where did the book come from? Why did you have me run? Why help me?" she asked, but with a tone that was blatantly accusatory.

"I made it, for you."

"Why?" she asked, in horror. Jareth seemed to pause before answering, even looking downwards out of the corner of his eye as he thought of a response.

"Because I was bored."

Sarah's horrified glare turned into a frown, and she could actually feel the fight draining from her body. Why was she so shocked by this? Why was she so...so _hurt_ by it?

"You were bored?" she asked, her voice raising about three octaves with sheer outrage. Jareth didn't seem to understand.

"Initially. You intrigued me. When you wished your brother away...what can I say? I just fell head over heels," he said, with a wide sneer and a twinkle in his eye. She took his words for volatile sarcasm, and did all she could to maintain her composure. "So, I bargained with you, played a little game. And yes, I watched over you, made sure you were safe, helped along as best I could. I wanted to see you win, or at least I wanted to see you try."

"What would have happened if I lost? What would have happened to Toby?" she asked. Jareth looked at her, and rose his brow as he rolled his eyes dismissively.

"You wouldn't have. I made sure of it."

"What about Toby!"

"I told you, it was never about the boy. I had my sights set solely on you," he said, and took the one final step that would close the gap between them. She was looking away from him, so he placed his hands on either side of her face and angled her back to him, making sure he locked into her gaze. "Why are you so upset? One would think this knowledge would put you at ease. I never planned to keep your brother, and I certainly never planned on turning him into a Goblin."

She looked into his eyes, saw their sincerity, and combined with the feel of his bare hands against her cheeks, began to settle down.

"Why then? What were you trying to accomplish by putting me through all that?" she asked, desperately. Jareth cocked his head to one side, as if the answer to that question were so obvious it didn't require being said -while the truth of the matter was far different. His thoughts muttered _-I needed you to win. I needed to fool her, so I could kill you and take it back_\- but what came out was,

"You know what I wanted."

Sarah's eyes darted away, overwhelmed by the intensity of his. She couldn't help it, but as soon as he spoke the memory of the Escher room shot to the forefront of her mind. Yes...she knew what he wanted. But, he let her go...

"Then how was I able to leave?" she asked. Jareth's fingers re-tensed against her face, but she saw no significance to this.

"Because the magic of our bargain allowed you the freedom to leave, something I overlooked," he said, and lied -partially. The only reason Sarah was allowed to leave that night was because Jareth had decided, in that last minute, not to kill her; and only through her refusal was Liana able to whisk her away from him, to keep her hidden for years. The memory was still fresh in his mind, and an unpleasant one at that. He'd made such a mistake that night. But he would correct it now, and in the time to come. He had to.

"And my friends?" she asked, now confident that they were not in mortal danger.

"I had them keep in contact with you, since I was not able to approach you myself."

She pulled away from him then, disgusted.

"So they lied to me? All these years, they were secretly spying for you?" she asked, appalled. Jareth saw just how upset she was, and thought this to be a good opportunity to win some favor.

"No," he stated, and reached out for her box of flowers, opening it to her. "These flowers hold great significance. They never die, never wilt. They are only given to those we cherish most, as a symbol of undying love and friendship. They would not have given them to you should the sentiment not have been true."

Sarah winced and shook her head.

"But they lied to me. How do I know- ...the whole time they were reporting back to you," she said. Jareth's brow drew tight as he set the box back in it's place.

"No...actually, they weren't reporting back to me," he murmured, to himself it seemed.

"What?"


	30. Rhetoric, part 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While unbeknown to her, Sarah has succeeded in obtaining the one thing the Goblin King has desired for hundreds of years -power over the Labyrinth. After being hidden for years from his diabolical wrath, Sarah finds herself alone and vulnerable as Jareth's dark desires are finally aloud to rear their ugly heads. As always, the only question is, are things really as they seem?

"Your...protection, that you garnered from our bargain...somehow stretched to them as well. I could not approach them either. So, I was forced to settle with the knowledge that they were at least present in your life, keeping your belief strong, making sure you were safe," his voice trailed off as he spoke -everything he said was true. He may have put a spin on it and left out some key details, but what he had said was true. She didn't need to know of his attempt to hunt them all down once she'd left, nor of his attempt to hunt her down as well... He shied away from those thoughts, remembering that the ward was down from them as well -but, he didn't really care. Sarah was back and finally his. The creatures didn't matter. They'd done their job, so to speak. He brought his attention back to Sarah to find her still looking flighty and upset. "Sarah-" he began to say, but was cut off when she moved passed briskly, heading straight for the armoire. She didn't look at him, focusing intently on sliding on her shoes.

"I need to go. I need to run. To just -clear my head or something," she looked up to him then with wide, frustrated eyes. "Please."

Jareth narrowed his eyes, not quite sure why she was still upset.

"You're still upset."

"Yes, I'm upset. You just told me everything I thought I knew about my -our- past was a lie, that my friends were keeping a huge secret from me all these years. So yes, I am very upset. Now please, let me go," she pleaded. What she didn't tell him, however, was the main reason she was upset, that being, that the possibly of contacting her friends was maybe the only plausible means of her ever escaping -if she ever had the courage to try. But now, knowing they were still loyal to Jareth- friendship or not, if they were still working for him, why would they try to help her get away? No, they would want her to stay. She tried to keep her emotions under control as she forced on her shoes.

"If it's any consolation, they were forbidden to speak of any of it, under penalty of death."

"It isn't," she answered, and moved away from him as if about to leave the room. He caught her by the wrist.

"And where are you off to? I don't think we decided on a destination for you, yet."

She stopped and turned back around.

"I don't want to run in the castle. And I won't go near the Labyrinth if it isn't safe. I'll run a couple blocks around the city-"

"That will not be appropriate," Jareth interjected.

"Why not?"

"I can't have the Queen prancing around, unattended, dressed like that," he said. Sarah glared, unwittingly responding perfectly to Jareth's goading. Anger over something trivial would distract her from her turmoil -he gave himself a mental pat on the back.

"Dressed like what exactly? I thought you didn't care about the way I dressed?" she asked, going on the offensive, and tried pulling her wrist away from him -she failed. His grip tightened on her, and jerked her so she stumbled towards him.

"I don't, as long as you are decently covered."

"What about me isn't decently covered?"

"Nothing actually, but...whatever it is you're wearing, it isn't appropriate to be seen in, in the capital square of all places. You're a Queen, you have an image to present to the public."

"Ok, short shorts are bad for PR, got it. So, do you have any other ideas?" she asked, rather hastily. Jareth smirked, and let her go just as the world changed.

* * *

Sarah blinked, and stepped about in a circle as she gazed at her new surroundings. She brought her now free hand up to her chest, and was wringing the other around her wrist, but was otherwise unaware of any pain his grip may have caused her.

She marveled in the open air. She had no idea where they were, but the ground was dusty and the sky was a bright blue, with no trace of cloud in sight. She stepped further away from Jareth and looked around some more. They were in a type of alley, with high stone walls lining the path they were on for miles. It reminded her of the first part of the Labyrinth. This place however, was in much better upkeep. She turned her head, her ears having caught the noises of hustle and bustle just on the other side of the wall. Finally, she turned back to Jareth, her melancholy wiped away as if it were never there.

"Where are we?" she asked, a bright beaming smile lighting up her face. She could hear birds flying over head, and felt a light breeze brush against her face. Jareth shifted, and rolled his sleeves up passed his elbows. It was much hotter out here than in the castle.

"This is a merchant alley separating the castle from the city," he informed, and pointed down the path. "This pathway spans around the entire castle grounds. Should be plenty enough space for you to -exert- yourself."

Sarah turned and looked down both sides of the path. This was great, simply marvelous.

"So..the city is on the other side of the wall?"

"Yes. But they can't see you, and you can't see them," he said, and just as he finished the last word, he turned, glancing back as something that registered to Sarah as marching began to echo from around a corner. A moment later, a small battalion of guards appeared. Sarah looked on in confusion.

"What are they for?" she asked.

"This may be safer, but you still need surveillance, and I have work to get back to."

"Wait- you mean they have to follow me around?" she asked, pointing a nasty finger at the masked guard.

"That is generally how one is protected," he said, crossing his arms over his chest. A breeze picked up then, blowing his hair off to one side, as well as the collar of his shirt. She kept her eyes off of him.

"You seriously expect me to run around with these things trailing alongside me?" she asked.

"Is that repulsion I hear in your voice? Come now, I thought you adored my subjects," he said, teasingly. Sarah tried not to wince.

"No, it's not that. It's just extremely awkward to try to have a serious work out with a bunch of Goblins in chain-male riding those -things- alongside me. Please, I'll be fine on my own. I don't need them."

Jareth rose a deadly eyebrow at her, as if her words proposed some grand challenge. She saw this, and took half a step back.

"Perhaps we can come to some kind of compromise, then," he said, and stepped towards her, hands on hips. She tried not to notice the way the sun made his skin glow. She looked down, away from his chest, but it didn't help. Now her eyes were glued to his bare forearms, a part of him she'd never seen. She could see the veins in his hands and wrists, and the light blonde hair that dusted his forearms. For a moment, she even caught herself counting his beauty-marks.

"What kind of compromise?" she asked, warily, knowing what happened the last time she made a deal with Jareth. His chest rose as he took in a breath, something that Sarah was all too aware of.

"How about this: if we can come to an agreement, I will send the guard into the shadows, to watch over you from somewhere you can't see. That way you won't be bothered or made to feel awkward. Also," He added on, his voice darkening into a sinuous drawl. She knew that tone. She knew that look, that creeping grin. She started to draw her brow in worry, and rose her arms to protect herself. He was very, very close all of the sudden. "If you comply with the terms set, I will leave you alone. I will not bother you once, and you may stay out as long as you wish. How does that sound?" he asked, his tone light and gentle as if appeasing a child. Sarah's eyes flickered out and over him. His stance radiated something dangerous.

"What do you want?" she asked, timidly. His smile widened.

"A kiss."

* * *

"A what?" Sarah asked, confounded. That was one of the last things she expected him to say. It was far too simple, and far too...PG. She took a step away from him.

"You heard me. I want you to kiss me," he repeated, his chest starting to vibrate as he laughed to himself. Her colorful reaction was as expected. She looked him up and down again, on edge for the secret loophole she knew was lurking just around the corner.

"Just a kiss? Why?" she asked, suspiciously offensive.

"Because. Do you want me to ask for something more?" he retorted. Sarah pursed her lips at him. Something wasn't right. There had to be a catch.

"No...you say you'll send the guards away and leave me alone as long as I want? What's the catch?" she asked. He shook his head.

"No catch." She narrowed her eyes on his smile.

"You've kissed me before, what makes this one worth bargaining over?" he rose an eyebrow at how thorough she was being. Hm, maybe she was learning.

"I have kissed you. But that's not what I'm asking for. I want _you_ to kiss _me_."

Sarah narrowed her eyes again, finally understanding why this decision would be difficult. He was right. He'd mouth raped her plenty of times. But she'd never been the one to kiss _him_. Could she do it? Did she even want to? Hell no. Not really. Maybe. Oh, shhhh. Damn it.

She fisted her hands at her sides, suffering a huge affliction from such a simple request. And Jareth knew it. That's why he was smiling at her. Arrogant bastard. She glared up to him.

"You want me to kiss you? That's it? Fine," she snapped, and moved as if to give him a peck on the cheek. He halted her mid-step.

"Ah-ah-ah, no, Sarah. That's _not_ it. You have to give me a real kiss, and you have to mean it," he clarified, putting her back on her feet.

Sarah glared again. Damn. What to do. What to do. She huffed through her nose with frustration. It was so simple, yet infinitely complicated. _Just one kiss. You can do it. Suck it up._ She puffed up her chest, then exhaled slowly, knowing her decision was inevitably already made. She rose her eyes up to his again.

"I won't mean it," she stated. Jareth rose an eyebrow.

"Well then, I suggest you call upon some of those acting skills of yours and _make_ me believe it."

Sarah's hands were fisted so hard her knuckles were turning white, and she bit her lip as she held her stand off against Jareth's smug grin. She flickered her eyes down the front of him, the open V of his chest at eye level, and gulped.

She looked over, her mannerism nervous and antsy, and saw that the battalion of Goblins were still just standing there, waiting. She looked back to Jareth, who was still patiently waiting for her to make a move. She took half a step forward, but caught herself. He was standing so tall and rigid, his hands firmly placed on his hips and his nose angled down at her. It was obvious he wasn't going to make this easy for her. His grin let her know he intended to let her do all the work and wasn't about to help her in the slightest. She could feel the Goblins eyes on her, their humble expectance. Could this be any more awkward? Ugh, he was doing it on purpose. She wanted to growl.

She lowered her eyes to the ground, contemplating how best to go about this. She exhaled, and tried to clear her mind. He knew that she wouldn't mean it. She knew that he knew. Which meant she really did need to call upon her acting skills if she wanted to get it right the first time, knowing that if she didn't give it her all, he would laugh and, in some snide manner, tell her it wasn't good enough and had to try again. She tried to think of all her kissing scenes from drama club, as well as any other behavioral cues she knew would help. She needed this to be good.

She started by running her tongue over her lower lip, with both anxiety and -enticement. _All he wants is a kiss. You can do this Sarah. Stop being nervous, he could have asked for something far worse. Nervous? Ha! I'm not nervous! Why would I be nervous about kissing Jareth? After the things he's done to me? Psh, please. This is the one thing I actually do have experience in..._

Her thoughts tried their best to reassure her, but she could feel her spine turning to jell-o as she tried to think of how exactly she was going to convince him that she wasn't completely repulsed by the situation. That was when a voice began resonating from the darkest shadows of her mind, whispering that the answer which would quell all her turmoil resided in the fact that she was not nearly half as repulsed by the situation as she wanted to be.

She let out another breath, and cleared her mind of thought. It was all or nothing, now or never.

She rose her hands to rest on the collar of his shirt, precariously exploring and testing the contours of his clavicles beneath the thin material. Her touch was light and tentative, but full of some eager sense of promise. She kept her head lowered, locked onto his sternum, but she could feel his gaze on her, taunting her with his patience. She gripped the frill of his neckline, and ran one of her thumbs along the bare skin of his chest. She'd never touched him there before. She could feel the shallow beat of his heart, marking on the slow and neutral pulse it set. She swallowed the rock in her throat when she looked up to him, ignoring the warm priggishness of his stare on her by closing her eyes and standing up on her tip toes, as she pressed her lips to his.

At first, she felt nothing. She thought she would be wincing, or find her body stiff and unresponsive, but found nothing of the sort. She felt her lips press against his, felt the softness of his skin -and thought nothing of it. She stood there, unconscious to time or space, and used it as an opportunity to think ahead. She pressed some of her weight into her hands splayed flat against his chest, pushing herself up a little taller.

They stood as still as a photograph, with nothing but the wind telling otherwise. It seemed as if seconds slowed, but she knew it was just in her head. She waited for something, any kind of reaction or signal from him, but was granted nothing. He just stood there, like a statue, full of challenge and domineering pomposity -his body language alone letting her know she wasn't fooling him in the slightest.

After a moment, she began to lower off her toes, defeated, but paused once their lips parted. Her heart seemed to quicken then, as if suffering the loss of its lifeline. She fluttered her eyes a bit, as if caught in a struggle. She didn't know why, didn't have the chance to think about it, but for some reason, she closed her eyes again, furrowing her brow as she pressed her lips up to his once more.

There was more of a force to her touch this time, more confident and demanding -something less chaste. She inhaled through her nose and maneuvered her lips against his. They parted somewhat, and she could taste him on her tongue. And for as many other times as he'd kissed her, as many other times that she'd tasted his lips, there was something different about this moment, something inaugural that poised its curious head within her psyche. But she didn't think of it then. She simply couldn't.

She tightened her grip on his shirt just a little more, helping to ensure her balance. She held that pose, waiting, or simply enduring. As the awkward seconds began to stretch, she wondered what his expression was like, wondered what the Goblins were thinking, wondered if her efforts were in vain. But then something -unexpected- happened.

Something about Jareth's posture shifted just then, a small blip within his spectrum of tension. He seemed to relax and tense further at the same time. He lowered his head a little, alleviating some of the stress on her toes, and though she couldn't see, his eyes slowly began to close. The tension in his body began to waver, hesitant, as if conflicted. It was a subtle change, so subtle it almost went unnoticed; but as Sarah lowered from her tip-toes, she couldn't help but be aware of the fact that her lips were in fact pulling Jareth down with her.

His lips gained a small flare of life and pressed against hers. She inhaled sharply through her nose and deepened her kiss, feeling suddenly victorious when their tongues met and curled around one another. They moved slowly, Sarah's movements dominantly coaxing Jareth's. It was a strange power play, but one that felt surprisingly liberating to her. He wasn't overtaking her, wasn't being vicious or controlling. She had the power to pull away, to end it all at her whim. His lips were soft and his tongue was flippant in its response, holding no trace of scheme or even thought for that matter.

He shifted again, and in an averse contention of wills, slowly rose his hand to lightly grasp the side of her face. She felt the tips of his fingers against her skin, and brought a hand from his chest to lightly encircle his wrist. His efforts became marginally more forceful then, kissing her more deeply with slow, sensual licks. She gave a surprise murmur when he took a small step forward, causing her to retreat, but effectively pushed their faces even closer. The Goblins started fidgeting, glancing away awkwardly from the scene before them. They'd never seen the King so openly affectionate with another. Their fists gripped their spears and shields as they teetered from foot to foot. And although they were each wearing helmets, you didn't need to see their faces to know each and every one of them were blushing feverishly.

Jareth...wasn't sure what had happened, wasn't sure when or how the change had occurred, but in that moment he couldn't have cared less. He thought putting her in such a position would be amusing, and indeed it was. But there was just something about her trepidation, something about the way her lips twitched against his, about the feel of her breath so close to him. He knew she was playing a role, but a part of him wanted this moment. He wanted to know what it felt like, and even as a weak facade it was not disappointing. He could feel his thoughts casting themselves out to sea, leaving his mind hollow. It was this hollowness that consumed him, that drew him towards her. He relished in the feel, in the taste of her. This was all he wanted. All he wanted was _this _moment -for her to come to him, for her to yield to him. He was about to lose himself completely when he felt Sarah begin to shift.

She lowered herself until she stood flat footed, and slowly brought both her hands back to her sides. She pulled away from him, moving so slowly and with such tenderness that he had to stop himself from pursuing those stray lips of hers and claiming them once again. He felt her breath against him, and his head had angled down in such a way that when he opened his eyes. He was met with the image of her parted lips. His vision was almost hazy, and his hand against her cheek nearly tingled with the bliss of his fancy. He rose his eyes to hers, and was struck so severely that he actually felt the wind being knocked out of him.

She was staring at him, wide-eyed and intent, already waiting for him to look up at her. Her lips were parted, her cheeks were flushed and her breathing was quick, but it was her eyes that gave it all away. There was such a strict ferocity in them, burning into him, shredding him as her gaze completely crushed any kind of phantasm he thought they may have been in. Her gaze was cold and calculated, holding no trace of the sublime reverence that had consumed him so. His brow drew tight and he blinked repeatedly, as if trying to shake himself of the mirage, but it was no use. His eyes continued to narrow, until they settled into a look of pained discomfort as he fully registered the disillusionment of the situation. She was making a point.

She pursed her lips and waited for his verdict.

Jareth opened his mouth slightly as if to speak, but only continued to blink in disconcertion. His hand flexed against her cheek, but her skin no longer felt as warm and welcoming as it had. He stared into her eyes, saw their conviction, and -strangely enough- couldn't help but smile. How foolish of him. How foolish that he should lose his head, if only for a moment. How asinine to have even entertained the idea of a consensual joy let alone to believe it may have actually happened. They were no where near such a moment. She'd accepted his challenge, and a challenge was all that it was. She knew that. She knew that the entire time. ...But, so did he. His smile curled on one side as he regarded her. She had played her part well. Once again, she had won a game he intended to lose. He lightly ran his fingers through her hair, and took some satisfaction in the flicker of reaction that she was unable to keep concealed behind her stone composure. His lips thinned to something humble, and his eyes softened into an expression that was as bitter as it was sweet. He ran his thumb down her jaw.

"Hm, well done," he said, and before Sarah could react to the wayward sense of both awe and desolation in his voice did he, and the rest of the Goblins, vanish.

* * *

Sarah wobbled back on her heel, her wide bemused eyes scanning the now vacant lot of her surroundings. _Well that was...unexpected. He left? Just like that? He actually kept his word? No tricks? _She lowered her eyes for a moment. Of course, Jareth had always kept his word in things like this... She looked up, feeling anxious and out of place. The Goblins were gone. There wasn't a trace of any living being as far as she could see. She was alone. She continued to blink absently at the scenery, focusing her gaze at the open air as if they were all still there but merely invisible. A breeze rustled her hair, bringing her back to the moment. She really won, didn't she? Finally! She fooled the Goblin King! Hurrah! Her conscience was jumping up and down in victory; yet, there was something unsettling about the situation that kept that reaction from surfacing. Instead, she found herself frowning and her thoughts distant. She subconsciously rose a hand to her cheek, marking on the way it still tingled from his touch.

She sighed and shook her head, trying to rid her mind of the image of Jareth's expression when he'd pulled away from her. For a moment...he looked so happy. And for some reason that disturbed her. She closed her eyes and scowled, pouting to herself as she forced the vision away, while simultaneously drawing her hair up into a pony tail. Too many things had been pressing on her mind these past few days, too many opposing things. She needed a run, a long hard run; something to clear her head. She looked to the sky when her hair was secure, tuning in to the sounds of the city just beyond the wall. Then she rose an arm and started to stretch.

  



	31. Rhetoric, part 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While unbeknown to her, Sarah has succeeded in obtaining the one thing the Goblin King has desired for hundreds of years -power over the Labyrinth. After being hidden for years from his diabolical wrath, Sarah finds herself alone and vulnerable as Jareth's dark desires are finally aloud to rear their ugly heads. As always, the only question is, are things really as they seem?

Jareth stood facing the poorly lit corridor, caught mid-step by an ever present affliction. He closed his eyes and looked upward as he sighed, shutting it all out, before carrying on like the interruption had never happened. He sighed harder when his eyes opened, his expression rigid and fierce, his stride becoming more aggressive as he stalked down the hall. He rounded a corner, and met Roldan just as he was exiting a room.

"Oh, good. I was about to set out for you," Roldan said, taking care to shut the door behind him quietly as he approached the King. Jareth's stride refused to falter. This didn't seem to phase Roldan, who merely skipped forward to match the his pace. "I've been working with Jorunn on finalizing the renovations for the Sulu District. I believe they're at an adequate stage for you to look them over," he started in, ruffling through said documents as he spoke. He was walking beside Jareth, but hadn't looked up to notice the poignant disinterest plainly wrought across his face.

Jareth brought his hands to clasp behind his back.

"I trust you're handling the inconsistencies with this quarter's quota, as well?" Jareth interjected, the sharpness of his tongue well evident through his words. Roldan's brow shot up.

"Inconsistencies?" he repeated.

"Yes. Our timber exports are but a fraction of what they were last quarter, while our mineral excavations are nearly doubled," Jareth said. Roldan seemed to grow puzzled at this.

"I believe you'll recall the fire that plagued the western front earlier this spring? Davion had reassigned the lumbermen to the mining facilities to counteract the loss of profit while the forest re-grows. I included an entire sublet on it." There was a hint of concern in Roldan's voice. Surely, Jareth remembered all this... He began to focus his gaze on Jareth's posture then, and realized something had made him greatly agitated.

Jareth nodded, but hadn't actually listened to a single word he'd said. Saying his mind was elsewhere was a grave understatement, and the place it had been taken to was fuming with vexation. As he walked aimlessly down the hall, without a clue as to his destination, he realized he needed a distraction.

"Erastor wishes to up their trade regiment of iron ore. See to it that negotiations are made, fittingly," he informed. Roldan's eyes continued to narrow, the wayward tone of Jareth's voice more than apparent.

"Is something bothering you, Sire?" he asked, surprised and not surprised when Jareth's reaction was naught, though there was a lengthy pause before he responded,

"No, actually," he answered, as if making some kind of angry realization. Roldan pondered the cause for such a reaction, but realized it could only be one thing. He then began to scowl. Was there not a single moment when that woman wasn't wreaking some kind of havoc? Two days he'd been back, and during both he'd seen Jareth riled and out of sorts. This kind of behavior wasn't becoming, or beneficial to a King. "So, how goes schooling that darling little bride of mine?" Roldan rose a tired brow -speak of the devil.

"Well...smoother than expected," he admitted, pleasantly so. He hadn't expected the girl to have actually done the work he'd assigned, and was surprised at the genuine interest she actually took in learning. "Aside from a few grumbles here and there, she seems to have a sincere interest in garnering an education. Which, hopefully, will make the next few weeks go by a little quicker." He watched Jareth intently as he spoke, but was only rewarded with the quick flicker of a smirk that was gone before it even appeared. Roldan wondered what she could have done, this time, that had set him off so. If he didn't know any better, he would have said his words only made Jareth more irritated. He watched as the King's eyes darkened.

"Very good."

They stopped in front of a door. Jareth turned and gazed down at Roldan, expectantly.

"I'll take those documents now," he said, signaling Roldan to cough up the folder he was carrying, and candidly flipped through its contents once it was in his hands. Roldan waited for his next order. "I'll have this back to you by tomorrow," he said and turned to enter the room and, without pause, continued to close the door in Roldan's face.

Jareth strolled through the library, leisurely b-lining it to his desk. He set the folder down and rolled his sleeves up a little further. It was a little past six, and the sun was at the perfect level to beam straight in through the ceiling high windows. Its rays were torrid.

He kicked back in his chair, letting out a long exhale as he mentally prepared for the long and tedious task of combing through the mound of drab gawking at him from across the desk. He closed his eyes and tried to clear his mind. He would deal with Sarah later. He looked down and pulled back the first page -though he hadn't finished reading the first sentence when the abrupt sound of a book slamming shut pulled his attention. He looked up and almost groaned.

"Liana...It's been a few days. Were you missing me?" he asked, blatantly tired, sarcastic, and poignantly uninterested.

Liana stood, angled away from him as she skimmed through a page of whatever book she was holding. She ignored his snide comment, and moved to slide the book back in its slot.

"No," she murmured, as if distracted, and proceeded to search for a new book. Jareth rolled his eyes and closed the folder.

"What are you doing here," he commanded, irritably. Liana began to pace, but still refused to give him her attention.

"I'm reading. This is a library, is it not?" she retorted, cattily flipping to the next page in an exaggerated manner. Jareth slouched back in his chair.

"Boning up on your history, then?" he asked, raising an eyebrow slightly at the title of her book. She stopped pacing then, and turned to look up at him.

"On the contrary, I already know the exact content of every single one of these books." Jareth straightened up a little.

"What do you want."

"I came to congratulate you. It's been over twenty-four hours and you haven't made Sarah cry," she said, somewhat cattily. Jareth huffed and looked away. He didn't have the time nor energy to deal with this. She narrowed her eyes on his dismissal and took a few steps towards him. "You let her outside again."

"Is that a question?" he asked, not bothering to look up from his papers, though he wasn't reading a single word. Liana began to tap her fingers along the edge of the desk as she paced.

"No. It's just surprising."

"Surprising that the Queen is not confined to her dungeon?" Jareth snarled. Liana rose a brow on him.

"No. That you aren't as paranoid over her safety as I thought you would be." Jareth's posture paused briefly, but soon regained its rhythm of flipping through pages.

"Who says I'm not? I don't need to be with her every waking moment to protect her. There are plenty of guards keeping an eye on things."

"And it doesn't bother you that _her_ Labyrinth is only a short skip away?" Liana paused, curling a smirk at the flicker of a cringe that shot across Jareth's face just then, and took satisfaction in the confirmation that her goading was having an effect.

Jareth's hand tightened and crinkled the edge of his paper, conscious to the success of Liana's spiteful stimulation. As if he wasn't irritated enough already. Her Labyrinth? _Please_.

"She won't go anywhere near it," he stated.

"Hm," Liana hummed, and continued to walk by. Jareth caught sight of her fingers grazing along the desk out of the corner of his eye, and glared up at her, viciously.

"What are you doing here. Like you said, Sarah hasn't been distraught, and I haven't summoned you."

"Yes, like I said, I came to congratulate you, on your ability to somewhat handle a situation," she said. Jareth pushed his papers away.

"What, would you like me to thank you for the opportunity?" he snapped, with venom in his words, instantly aggravated to be reminded of Sarah's breakdown the other night. As far as he was concerned, nothing about it had been resolved. He still didn't even know what her problem was. He wasn't sure what had gone wrong or how to fix it, which made it a very tender subject.

"Some gratitude would be nice, seeing how I could have simply used my influence to sate her."

"Is that a threat?"

"A threat?"

"Yes, as I duly recall every other instance in which you have used you influence on her."

"Settle down, My Liege. I'm not here to stir up sparks." Jareth glared harder.

"And yet you stand here fanning the fire."

Liana held his stare for a moment, before snapping whatever tension that had been poisoning the air. She blinked at him, and then relaxed her posture.

"My apologies. I am out of line. I'm trying to get used to Sarah's various emotions," she said, quickly, and then glanced away. Jareth rose his brow at her behavior.

"Really, now?" he asked, incredulous and exasperated. Great. Now, on top of Sarah, he had to deal with an emotionally radical celestial being. Ugh, women.

"Yes. And she certainly has a lot of them. That is actually the reason I've come to see you." She'd held her head low as she spoke, and crossed her arms before looking back up to him, with an uncertain and possibly even worried expression on her face. Jareth began to grow more attentive, and signaled for her to continue. "The amount of emotion...the amount of _unstable_ emotion I've been receiving from Sarah is causing fluxes within the Labyrinth -as we saw the other day. Now that she has returned to the Underground, her connection to me is much more tangible, and I am worried that these -disturbances may happen more and more often. And there is nothing I can do to stop them," she explained. Jareth had leaned forward, and his eyes narrowed to a suspicious scowl.

"Why are you telling me this?" he asked, warily. His gaze held hers, as if testing it for deceit. Liana stood a little taller, and any facade she may have had went undetected.

"Because we have an arrangement. And as long as you are King I am duty bound to uphold it. It is my job to help you maintain the balance. And I am telling you that balance is at risk," she stated, as crystal and stoic as ever. Jareth tilted his head slightly, unwilling to believe Liana would have given him this information so freely.

"And what would you recommend, exactly?" he asked. Liana's features hardened.

"Tell Sarah of her nature."

Jareth's brow actually shot up and he couldn't stop the incredulous grin that spread across his face.

"Excuse me?" he asked, trying his best to hold back a laugh. Liana however, didn't seem to find anything amusing about it.

"She is my master. You have brought her back to me. It is time she took her place. The longer she remains ignorant, the more unstable our energy will be."

Jareth's grin stretched and curled until it became something dastardly.

"I think you're exaggerating," he said, successfully bringing a look of surprise to Liana's face. "Your magic is fine." Liana's eyes slowly narrowed, but she said nothing. "You're up to something. What are you after?" he asked. Liana rolled her head away from him.

"What could I possibly be scheming for by telling you this?" she asked.

"I'm not sure. But I know you wouldn't come to me of this so freely. Did you really think I would awaken Sarah's power merely because you asked me to?" His tone took on something haughty, but wasn't prepared for one end of Liana's sternly pursed lips began to curl. She unfolded her arms, and stepped towards him once more.

"No," she said, oh-so-smugly. Jareth watched her warily as she rounded the desk.

"Then what are you after?" he asked, his eyes glued to her face, but hers were cast off at the floor. There was something dangerous about her grin.

"Now, why would I tell you that? Especially when you've already given it to me." Jareth furrowed his brow at that. What? He was about to be confused, but the look on her face told him to remain on guard and worry about it later.

"Speaking of emotions and scheming, you wouldn't happen to have had something to do with Sarah's new demeanor, would you?" he asked, _almost_ rhetorically.

"And what if I did?"

"Then I would ask why it is you are helping me."

Liana leaned against the desk and looked down at him.

"Why would I not assist in bringing happiness to my master? This is her home, she should love and embrace it. Any benefits you may find are merely consequence..." Jareth had decided to look away from her as she spoke, showing her his disinterest as well as trying to bring his attention back to his paperwork. "But the question does beg itself-" She piped up. He peered out, out of the corner of his eye. "If you are no more than her future husband, her protector and teacher, why should I not be helping you?"

Jareth had stilled until the stiffness of his aura had become tangible. There was something about Liana's tone. He couldn't put a finger on it. Why was she here? What did she want? Deep down, he had a feeling she already knew of his intentions, but grew all the more confused as to why she was helping him in his efforts rather than warding him off... And she _was_ helping him. There were no such thing as unintended consequence. She was making her moves, slowly and deliberately. His moves were simple, admittedly predictable. And that was the reason that Liana's position was so dangerous. What in the Hell was she after? She was goading him for something, but he had no idea what for or why.

"I told you, she is strong, intelligent, resourceful, and holds over you. She is the perfect match. There is no one more worthy of becoming my wife," he said, in a slow and precise recitation. Something about this whole situation was off. If Liana knew of Jareth's intention to reclaim Sarah's power, why wasn't she trying to stop him? It was her duty to protect her master. But if she didn't know, why was she being so ominous and troublesome over the matter?

"And yet, you hesitate."

"All things in their due time." He'd turned his attention back to his folder, trying to bring some of the casual atmosphere back to the room. He wasn't ready when he felt her hand clasp his shoulder, or when she then bent down as if to whisper in his ear. He became instantly on guard then. Never, in all their centuries, had she ever even come close to touching him.

"You may be clever and cunning and wicked, as you plot from the shadows, My King. But I am the walls on which your shadows cast. My ear is the breeze that blows through these halls. My gaze is cast by the sun and the moon and although you have many prying eyes it is I who sees all." Her fingers tightened on his shoulder. "Be wary, My King, for no matter how well you play your hand, you can never trump the dealer."

Something dark and malevolent began to pour from Jareth's very soul the longer she spoke. He felt her hand over his shoulder, and the mere pressure of her fingers was enough to send him into a near-blind rage. His hands slowly fisted as she spoke, but just as he whipped his head up, just as his teeth snarled and black flames began to shout from his eyes, did the sound of the door creaking open shatter through the moment, and not one second later, she was gone.

Roldan strolled into the room, but stopped dead in his tracks when he saw Jareth fuming and about to tear, what appeared to be, thin air to shreds. He worried his brow, and for a moment, thought he should just turn around and go back the way he came. He waited a beat however, too concerned to risk moving.

Jareth actually bore fang as he glared at the open space where Liana once stood, and his chest heaved with a rush of adrenaline and absurdity. He was so angry. So unbelievably angry. Never had he received such a blatant threat and debasement of position from her. And it wasn't so much her words that bothered him, but the fact that she had, once again, asserted her dominance over him in a manner that tore away any amount of pride and respect he'd amassed over the centuries of his reign.

His pride was screaming for blood. Never had she acted like this. She was truly conspiring to something, and what enraged him more than anything else, was the fact that they both knew that, whatever it was, he couldn't do anything about it. She'd reduced him to nothing with only a short whisper. It seemed there was a system of very pertinent checks and balances in this game of theirs. It was like they'd gone from the strategy of chess, to simple rock paper scissors. Jareth was the scissors, Sarah the paper, and Liana the rock. And if Jareth despised one thing more than anything else it was being openly untenable to another. While the surface impact of her words may have seemed minuscule, they had completely undermined everything Jareth held dear. There was nothing worse than being emasculated by a butterfly. This, all these reasons, on top of his previous aggravation regarding Sarah, had combined in that split second. And what made it truly brutal was that it had been cut off before its climax. He turned, his gaze bright with ferocity, and glared at Roldan, debating whether or not he should thank him, or make him an unfortunate casualty. Roldan took a step forward, and lowered his head submissively.

"Um, Majesty? I thought I might get your signature on a trade order. But...if you would like to be left alone, I can come back later," he said, as if trying to bait a wild animal. Jareth turned, and locked his jaw, viciously grinding his teeth and he forced his anger to dissipate. After a moment, he let out a hard exhale, but that was the only amount of tension that left him.

"Bring it here," he bit out. Roldan hesitated, but gave in to approach him at the desk. He wondered, gravely, what had upset him so direly within the last twenty minutes. He watched as Jareth's penmanship nearly tore through the paper. He then slammed the pen down and stood from the desk, not bothering to hand the paper back to Roldan.

"Sire?" Roldan asked, concerned. It was very rare that he saw Jareth this angry. So angry in fact, that something told him it may have nothing to do with Sarah.

Jareth stalked passed, practically stomping towards the door.

"Tell Gorumn to prepare something for me in the dungeon. And send word that I am not to be bothered for the rest of the night," he growled, and stormed out into the hall.


	32. Rhetoric, part 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While unbeknown to her, Sarah has succeeded in obtaining the one thing the Goblin King has desired for hundreds of years -power over the Labyrinth. After being hidden for years from his diabolical wrath, Sarah finds herself alone and vulnerable as Jareth's dark desires are finally aloud to rear their ugly heads. As always, the only question is, are things really as they seem?

Sarah ran with the fervor of a thousand energizer bunnies. She didn't stop, didn't think, just ran. Her eyes were focused and intent on the image before her, but she barely registered any of it. She had no idea of the time, but hadn't slowed down even a step. In fact, she may have started running faster. Her breathing was heavy, but set a neutral pace. She pumped her arms and kept her shoulders relaxed, and it didn't even occur to her to wonder why she wasn't the least bit tired. She was so intent on clearing her mind, yet her intense focus only seemed to be counteracting that. Instead of her thoughts, she focused on her movements, on the mechanical mindless repetition. This was simple. This was easy. After a while, a tension that she hadn't even been aware of began to lift from her shoulders, releasing her rancorous thoughts from their cage to drift off in the breeze.

Slowly, the sound of her breathing became more prevalent in her ears, a sure sign that her daze of determination and frustration was finally at its end. Now freed from her own will, she glanced over at the looming silhouette of the castle and was almost baffled that, in all the time she'd been running, she had just barely started to round its circumference. She glanced up next, and saw that the sun had moved a great deal to the west. The path around her was starting to vibrate with the low golden hue of evening. This new awareness of reality reminded her body that she'd been running nonstop for what appeared to be hours now and, in a desperate plea, told her that the fumes she'd been literally running on were nearly depleted. She took in a sharp breath and began to slow down, brining a hand to her side. She had a cramp.

She jogged to a halt and brought her arms over her head and began to take in slow, deep breaths. She walked in circles, using her time to survey the area.

There was nothing special about this stretch of path compared to any other. The walls were the same, the gravel was the same. Aside from a few weeds springing up here and there, it was all the same. She put an ear out and listened for signs of the town. It was more of the same, only it was starting to wind down along with the passing time. She wondered where she was in relevance to the city as well as the castle. With that thought she looked up at the castle once more, her stance that of awe as she gazed upwards towards the heavens. It was so big. It was hard to imagine that she and Jareth had scaled every room in just two days. She wondered where her room was, where the pool room was; but more than that, she wondered where Jareth's room was. Well, not really _Jareth's_ room, per say, but the window in Jareth's room. She squinted her eyes, and used a hand to shield her gaze from the setting sun, but couldn't make out any form towards the top of the tower -which was where she only assumed his room would be, given it's vantage point.

She rolled back on her heel and leaned against a wall. Her cramp wasn't going away as expected. That's when she realized she hadn't drank anything all day. How stupid! Why would she go running without any water? _Maybe because I was too distracted to think of it..._ her thoughts grumbled. She leaned forward and put her hands on her knees; the more she thought about it, the more exhausted she became. She started looking around, as if she might catch someone as they walked by, but there was no one there. But then she thought of something. She straightened up a bit, and looked around as if speaking to the wind.

"Hey ...uhh... I know you're there. Um, if it isn't too much trouble, could one of you bring me some water?" she asked the air.

While she was alone, she knew she wasn't. Jareth's deal wasn't to make the Goblins go away completely, only to hide them so she wouldn't be bothered. She knew they were there, watching her, somewhere... After a moment, she glanced to the side, catching movement out of the corner of her eye. At first, she was confused, having sworn she just watched a Goblin come marching straight out of the wall; but then she remembered the hidden turns within the Labyrinth. Was this path the same? Had she been breezing by dozens of turns this entire time? She put that thought on pause however, and took a minute to look the creature over.

Surprisingly, this Goblin was almost shoulder height, and was covered in head-to-toe armor. It was red, with a messy number 5 painted across the breast plate. He carried a halberd in one hand, and used it as a balancing agent as he bowed low and gave her a wide sweep of his arm.

"Your Majesty," It said, it's voice muffled behind the visor of its helmet. Sarah waited a beat until it stood, and promptly produced for her a leather canteen. For a split second, she was hesitant to take it.

"Um, thank you," she said, distractedly fiddling with however the hell she was supposed to open it, and then took a small swig. "Here, if this is yours I don't want to drink all of it," she added, and quickly handed it back to the guard.

"Nonsense, my Queen shall take whatever she needs or wants. Please," he said, and made a gesture for her to keep it. Sarah's eyes flickered down, before shrugging and downing the rest in a few large gulps. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand when she was done. "Would thy lady like some more?"

"Um, yes actually, only if it isn't too much trouble," she said. She didn't really know what to expect, but looked up at the wall when another Goblin suddenly hustled in, handed the red guard another canteen, and quickly dashed off again. She flickered her eyes back down and impulsively swapped out her empty container for a fresh one. "Thank you."

"Thy lady is most welcome. Is there anything else you require?" It asked. Sarah leaned back against the wall, and rose an arm to shield her face from the sun.

"No, I think I'm good," she said and proceeded to continue catching her breath. She began to lower her gaze to the ground, but brought it back up when she saw the guard bow to her as if to exit. She caught him just before he turned around. "Wait-" she called out. The guard came to an immediate halt, and stomped on a foot before turning on a dime back to face her.

"Yes, my Queen?"

"What's your name?" she asked. The guard seemed to flinch just then, surprised.

"Uhhm, Baldur, Majesty," he answered.

"Could you please raise your visor, Baldur?" she asked. Again, he flinched, but did as she asked. She cracked a grin when she saw how long and pointy his nose was. "Thank you. Now, my name is Sarah. It's a pleasure to meet you."

Baldur twitched again, but this time it was more in his eyes. They widened, forming deep crinkles in his face. Sarah grinned again, amused that he was so caught off guard.

"And I you, my lady," he answered, darting his eyes every which way as if greatly anxious. Sarah lowered her arm, feeling her cramp sooth itself away.

"Please, I want you to call me Sarah. No titles, ok? And you can tell that to the rest of your squad." Baldur's brow drew, but he nodded, quickly.

"As you wish, Majes-UhhImean Sarah," he stammered. Sarah curled her lips at him, and decided to scan over the scenery again, in an effort to alleviate some of his anxiety.

"So, you've been watching me pretty close then, eh?" she spoke, breaking some ice along with it.

"Yes."

"How exactly do you do that? I mean...there aren't any hiding places, and I haven't seen a single soul out here all day."

"We have our ways, my lady -er Sarah." She shot him a smirk then.

"Well, you're very good at your jobs then," she said, and paused to look up all around. "And the rest of you, where ever you are, I compliment your skill!" she proclaimed, pretty sure they would be able to hear her. She looked back to Baldur, who was still standing stiff and anxious. Apparently, her behavior was strange.

"Thank you, ...Sarah," Baldur said. Sarah giggled to herself and took another drink.

"How do you keep up with me? I've been running pretty fast. Do you run alongside me, or something?" she inquired.

"Um, no. We have...other ways." She could tell by his mannerism that it would be difficult for him to explain how they did it, so she took pity by simply moving on from it.

"I see..." she murmured, and slowly roamed her gaze down the path ahead. She narrowed her eyes, and saw there were a number of fallen tree branches blocking the way. "Thanks for the water Baldur, you're a life saver. I'll let you get back to your post now," she said, and began walking towards the branches she was eyeing so intently. Baldur chose to watch her before moving from his spot.

Sarah put her hands on her hips as she stood before the mound of branches, wondering just how in the world they ended up here. The entire area around them was completely clear, devoid of anything let alone a tree. Hmm... She pursed her lips as she thought, running her eyes along the thick limbs from one end to the other. A light bulb flicked on just then, and without a word of explanation, she began pulling apart and arranging various branches. Baldur looked on, concerned.

"Um, would thy lady like some assistance?" he asked. Sarah let out a deep breath as she heaved one of the heavier branches, and shot him a smile from over her shoulder.

"No thanks, I got this," she said, and continued whatever it was she was doing. Baldur took a few steps to join her, his aura timid and anxious.

"Please, manual labor is no action for a Queen. Whatever you wish, I shall do it," he said. Sarah paused, and looked back to him.

"Really, I'm fine. I'm a big girl, I can handle a couple branches," she said, and turned back around. Baldur started shifting around uncomfortably.

"May I ask what it is you are trying to do?" he inquired, very much uncomfortable and borderline fearful that he was standing idly by while his Queen persisted. She waited until securing the last branch in place before responding.

"I'm making a hurdle," she said, and smacked the dirt from her hands. Baldur's brow drew.

"A what?" he asked. She turned and smiled, counting in her head as she began to step backwards. Baldur followed.

"A hurdle. Something for me to jump over," he explained. Baldur nearly shook.

"That doesn't sound very safe, my lady," he said, wanting to urge her desist, yet knowing he had no place to. Sarah rolled her eyes and waved a hand through the air.

"Oh, pshaw, It'll be fine. I do this all the time."

"Why would you do that?" he asked, sounding mildly horrified. Sarah stopped after retreating the proper distance, and turned on her heel.

"Because it's fun. And it's a good work out. And -it's something I'm good at," she said, and looked down the path to make sure everything was in order. Then she leaned down for her canteen, taking one last swig.

"My lady-"

"Sarah."

"Sarah, please forgive me, but I must insist against this. If something happened to you, His Majesty would-"

"Jareth can get over it," she bit out, then immediately felt bad for being rude to her guard. He was just doing his job after all. She looked down to him, and gave him a sympathetic grin. "Sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt you. But really, I'll be fine. I got this. Besides, I've got all you guys looking out for me right?"

"...of course."

"Well then? I'd say I'm in safe hands then. Go on now, it'll be fine," she gently urged. Baldur continued to fret, looking down and all around as if some grand war of wills was wracking his brain. But, after a moment or two, he eased up and nodded in acceptance.

"Should you need us-"

"I'll call," she said, with a smile, and watched as he then bowed and turned back down the secret corner from which he came.

Once he was gone, it didn't take more than a second for Sarah's curiosity to take over. As soon as the flag on his halberd disappeared, she darted towards the wall, in hopes of finding this hidden corner. Only, when she reached it, all she found was a brick wall to the face. She gasped and stumbled, trying to break her fall from the surprise. _What? I thought this was a turn? Didn't he just go through here? What the Hell? _she wondered, and the proceeded to wonder if Jareth had something to do with it. She groaned and scowled at the wall, hands on hips n' all. Well, with there being nothing she could really do about it, she chose to move on and turned her attention back to the task at hand.

She moved back to the center of the path, and eyed her sorry excuse for a hurdle one last time. She took a deep breath and wiped the sweat from her brow. God, it had to be getting close to late evening and it was still so freaking hot out. The more she thought about the heat, the more suffocating it became. She tried to fan herself off with her hands, but it was no use. She placed her hands on her hips, gripping the fabric of her tank top, and looked around again, pondering the possible pros and cons of what she was about to do.

"Fuck it," she muttered to herself, and yanked her tank top up and over her head, casting it off to the side next to her water. She wasn't sure she liked the parallels this drew to the night Jareth took her, but it was just too damn hot out. And besides, he'd made a deal that he wouldn't bother her, so there was nothing to really worry about, right? She stretched a bit before taking stance at her imaginary start line, counting down in her head and schooling her breathing as if this actually mattered. _On your mark. Get set. Go!_

She made the first jump without fault, and bounded to an easy stop. Then, she turned around and did the same thing from the other direction. She went through this motion, over and over and over again, rejoicing in the victory that she still had it. A part of her wished there were more branches for her to make a second and maybe even third jump, but she knew that would be asking too much. So instead, she focused in, cleared her mind, and burnt out the remainder of her frustrations through the mindless repetition of jumping back and forth.

It wasn't too long before she began to tire herself out, her breathing becoming hoarse and her chest heavy. She put her hands on her hips and looked on, her water bottle being on other side of the hurdle. She took a deep breath. _Just one more jump. I got this,_ she told herself, and closed her eyes just before taking off.

She felt her knees wobble as she ran, but chose not to think of it. Yes, she had probably most definitely and unnecessarily over-worked herself today, something for which she was sure she was going to pay for in the days to come; but darn this was what she needed. She needed to be worn out, she needed a clean slate. She rose her leg as she made her jump, and seemed to glide over it effortlessly. She wasn't aware that, in her fatigue, her back foot had lowered, catching on a knot in the wood, and sending her toppling across the hard stone path.

She reacted within a nanosecond, trying her best to catch her balance and save herself. But her legs were just too weak, she felt her knees turn to jell-o and buckle, sending her skidding a good five feet down the path. She landed on her hands and knees, and immediately rolled back on her tailbone. She winced, and drew her knee up to her chest, examining the nasty scrape consuming most of her kneecap.

"Ah, bitch," she bit out, hissing in a breath as she dealt with the sting. She rolled back some more, looking over the rest of herself for any more injuries.

Ugh, she hated stupid scrapes like this. They were just like paper cuts. They were nothing, hardly an injury at all, but damn they just hurt like such a bitch. As she looked over her knee, she saw only a couple layers of skin had been taken, not quite enough to draw blood, but she could see it starting to pool at the surface. She looked up just then, and saw a butterfly fluttering about. It perched on her leg, but she was quick to shoo it away. Seriously, what the fuck was up with all the damn butterflies? She didn't have time to think of anything else, before an entire hoard of Goblins was suddenly upon her.

"The Queen is down! This Queen is down!"

"Quickly, quickly, the Queen is injured!"

"Summon the King!"

"Get information!"

She heard yelling and orders flying from every which way, and quickly stammered to her feet in a bleak attempt to control the situation.

"Whoa! Whoawhoawhoawhoa. Everybody just calm down!" she exclaimed, raising her hands out in front of her in a gesture that signified just that. The Goblins didn't seem to be listening to her, however, and were still pouting on about fetching the King. "Hey!" she screamed, though only drawing a the gazes of the Goblins closest by, one of which being Baldur. "Baldur! Tell them to stop and listen to me!" she commanded, hoping that he was the one in charge. Baldur turned, and rose his halberd in the air, and just like that the crowd silenced. Sarah lowered her hands. "Thank you...now everybody just calm down and listen to me. There is no need to get Jareth."

"But the Queen has been injured!" one voice proclaimed, and was quickly joined by many more. Sarah started shaking her head.

"No, I haven't. It's just a scrape. I'm fine."

"But, my lady, we can see the wound!"

"It's nothing. I'm fine. Please, you don't need to bring Jareth." Baldur stepped up then, assuming authority over the other Goblins.

"Sarah, we are under orders to protect you. You have been injured on our watch, it is our duty to report to the King. He will want to know," he explained. Sarah took a deep breath. There was no way they were bringing Jareth into this over a freaking scrape.

"Baldur. Look. I'm fine. I just had a slight tumble. It's not like I've broken my leg."

"And you were under my watch. I should have prevented you from engaging in such dangerous behavior. The King will-"

"The King will be fine," Sarah snapped, "Look, this wasn't your fault. I know you're all afraid of what Jareth will do to you, but I am the Queen right? Which means I have a say, too, and I say I am fine and none of you will be punished." Some of the Goblins seemed please at this, while others began looking more and more antsy.

"But-we have orders, my lady."

"You must be tended to."

"The Queen must never be harmed."

Soon, the crowd was riotous again, clamoring on, yet not actually doing anything. She started shaking her head, wondering how in the Hell Jareth put up with this. No wonder he was so hard on them. She looked down and Saw Baldur silently staring up at her.

"My lady Sarah, please. It is our duty. You must be seen to," he pleaded.

Sarah held his gaze for what she considered a long time, before giving in to her exasperation. She rolled her eyes up to the sky and huffed.

"Fine. Fine! How about this, I'll go back to the castle and get seen to there, ok? Just -just don't call Jareth down," she compromised. The Goblins started calming down then.

"But-but the King must be made aware!"

"I'll go see him myself then!" she called out, throwing her hands up in the air. It seemed, either way, her day out in the sun was over, but even if she agreed to go back in for aid, there was no way in hell she was going to Jareth. Maybe she'd head down to the newly installed pool room...

"Alright. If that is what thy lady wishes. Please, allow us to escort you back to the gates," Baldur said, and turned to eye down the rest of his squad, who in turn nodded in agreement. Sarah placed her hands on her hips and shrugged.

"Alrighty then. Lead on," she said, and gestured for them to proceed, before bending down and picking up her now very much dust and sweat covered shirt. The Goblins started to move around her, forming a perimeter before they marched. For a moment, Sarah wondered if they were going to march her all the way back down the path. They instead, however, started leading her through the hidden passage in the wall, and she was surprised when this time it actually worked. She looked on in intrigue, and saw that, with only a few minutes of walking, the path had led them straight to the castle gates. Hm, weird. She thought, but didn't question. She stopped at the top of the staircase, and turned back to them.

"Thank you, for looking out for me. You did your jobs well," she said, but it was more than apparent that none of the Goblins agreed with her. She started to frown, wondering if the reason they were so upset was because she had been hurt, or because they would have to deal with Jareth about it. Assuming the latter, she chose to speak up about it. "I promise, you don't have to worry about Jareth. You did nothing wrong." Some of them nodded, some of them shrugged, while most of them did nothing. She looked over to Baldur, and gave him a reassuring grin. "I'll see you around, ok? Thanks again for the water."

"My lady," he replied, with a bow, signaling Sarah it was ok for her to turn her back on them.


	33. Rhetoric, part 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While unbeknown to her, Sarah has succeeded in obtaining the one thing the Goblin King has desired for hundreds of years -power over the Labyrinth. After being hidden for years from his diabolical wrath, Sarah finds herself alone and vulnerable as Jareth's dark desires are finally aloud to rear their ugly heads. As always, the only question is, are things really as they seem?

Sarah tried not to wince as she walked down the hall back to her room. There were pinpricks of blood starting to ooze from her knee, as well as a light ring of yellowing purple that would soon become a bruise, and god it stung like a bitch; but she sucked it up and tried to speed walk to her room as quickly and casually as possible.

It was much cooler in the castle now that the sun was starting to set, so the sheen of sweat glistening her body was starting to take effect. She gripped her shirt in her hand, debating whether or not she should put it back on, but thought she was close enough to her room to hold out. She was wrong.

She stopped dead in her tracks when Roldan rounded a corner just then. He was looking down, reading something in a folder in his hands, and stopped equally abruptly about five feet in front of her. Sarah blanched and froze, awkwardly. Roldan lowered his file, and slowly rose a brow at her, his eyes blatantly raking down her state of dress.

"Uh, hi," she said, not knowing what else to do, and wobbled back on her heel. Her eyes joined his at looking herself over. Yeah...she really should have put her shirt back on.

"Good evening," he answered, skeptically. Hm, good, she wasn't the only one weirded out by this encounter. Maybe they could both just turn around and walk away. "You were outside, I see," he added. Sarah's brow slowly rose.

"Uh...yea, I was. I went for a run."

"A what?"

"A run? I went jogging."

"Why would you do that?" he asked, sounding genuinely perplexed.

"Because it's healthy?" she countered, letting him know by her tone that she thought his question was nothing but absurd. His eyes lowered again.

"You went out dressed like...that?" he inquired, letting the last word role nastily off his tongue. Sarah tried not to glare.

"No...I had a shirt on."

"And what happened to that?" he asked. Sarah rolled her eyes.

"I took it off obviously," she said, sarcastically, and snarled when his look on her only worsened. "Oh, come on, it was like a hundred degrees out today! Don't worry, no one saw me," She continued on in exasperation.

"I surely hope not." Sarah glared harder at that, his goading having a very precise affect on her.

"And what do you mean by that exactly? Go on, tell me I look like a whore. I know you're dying for it," she snapped. Roldan's brow shot up at her comment, and his condescending glare faded away.

"I would not ever insult you in such a way," he said, cryptically almost. Sarah wanted to growl.

"Whatever. Well, I just got back, so if you could, or you really don't have to bother, I don't really care, but if you see him, tell Jareth I'm back. That way he won't have to come looking for me," she said, folding her arms over her chest, and pouting like a five-year-old.

"I don't think you have to worry about him seeking you out this night," he muttered. Sarah narrowed her eyes. She was about to ask if something had happened, but thought against it.

"Good," she said, and turned to stalk away.

"Sarah-" he called out, causing her to stop dead in her step. "What happened to your knee?" he asked. Sarah looked down, then back up to him, and shrugged.

"I tripped. It's no big deal. I'm fine."

"Has Jareth been informed?" he asked, gravely, but she had no idea why.

"Um...no? It's just a little scratch. I'm sure I'll find a bandaid in my room." There was a blip in Roldan's thoughts asking what in the world was a bandaid, but he had more pressing issues on his mind.

"He will want to know of it. Immediately," he said, again with some dark and ominous undertone.

"Fine, then you tell him," she said, pointedly. She saw Roldan tense just then, but wasn't sure why. Little did she know, Roldan's apprehension stemmed from the fact that Jareth had ordered not to be disturbed, and yet, he knew that if he wasn't informed of this incident, heads would be flying. Well, more than there already were. He wasn't sure what to do. He could send a Goblin in his stead, but felt pity at the fate that surely awaited it.

"Did something happen earlier?" he suddenly asked. Sarah scowled then, not knowing what he was referring to.

"Um, no? I've been outside all day. I wouldn't know about anything, as if I would even if I was in." Roldan shook his head subtly.

"No...I mean, did something happen between you and Jareth today?" he clarified. Sarah's back straightened, her thoughts immediately turning to their encounter outside, but shook it away. There was no way Roldan would have any idea about that, right?

"Um...no, not really," she answered, and only grew more curious as Roldan's furrowed brow continued to twist. Was there something she should know about? "Why? _Did_ something happen?" she asked. Roldan gripped his folder of papers and shook his head.

"I'm not sure," he said, and made move to storm away. Sarah's concern, however, stopped him before he could get away. He had to move closer to her to pass her, and so she reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder, holding him back. He stopped and turned. His eyes were intense and his nostrils flared, but she took no note of it.

"Roldan, is something going on?" she asked, sincerely concerned. Roldan's eyes flicked down her again, but it took a minute for them to come back up. Something about him seemed different all of a sudden, but she wasn't sure what. He took a deep breath, and tried to look away from her. When he spoke, it was terse.

"No. Nothing for you to worry about. Though, I suggest you return to your chamber and see to yourself, now," he said, and quickly stormed away.

Sarah blinked at the empty hallway, before readily turning around and resuming the walk back to her room. _Well, that was strange..._ she thought, wondering what his deal was and whether or not something bad had happened. She bit her lip as she walked, her mind ranting the various possibilities that could make Roldan concerned for Jareth. Surely, there was nothing she did, right? Well, there was that kiss, but he shouldn't have become angry about it. She didn't understand, and so dismissed that train of thought completely. She reached her room within minutes and let out a sigh when met with the familiar and newly welcoming site of her bed and dressers. She stretched as she walked, rolling her tired ankles and twisting her neck from side to side. She sat down on the bed and tore off her shoes and socks, wiggling her toes with the comfort of their freedom. She sat for a minute, simply relaxing, but the feel of her fresh and clean linens against her reminded her that she was covered in sweat and filth. And so she stood, tossing her shirt into the corner, and making headway for her dressers to pick out something new to wear after her shower. She was just about to shimmy out of her shorts when she turned, and nearly jumped back in surprise.

"God! -Damn it! Why do you have to keep doing that?!" she exclaimed, wrapping her arms around to cover herself from Jareth's languid gaze as his eyes swept over her. Her eyes burned at him and she stumbled a step or two back. Jareth gave her a smirk, but otherwise remained motionless as he leaned, with arms crossed, against her armoire. It didn't take more than a second for her to become greatly aggravated with his presence. "What are you doing here? I thought you said you were going to leave me alone."

"While you were outside. Did I forget to specify that? Oh, sorry," he said, cheekily, and pushed himself up from the armoire to take a step towards her.

"Yes, you did. You said you were going to leave me alone as long as I want, location was not specified," she said, and wondered why the hell her voice was so shaky. She took a step back.

"Your point?" he asked, quirking her a dangerous eyebrow as he continued to encroach on her. She ran her eyes from head to toe on him, marking on his messy and ragged appearance. His shirt was pulled out in some spots, and all the ties were undone. His hair looked messier than usual; but she dismissed all that to the scorching humid weather. Her eyes grew more attentive when his hands went to his hips.

"My point is that you caused your own loophole. I would like you to leave," she said, as politely as possible, feeling like a poor little mouse left exposed against a hungry fat cat. Jareth stopped once he stood before her, letting his eyes drop and linger.

"That is all well and good, but you didn't think I wouldn't come to you knowing you had been injured, do you? No, I believe that is grounds enough to void that little contract of ours," he said, and the blatant drawl in his voice was enough to make her aware that there was something off about him. She flickered her eyes again and narrowed them on the speckles of red that dotted his front. She wondered what it was.

"Let me guess, Roldan tattled, didn't he?" she asked, snarkily, and matched his pose by placing her own hands on her hips. Jareth cracked a smirk at her.

"Tattled?"

"Yes. And as you can see, I'm fine. I tripped and scraped my knee. It's no big deal," she said, and rose her arms up in a grand gesture for him to take his fill -something she immediately regretted. He took another step, forcing her to angle herself away and back into one of her dressers. She dared to look up and caught the predatory look in his eye. She really, really should have put her shirt back on.

"No big deal? My Sarah, I don't think you understand," his voice rumbled, lowering and darkening with something that had no place being in the conversation. She darted her eyes around for a way out.

"Understand what?" she asked. He leaned over, just enough to rest his hands on the rim of the dresser, caging her in. She tried her best not to quake in her boots. After their moment outside, she wasn't sure how their next meeting would go. She hoped things hadn't gone to his head. He shifted his weight onto one leg, so he could lower himself to meet her at eye level.

"Your safety and well-being is the most important responsibility to befall any of my subjects. It is the most important thing to me. If anything ever happened to you..." He held her gaze as he spoke, his eyes burning her with their ferocity. Sarah tried not to keep hers so wide.

"Yeah, well. It was just a scrape. Seriously. It's not like I broke my leg or anything. There's no reason for everyone to be freaking out."

"No. But there could have been. I was careless to turn my gaze away. It was the guard's job to protect you." She interjected then, sensing where this was heading.

"They didn't do anything wrong. They advised me against what I was doing, and I ordered them to deal with it. They also took up arms when I fell, and again I ordered them to cease. They did everything you wanted them to do. In fact, they were so worried that they coerced me into coming back inside and tending to my knee. So you better not punish them," she said, jabbing him in the chest with her index finger. Jareth's grin broadened, gallantly. Every time she did that, something interesting usually followed. He rose a hand and pulled away her nasty little finger, lowering it back to the dresser and covering it with his own so she couldn't move it again. Sarah glared.

"Hm, so is that what you're doing then? Tending to your wounds?" he asked, sounding so amused and haughty that it made her brow twist. It seemed like he had some kind of scheme hiding under his tongue, but she had no idea what it could possibly be. She lowered her eyes for just a moment, feeling her curiosity drawn by the proximity of his bare chest. Again, her eyes caught on the speckles of red staining the white linen.

"I was about to, when you so rudely intruded," she said, tugging her hand out from under his. She looked back up to him to find his eyelids were lowered, and his gaze had acquired a strange glaze. She flinched back when he leaned in, his nose brushing against her ear. He smiled, and took a deep inhale, lowering to run his nose down her neck.

"Then I made it just in time," he murmured. His breath, along with the light wisps of his hair sent a shiver down her spine. She was about to interject when he continued, "I recon you gave Roldan a bit of a surprise when you ran into him." Sarah's brow drew.

"Um, I guess...why?" she asked, her skepticism helping to distract from his mannerisms as he continued to smell his way down her neck.

"Do you have any idea how intoxicating you smell?" he asked, gripping the rim of the dresser more tightly as he spoke. Sarah started to squirm.

"Um, no. I just got done working out. I'm all sweaty and dirty. I _recon_ I smell pretty awful," she said, only a twinge weirded out. She made a move to snake out from under him, but he only caged her in further.

"On the contrary, I find your musk quite invigorating," he said, and it didn't take Sarah long to figure out what was going on. That must have been it, that strange look in his eye, his predatory aura. He must be drugged out on more pheromones or something. He was smelling her after all. Damn it. She tried not to cringe with the thought of Jareth getting all primal and riled over her sweating, of all things.

"Ew. That's gross. Please let me go so I can take a shower. I feel disgusting," she said, grimacing at the floor and raising an arm to push against him as she made a run for it. Her success in this attempt was naught. Jareth leaned his pelvis forward, forcing her to straighten out against the dresser.

"I like you disgusting," he drawled. Sarah took a deep breath.

"Let me go so I can take care of my knee, then. Or do you like me wounded and bleeding too?" she tried again. She felt Jareth chuckle against her skin, but couldn't say anything more as he began to move, lowering himself until he was kneeling before her. Without a word, he took hold of her thigh, and pulled it out, setting her knee at a 90 degree angle. She leaned back at the sudden gesture, and used her rump against the dresser for balance.

She watched him as he examined her, watched as his bare hands roamed and caressed her skin, watched as he watched her with vigor. She could feel her skin tingling against him, but wrote it off as nerves. She knew Jareth could be quite temperamental, and possibly even dangerous when he got like this. She needed to be careful.

Jareth held her leg with one hand, examining her scratch as he ran the other up and down the inside of her thigh, raising it a little higher each time. He cocked his head to the side, and before Sarah could squeal, leaned in and ran his tongue from base to tip over the mark.

Sarah felt the sting of his saliva against her wounded flesh and quickly jumped in revulsion. Her eyes widened and she openly gucked at him.

"Ugh, what the hell? Did you really just do that?!" she shrieked, trying with all her might to jump over him and scurry off into the bathroom. He held her in place however, and started laughing at her struggle, before slowly rising to loom over her again. He still held her thigh with one hand, which caused her to have to hop up on her tip toe and lean further back against the dresser.

"You seem upset," he said, with a scandalous smile and a dark twinkle in his eye. Sarah meanwhile, only grew more mortified.

"Upset? You just licked my knee. That's disgusting," she snapped.

"I enjoy the taste of you," he said, only furthering her distress.

"Of my nasty, sticky, bloody knee? Why would you do that?" She really, really couldn't fathom what had possessed him to do that. And why - why was he laughing at her?! Ugh.

"Because I also enjoy making you squirm," he teased, then, after an agonizing moment on Sarah's part, took pity on her and took a step away. His eyes darted down, signaling she should do the same. She looked down, and saw her knee was no longer injured. She drew her brow on it, in a ghastly expression as if she were shocked in horror.

"You healed it?" she asked, rhetorically, and looked back up when he remained silent. "Th-thank you..." she muttered, unsure of herself, but then quickly found resolve. "But did you have to lick it to do that? That's gross Jareth," she lectured. Jareth merely raised a bored brow at her.

"Why?" he challenged. Sarah blinked at him, just blinked.

"Wha-what do you mean why?" she countered, horrified.

"Why do you find it foul that one should revel in every part of you?" he asked. Sarah started blinking again, more rapidly this time. She opened her mouth to speak, but hadn't decided on a proper comeback.

"Uhh...I find it unsanitary that someone wants to lick my wounds."

"Well, someone should," he said, and leaned back in to burry his nose in her hair. She cringed against him and wiggled away.

"Jareth-" she said, in an obvious plea, and rose her hands to lightly push against him. His arms caged her in again.

"I hadn't thought of the consequences of your day out in the sun," he murmured, slowly drawing her attention. "Physical labor...exertion...I can feel your heart pumping the blood through your veins. It feels so refreshing doesn't it?"

"No, it's grimy."

"Ah yes, all that dust and sweat, the glisten of moisture that covers your entire body...it's so strong. It's enough to make one a bit...ravenous." She could feel his lips nearing her neck.

"Ok, I get it. I smell. Can I please go take a shower now?" She was as close to begging as her pride would allow, and hopelessly gazed at anything that wasn't him. She could feel the thumb of the hand holding her thigh start to stroke.

"Not yet...I believe this moment presents us the opportunity to bring up something we desperately need to talk about," he said.

"What do you mean? We have to talk about the way I smell?" she asked, bemused, and tingled all over when she felt his lips brush against her skin as he said,

"Yes."

"I don't understand."

"Your pheromones, my dear, are running rampant again," he informed, though it seemed Sarah was unable to catch on.

"Um, ok."

"Do you remember our past discussion about the need to control these little, or not so little, outbursts?" he asked. Sarah gulped.

"You mean lessons," she said, gravely. Jareth nodded, but otherwise seemed to be becoming more and more distracted.

"Jareth, I-"

"Sarah. The most important part of court life is learning how to control they way you communicate. Aside from sexual arousal, it would seem you blossom from any means of stimulation. As wonderful as that is, this simply will not do, and something must be done about it." Sarah's body became as stiff as a plank.

"What do you intend to do?" she asked. Jareth stopped, and straightened himself before her.

"I'm going to teach you how to control yourself," he stated. Sarah glanced off to the side, growing extremely uncomfortable with where this conversation was heading. She remembered the last time he tried to help her wrangle in her hormones.

"...How, do you plan on doing that, exactly?" she asked, timidly.

"Let's play a game."


	34. Rhetoric, part 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While unbeknown to her, Sarah has succeeded in obtaining the one thing the Goblin King has desired for hundreds of years -power over the Labyrinth. After being hidden for years from his diabolical wrath, Sarah finds herself alone and vulnerable as Jareth's dark desires are finally aloud to rear their ugly heads. As always, the only question is, are things really as they seem?

Sarah's entire aura shifted so dramatically it was like there was a snap in the air. Her body grew tense and her eyes widened. She did not want to hear those words.

"What?" she asked, appalled. Jareth shifted.

"I already explained to you how to go about exerting your excess of pheromones. Once that happens, it will be easier for you to manage."

"I-I don't-"

"There isn't much room for option in this, Sarah. You must learn how to interact with others. Now, as Fae, we are born with the ability to control what and how much we output, but as a human, you must be taught. Contrary to what you might think, this isn't an excuse to take advantage of you. Because, if you haven't figured it out yet, I don't need an excuse to take advantage of you." He tried to be as rational as possible. Her understanding and possible acceptance of this would make everything go a whole lot smoother, though it was hard for him, in his hazy state, to omit some of the more -carnal- enticements that came along with it. "Though...I can assure you, there is room for much enjoyment, should you open up to it."

Sarah's gaze had lowered as he spoke, sinking further and further down into the black pit of her subconscious. It wasn't the idea of Jareth touching her again that made her so upset, but the horribleness of that night in general. She didn't know if she could handle another night like that.

"I...I don't want to play that game," she said, breathy and sounding oh so far away. Jareth leaned down then, cupping her face with his hands and pulling her back up to face him. When their eyes met, she was surprised to find his gaze fierce and focused, no longer languid and glazed.

"No. A different game," he said, making Sarah furrow her brow on him. Her silence urged him to continue. "I'd like to play a different game, one in which we both know _all_ of the rules," he said, and paused to make sure she was taking it all in. It was obvious the night in question still weighed heavy on both their minds. "How about this, I will tell you how to control your pheromone level, and then I will test you. If you can successfully hold back, I will not touch you for the remainder of the night." His eyes and voice were as clear as crystal. "But, if you cannot, if you slip up even once, you have to let me pleasure you up to five times." -Now that got a rise from Sarah's brow. "We'll do this every night, in hopes that you will catch on quickly and before long the game will turn in your favor."

Sarah watched him as he spoke, suspicious and yet hopeful. His terms seemed clear, and it didn't seem like he was trying to trick her. He wanted her to like this, which meant he _had_ to be sincere. Hm...he was just full of propositions today.

"I can't sense my own pheromones. How do I know you won't cheat and say I fail when I really didn't?" she asked.

"I suppose you don't. You'll just have to take my word for it." She huffed at him.

"That seems pretty sketchy to me." Jareth's gaze hardened just a tad.

"Sketchy or not, you'll have to make due with the promise that I will not lie. The point of this is to train you, it would be counterproductive to manipulate you otherwise. And besides, I may have my tricks, but I have never gone back on my word."

"And what if I say no?" she asked. Jareth took a deep breath.

"Let me put it this way. These lessons will happen, one way or another. I am merely trying to offer you a way in which you might enjoy it. Should you refuse, I will be forced to find another, less favorable, means of going about the issue," he said, with some warning. Sarah pursed her lips. There was really no getting out of this. She could say no. She could try to fight him off. But he was right...it would happen, one way or another. She glanced away and started to fidget. Why was everything so awkward today? At least the last time Jareth fondled her, it happened by surprise. But now, they were talking about it preemptively, premeditating the action. She wasn't comfortable with this. Not at all. She was being forced into giving Jareth permission to have his way with her -even if it was somewhat necessary...

"I'll even go easy on you, the first night. So, how about it? Do you accept?" he asked. Sarah thought another moment, plagued with the knowledge that she only really had one answer. But was that really so bad? He was trying accommodate her. This wasn't like last time, where he used it as a weapon out of anger and spite. And he did make her feel good...not that she would openly admit that. She peered her eyes up at him as she weighed his challenge. Challenge? No...this wasn't a challenge. It wasn't. He wasn't being domineering, he wasn't trying to win or prove a point. And that was all that had really upset her in the first place, wasn't it? She was upset that he had used her, upset at his lack of intimacy and -coldness. But...maybe it didn't have to be like that. Her eyes seemed to narrow as she regarded him, regarded the shrewdness she wanted to see, along with the expectant patience that actually met her. She tried, not as hard as she wanted to, to see him in a different light. He'd been very nice to her since that night. Maybe he actually was sorry? Her gaze lowered from his eyes down the rest of him and caught on the V of his shirt. This whole worn-out-bed-head look was good for him. Hmm.

"I can't really say no, and have it mean anything, now can I?" she said. Jareth cracked a smirk, but she continued on before he could say anything. "So fine, I accept," she added, with a with a shrug of forced indifference.

"Don't sound so eager," he replied, sarcastically, and took half a step back, raking his eyes down her before speaking. "Shall we start now?" he asked.

"Can I take a shower first?" He smiled then.

"No." She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest.

"Ok then. Have at it." His grin curled at her display of attitude, though he stopped himself from making any snide rebut and simply took a step towards her.

"Very well. Close your eyes," he commanded, softly. Sarah glared. "I said, _close your eyes_." He annunciated his words the second time around. She tried not to gruff and did as he said. "Good. Now, I want you to pay attention to everything I tell you, do you understand?"

"Yea, I get it," she snapped, impatiently. It was a good thing she had her eyes closed or he might have made some kind of reaction.

"Controlling your body is a purely mental process that is honed and developed through time and extensive practice. You must train your mind to be constantly aware and constantly on guard."

"And how do I do that, exactly?" she asked, raising an obnoxious eyebrow at him, though keeping her eyes screwed shut. Jareth tilted his head slightly as he watched her.

"I want you to clear your mind. Every thought, every distraction, push it out. When you are clear of thought, I want you to envision yourself standing in the middle of a room, a vast, white room, with no walls, no floor, and no ceiling." Sarah started to wriggle her brow.

"Wouldn't it stop being a room if there's no walls, floor or ceiling? I think what you're referring to is a void," she inferred.

"Is that a thought? I thought I told you to push those away," he teased. She huffed through her nose and drew up her shoulders a bit and pouted as she tried to do as she was told. How was she supposed to clear her mind? How was she supposed to push away everything that had been buzzing around in her head nonstop the past week? Let alone distraction?! -Jareth being the total epitome of the word distraction. And she had to focus on him, how could she push him out? She began to grow frustrated and instead tried to focus on this white room thing. Hm, maybe he meant something like a happy place? A white room was anything but her happy place. Ugh.

After another moment or two of grumbling, she finally settled in and, surprisingly, cleared her mind (as best she could) and saw herself standing alone in a white void. She let out a low exhale.

"Are you ready?" he asked. She nodded. "Good. Now, I want you to envision your pheromones as tangible objects. Give them shape, color, movement. Make them real, and see them moving around you." Sarah scrunched her brow as he told her this, but tried to do as he said. "You and I both know that pheromones, smells, auras, are just chemicals and the signals are what our brains register them as. Turning them into physical objects will grant you the ability to manipulate them in a way that is more recognizable to you," he explained, and again she nodded. "Alright, now, I want you to envision a door standing in front of you. I want you to look at it, examine its every detail. Zoom in on it and memorize it. I want you to see and know every little detail, down to the pattern of wood grain and the tarnish on the handle. I want you to take a moment to do this, and let me know when you're ready." Sarah seemed to find herself immersing further and further into her void. She saw colors and tendrils and ribbons flowing around her. She saw a door; it as big and tall and made of a rich red wood. She saw its carvings and the metal detail and the glossy shine of the varnish. She focused so hard on it that it seemed to grow and loom over her. She let out another breath and nodded. "Now, I want you to envision everything around you, all the color and energy and anything you see, being shut behind that door." As soon as he spoke, it was like her mind had fallen to his whim. She exhaled deeply, feeling suddenly relaxed and relieved when all of the ribbons and tendrils suddenly vanished. She couldn't see, but she knew they were waiting just beyond the door.

"Sarah," Jareth said, tugging on her attention. The slight twitch of her eyebrows told him she was listening. "I want you to listen, because what I am about to tell you is very important," he said, slowly. "You must be aware that this door is closed, but it is not locked. It is your job to hold it shut, and to only open it when you want it to," he said, and she almost gasped when she felt one of her hands being pulled from the twist she had them in across her chest. She didn't open her eyes, but could feel Jareth's hands lightly taking one of hers. She felt his fingers gently brush against hers, her skin now sensitive and hyper-attentive. And she felt the warmth of his skin as he placed her hand, flat palm, against his chest. He took hold of her wrist with one hand, while covering her hand with the other and secured it there. He pressed down, forcing her hand to apply pressure against his heart and moved it around in a tiny circle. She gulped at this, not anticipating that she would react so feverishly, that she would react at all. She could feel his heart beat beneath her hand in a slow and steady rhythm. "Place your hand on the door. Feel it against you. Make it real. Feel the force of your hand as you hold it closed, and the force of what you keep locked behind it," he said, in barely more than a whisper, and locked his gaze hard on her face. He paused, observing the way her eyes twitched beneath their lids. "Do you feel it?" he asked. She seemed to wince then, as if struggling. She wanted to say yes, but instead of a door, all she could feel or envision was Jareth's chest. This was not good. But she got what he was trying to do, and shoo'd away her thoughts and focused, with all her might, at the task at hand. Finally, she bit her lip and nodded.

"Yes."

"Good. Now, this is the level of mental awareness you must keep yourself in at all times. The door will not stay closed unless you hold it. It will only open when you want it to. Focus on this until it becomes second nature. Do you understand?" he asked, and rose a brow slightly when he felt her hand start to push against him of its own volition.

"Yeah, I think I get it," she answered, and shifted back when she felt a force press against her hand. She stumbled against the dresser as Jareth stepped forward and leaned into her. She felt his hand tighten around hers and felt his breath against her cheek as he whispered in her ear,

"Now I want you to open your eyes, but remember to keep the door closed," he whispered, and kissed her cheek. He moved, and ran his tongue along her ear, lightly and teasingly pressing his lips down the side of her neck. Sarah shivered and reflexively tried pulling her hand away from his chest, but he held it in place. "Focus," he whispered, and only released her hand once he was sure she wouldn't remove it. Then he lowered his hands and grasped the back on her thighs, tugging her up and sitting her on the dresser in one swift, much too sudden, movement.

Sarah tried not to gasp. She tried not to react. She tried not to do anything but keep that damn door closed. She found herself grimacing, screwing her eyes shut as tight as they would go, and was left unable to act against Jareth nestling himself between her legs. He pulled his face from her neck and brushed his thumbs across her cheeks.

"I said, eyes open."

Slowly, wincingly, Sarah opened her eyes one at a time. She gulped, and found her hand trembling against his chest. His eyes were intense, much too intense for her to deal with, so she stared passed him. She needed to quit this, stop being so nervous. Jareth had told her what to do, and now she needed to do it. If she could, if she could do this, he would leave her alone. That alone was enough motivation to send her focus into overdrive. She schooled her breathing and steadied herself, completely indifferent to the position Jareth had put her in.

Jareth leaned in again. Only, instead of drifting towards her ear, he hovered his lips but a mere centimeter from hers. His eyes were hooded, and a sly little smile curled his lips. His hands gripped the rim of the dresser, holding her prisoner.

"Do you have any idea what I would do, to get you to kiss me like that again?" he asked, oh-so-salaciously. In any other, normal, circumstances, Sarah would have melted into a puddle at his feet.

Sarah's ears tensed.

"No. And I don't want to," she bit out. His hands moved to splay around her thighs.

"Why not? You could draw quite a bargain." She could feel his fingers spidering up her legs.

"Because. If I started using consensual kisses as leverage, they would lose their potency right quick." She tried, very adamantly, to remain cool and collected, maybe even sassy. She'd find out how well that worked for her. Jareth smiled, his lips just barely touching hers. She could feel his breath against her.

"I don't think anything could make your mouth any less potent," he said, and, against her preparation, kissed her, so sweet and chaste, that she was wondering who this creature was and what it had done with Jareth.

His hands gripped the junction of her thighs and squeezed, forcing her legs to press against his hips, while his smile moved to kiss down her jaw. All the while, Sarah's mental self was pushing against that damn door with all her might.

"I like you dressed this way. It brings back...memories."

"Yes. Unpleasant ones."

He laughed against her neck.

"Your body glows in the light. And your skin tastes of both the sun and heaven. I wish I had kissed you then, like in your dream. I should have," he said, lightly kissing, tenderly licking, not wanting nor trying to conceal the pleasure he found in tasting and savoring her like she was nothing more than a big juicy steak. Sarah gulped.

His hands started to roam again, molding to the contours of her hips and waist. He sucked on the crook of her neck, and rose a hand to engulf and caress her shoulder.

"You're wet," he said, mimicking their first encounter on the track, a night that now seemed oh so long ago, and ran the tips of his free hand down her side and across the waist of her shorts. His touch was light and tentative, successful in his attempt to tease and taunt her senses, as well as her grip on the handle of her mental barricade. She rose her eyes to the ceiling. "I wish you knew how wonderful you smell. I wish you knew what it does to me, to Roldan and Davion. If you knew, you would crave it as much as we do." A shiver ran down Sarah's spine at that, but she tried to ignore it. It felt as though mad beasts were pounding against the door, but she realized it was just the thump of his heartbeat. He wasn't messing around with this whole seduction thing. She needed to stay focused.

Suddenly, or maybe she just hadn't been paying close enough attention, Jareth's head moved from her shoulder, and his hands from her waist. He pulled the hair tie from her hair and buried his hands in it, pulling her in as he kissed her. Sarah whimpered in surprise, but kept her cool. She didn't reciprocate. She didn't do anything at all. Jareth sucked on her lower lip and, after a moment to savor, pulled back to rest his forehead against hers.

"Your kiss is the most delicious thing I have ever tasted. I want more. I crave it and I will have it," he said, or rather decreed. Sarah took in a sharp breath and tore her eyes from his. She had nowhere else to look, so she closed her eyes again, focusing on keeping the door closed. She had no idea what she was doing, but Jareth hadn't stopped yet, which meant she had to be doing something right. She wondered how much longer this would continue, and just how far he would go.

"No, you won't," she bit out, but only scowled when she heard him start laughing. She peeped an eye open.

"Keep your eyes open, Sarah. You won't have the luxury of closing your eyes to concentrate when in a public setting," he lectured. And so, she fluttered them open. That's when his thumbs began to stroke her cheeks. "And besides, your eyes are too beautiful to be hidden behind a scowl," he said, and the total bullshit level of fluffy sweetness he was bestowing on her nearly sent her over the edge. But there was a voice in the back of her head saying that this was all an act, he was trying to trip her up. No, she wouldn't fall for it. Too much was on the line. If she could do this tonight, then tomorrow and the next night and the night after that would only be easier for her, right? And then he wouldn't molest her. At all. And that was a good thing. ...Right?


	35. Rhetoric, part 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While unbeknown to her, Sarah has succeeded in obtaining the one thing the Goblin King has desired for hundreds of years -power over the Labyrinth. After being hidden for years from his diabolical wrath, Sarah finds herself alone and vulnerable as Jareth's dark desires are finally aloud to rear their ugly heads. As always, the only question is, are things really as they seem?

"You're really laying it on thick, aren't you?" she asked, haughtily. Jareth smirked.

"Laying on what, exactly? You think I'm not whole-hearted when I say you are a beauty rare to this world?" he asked. Sarah tried not to fret. Usually, when boys piled on the compliments it just got irritating, but with Jareth...she wasn't sure, but it seemed his admiration was something she greatly desired. She recognized this as truth in a nanosecond and quickly became disgusted with it. She wanted so much from him, and there was absolutely zero reason for her to want anything from him.

"Um, no. I doubt that I am rare in any world." She grew slightly confused when he began to chuckle.

"You weren't lying when you said you don't like to be pounded with flattery," he said, and it took her a minute to remember what in the world he was talking about. That's when the memory came back, of the day she was taken. She was talking to Jared (or rather, Jareth pretending to be Jared) and she'd told him she didn't like to be, quote, _pounded with flattery_. For some reason, she was surprised that he remembered that. And was also surprised with the sudden thought, or idea, that maybe the reason he wasn't overly complimentary was for that very reason. She found herself thinking back to all the times she was disappointed that he hadn't cared enough -like when he explained his reasons for wanting to marry her, and what he meant by saying he was getting to know her. She had hoped for more from him...was he holding back because he thought that was what she wanted? That train of thought seemed so absurd she almost laughed out loud at it. Jareth wasn't that sentimental. He also wasn't that dense.

"Flattery that is as transparent as water? No," she said, committing to her firm resolve. Jareth moved his hands to hold her neck.

"Oh, so you prefer something that is more devout then?"

"Most people do." He huffed with a reflex of laughter, then leaned down and kissed the spot behind her ear.

"I don't hand out endearments that are undeserved, and that is the most endearing endearment I can give you," he said, and for as clinical a fashion in which he said it, the way his words reverberated through her tingling skin couldn't have been more profound. He started to suck at her neck, as his hands became more active by moving to wrap about her thighs again. She could feel his thumbs nearing her groin, and bit her lip in the effort to remain in control. He inhaled deeply, and tentatively brushed one of his thumbs over her center. "Tell me, Sarah, am I having any affect on you?" he asked, with a light quirk of highhandedness that was breaching the realm of tantalization to encroach on that of the erotic. She closed her eyes again, feeling her mental strength fading fast, but was granted divine mercy when Jareth then smiled, brushing this thumb over her one more time, and began pulling away from her completely. She opened her eyes, and let out a small breath of relief. He stared her down for a moment, knowing she clung to the edge. "Hm, you're doing very well," he said, and then proceeded to turn and walk away from her.

_Wait- Wha? Is that it? We're done? I won? I won!_

Sarah couldn't help but beam at the back of Jareth's head as she tried to realize that, not only had she won, but that Jareth in fact had not cheated. She couldn't believe it. That was so...bearable. But, then again, he had said he would go easy on her tonight. _Pfff, so what. I won! _And that was something to celebrate. Her mind came back to her to find him a few steps away.

"Wait -I did it then? I won?" she asked, just for clarification sake. He turned back and threw her a smirk over his shoulder.

"Oh, now you're excited," he said, sarcastically, and continued to walk away. Sarah hopped down from the dresser, feeling so invigorated and dare she say -giddy- something which soon dimmed when she realized he was still walking away from her.

"Are you leaving?" she asked, not quite sure why she was disappointed. He stopped and turned to face her.

"I've had a rather trying day. I thought I might share your company for dinner."

Sarah blinked at him, momentarily thrown off. Hmm, well that was surely different. Usually, he just kicked back and gave her some snarky comment about how she really didn't have any say in the matter. But what happened just now was actually somewhat...polite. She pursed her lips at him, and crossed her arms to help hide her midriff as she approached him.

"Ok, then can I go take a shower now?" she asked. Jareth looked over her, and looked somewhat saddened by what he saw.

"If you must," he said, and she didn't need a starting gun or a green flag to send her racing off into the bathroom.

* * *

Sarah waded in the warm waters of her bath, deeply wishing she had a shower head instead. It was nice to scrub off the grime, but that was almost irrelevant since all it meant was that she was now sitting in a tub full of grimy water. But, she couldn't really complain, she did have every manner of scrubber, soap, and oil she could possibly dream of. And thanks, rather begrudgingly, to Jareth, she no longer had to worry about disinfecting her knee. She hugged her knees and gucked at the water, still unable to believe he actually did that. For some reason, she found it so skeevy. _Ew and he kissed me afterwards! UGH! _She openly grimaced then, not having realized it at the time. _How disgusting is that?_ She splashed the water in frustration, and glared around the bathroom.

"He's doing this on purpose..." she murmured out loud, scanning her eyes suspiciously around the room. All day, and even yesterday, he'd been acting so nice and charming. She hated it. He was making her like him when she really didn't want to. It was all a part of his plan, she knew it. A part of his plan to make her "succumb to his charms". Well fat chance that was going to happen. She growled at her reflection in the water. She was always at odds with him. When he was mean she wanted him to be nice, and when he was nice she wanted him to be mean. But, even so, it was nice to be able to get along with him rather than cower in fear. And it seemed he was at least trying to be considerate after that whole episode the other night. "Rrrrrrgggggghhhhh," she grumbled, and sank beneath the water.

She came out with a towel wrapped firmly around her, and forced herself not to seek out Jareth's whereabouts as she b-lined it to the pile of clothing she had already laid out on her bed. She took it, and went back inside. The second time she came out, she was dressed in a pair of sleep shorts and a T-shirt. She was starting to get the hang of this whole magic dresser thing, and although everything was still in Underground fashion, it was more to her Aboveground tastes. She saw Jareth lounging on the couch and joined him in one of the opposing chairs. He was staring into a crystal, and by the look on his face it wasn't a happy sight. She waited to see if he would break the silence, and spoke up when he didn't.

"So...you said something about dinner?" she quirked, fiddling with her toes as she sat with her knees pulled up in the chair. Jareth peered up out of the corner of his eye, briefly taking in her apparel, then looked away.

"I believe so. Are you hungry?" he asked, shifting to prop his boots up on the coffee table.

"Yes, starving actually. Can I pick?" she asked, earning herself a raised eyebrow from Jareth, who, on one hand, seemed intrigued by her fervor, but on the other, looked like he couldn't have cared less. She didn't wait for an answer, and hopped up to retrieve her little bell on the dining table. She brought it back with her, and sat back down, ringing it before placing it on the coffee table.

"So, aside from your tumble, how was your day?" he asked. Sarah peered up.

"Um, good, I guess. It was nice to get outside and run."

"Hm, yes. The fresh air does seem to have lightened your mood," he said, though she was pretty sure he meant it only to himself. She ignored it and shifted in her seat, watching him as he gazed off at nothing. She didn't mind her blatant staring tonight; she felt more confident knowing she won tonight's round. She thought about asking how his day went, and then remembered something.

"How was your day? Did anything...bad happen?" she asked. Jareth quirked her a brow.

"Bad? No, I would say not." Sarah pursed her lips at him. She just couldn't figure out what the hell was up with Roldan. She knew something had happened, something to make Roldan nervous. And he thought it was between she and Jareth? But it couldn't have been. Hmm... She looked down to his shirt, and asked,

"What's all that red stuff on your shirt?" But before he could answer, a Goblin came scurrying in with their food.

It set the tray before Sarah, effectively distracting her, and no sooner dashed away. Jareth started to sit up, curious as to why she seemed to grow more excited all of the sudden. She moved to sit on her knees on the floor and removed the lid. At first, Jareth wasn't sure what he was seeing.

"What is that?" he asked. Sarah looked up to him with a smile. And in that split second, that little smile, with her damp hair, sitting on the floor beside the fire in her nightwear, he thought he'd just been given a glimpse of the heaven his future might hold. It was a brief moment, one gone in the blink of an eye, but he treasured it.

"It's Chinese food, duh," she said, mockingly, and began arranging all her various entrees. Jareth continued to look puzzled. She grinned again and waved him down. It was just like breakfast. Hilarious. At her gesture, he moved to join her on the floor. "Here, these are some of my favorites," she said, and handed him a plate. Jareth took it, not bothering to ask what it was, and watched as she reached for a pair of chopsticks. She peered up then, sensing his eyes on her. "Oh, these are chopsticks. I don't really know how to use them, but I find it fun to try. You might just wanna use a fork," she informed him, and proceeded to struggle. Jareth watched her with slight bewilderment, wondering why, if she knew she couldn't do it, persisted in making a mockery of her meal. He closed his eyes and shook his head, trying not to laugh as she tried to pick up a scoop of rice, only to have it trickle back down to her plate.

As Sarah fumbled with her food, she wondered why in the hell she didn't feel more awkward. Surely after that afternoon's kiss, and that evening's...whatever you called it, she should be...more on guard? Have more on her mind? But no. She didn't. She wasn't worried at all. She just felt...good. And that was good. She really felt like she was turning a new leaf with this whole giving the Underground a chance thing. So she chose to leave it be, and not worry about not worrying. She grinned as she ate.

"You're smiling again."

She peered up to find Jareth watching her eat -like always.

"I think I've seen you smile more today than in the entire time I've known you."

She tried not to blanch at that and tore her eyes away from him.

"Oh yea? Why, have you been counting?" she asked, jokingly.

"Maybe," he murmured. She peered up to him again, but he had looked away, deciding (for perhaps the first time ever) to focus on his food instead of her. "This is good," he said, thankfully.

"Yea...I'm surprised you haven't had more Aboveground cuisine."

"I may travel there frequently, but my visits are anything but extended."

"So...earlier...about what you said...you don't kidnap humans? What do you do in the Aboveground then?" she asked.

"I do...other things. Sometimes business. Sometimes not." His answer seemed ominous to her for obvious reasons. She narrowed her eyes on him.

"Sometimes not? What does that mean, exactly?" she asked. Jareth twirled a noodle around his fork.

"Oh, I think you know," he said, with just a smidgen of snark.

"Hmm," was all she said, and turned away, not wanting to let him get a rise out of her -something which he was obviously trying to do.

"Why do you ask?" Sarah shrugged.

"More of my morbid curiosity, I guess." Jareth laughed to himself. "What?" He started shaking his head.

"Nothing..." She started to turn her glare away when his voice faded, but turned it back when he started speaking again, "The plans for the Sulu renovations are nearly finalized."

"Oh yea?"

"Yes. I thought that maybe, at some point, you would like to accompany me to oversee construction. It would be a good opportunity for you to explore more of the kingdom, as well as present yourself to some of our more outstretched subjects." Sarah perked up in her spot on the floor. He looked down at his plate as he spoke, keeping his voice sterile and completely neutral, but to her, it sounded like he was offering her a trip to Disney Land.

"Really? That would be great!" she said, the level of energy in her voice drawing his gaze. She settled back down once their eyes met.

"I'm glad you agree," he said, sounding somewhat bewildered by her fervor. She didn't care. She was feeling good, and she wasn't about to let her awkwardness for Jareth take that away.

"When will we be going?" she asked, turning back to her plate.

"In a month or two. Construction won't take very long. Goblins can be very determined workers."

"Why don't you just use magic to fix it?"

"Because I manage an economy, remember?"

"Oh...yeah."

They spent the rest of their dinner in relative silence. One of them would speak up every now and then, but Sarah was more comfortable since the silence was no longer awkward. Once their plates were gone, Sarah decided on a topic of discussion. She'd been talking with Roldan about the different areas of the kingdom, and had garnered a few questions here and there. This led to questions about Davion, or more specifically, the Northern Kingdom and the massive stack of quotas she had seen Jareth combing through the previous night. This lead to Jareth's explanation of the various franchises the north offered, and inevitably, talk of the massive forest fire that had wiped out much of the front that spring. Strangely, and ironically, this brought something totally different to Sarah's mind. She watched the fire as they talked, and the combination brought back something she'd been dying to do for a while now.

Completely ignoring Jareth, she scooted away from the coffee table and sat by the fire, taking her bell with her. She sat Indian-style, with her back to him, and rang the bell. Jareth watched.

"You're hungry again?" he asked, bemused. She glanced back over her shoulder.

"I eat a lot, remember?" she said, dismissively, and turned back to the fire. It wasn't long until Jareth joined her. Another Goblin appeared, with another trademark tray, and left just as quickly.

"What have you conjured now?" he asked. Sarah ignored him, and took off the lid. Again, Jareth had no idea what he was looking at.

"Don't tell me you've never heard of s'mores before?" she asked, somewhat rhetorically. Jareth merely rose his brow at her. She rolled her eyes away and stabbed a couple marshmallows onto the end of a fire-poker. "I've been wanting to do this for a while now. Usually, I only have s'mores when I go camping, which is once a year, if I'm lucky. But since I have this fireplace, I can have 'em whenever I want," she explained, and it did not go unchecked by Jareth that this was the first time Sarah had offered up information about her Aboveground life without it being full of hatred and resentment towards him. He observed with curiosity as she held the metal rod over the fire.

It was silent again, but Sarah didn't mind. The crackle of the fire was enough sound for her, as she was just enjoying the fact that she didn't have to keep her guard up tonight. It was like a huge weight had been lifted off her shoulders, not having to worry about whether or not Jareth would flip switches and lunge at her. No, he was keeping true to his word, keeping a healthy distance and minding his everything. She waited until her mallows turned to fireballs before pulling them out and blowing out the flame.

"Some people like them toasted, but I like mine charred," she said, and engaged in the process of making both she and Jareth a chocolatey, gram-crackery, marshmallowy sandwich. She held it out to him, but he was hesitant to take it. "What? It's good," she said, though he continued to look skeptical. Finally, he gave in to her glare and plucked it from her hand, though now he resigned to hold it as if he were examining a science project. Sarah shook her head and rolled her eyes. "You put it in your mouth and eat it. But watch out, they're messy," she said, and took a bite of her own. Melted marshmallow oozed every which way. Jareth watched her with intrigue as she fumbled to cover her mouth and clear the mess. She wiped her mouth of crumbs and sucked on her fingers, oblivious to Jareth leaning over towards her. When she looked up, it was too late.

He'd leaned in, much too far. Her eyes were wide and her brow was drawn tight, not a very flattering expression given that she was pretty sure her face was still covered in chocolate. There was a light in his eye, or maybe that was just the fire, and his lips had curled on one end. He reached up and brushed his thumb along the corner of her mouth. He pulled it back and sucked on it. Sarah's eyes widened some more, causing his grin to stretch. He smiled at her something wicked, then leaned back, without a word, turned his gaze towards the fire and bit into his own s'more, continuing to grin wickedly at the flickering flames.

* * *


	36. Rhetoric, part 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While unbeknown to her, Sarah has succeeded in obtaining the one thing the Goblin King has desired for hundreds of years -power over the Labyrinth. After being hidden for years from his diabolical wrath, Sarah finds herself alone and vulnerable as Jareth's dark desires are finally aloud to rear their ugly heads. As always, the only question is, are things really as they seem?

Some time passed. Sarah wasn't sure how much, but she'd had her fill of food for the night and was pretty sure she'd just eaten back everything she'd worked off. Jareth hadn't eaten anything more than the first s'more she made him, and had spoken even less. She didn't care, not one bit. When she finally drew her gaze from the fire, she noticed it was pitch black outside. This startled her, having not even started all the readings Roldan had assigned her. She looked down to her toes and was about to groan, but held back on Jareth's account. She glanced back and saw it was somewhere around ten. Not good. She covered the tray and placed it on the coffee table; at some point, a Goblin had come and taken the other, so she assumed it wouldn't be long before it came back for this one. She wondered how they knew.

With that on her mind, she stood and snuggled herself into the corner of the couch, next to her pile of books waiting on the end table. Jareth had turned to look back at her movement and soon moved to sit on the opposite end of the couch. It was strange -his behavior. Earlier he was normal, but now...it seemed like there was something on his mind. The way he stared out at the fire, his look was intense and borderline unpleasant, and the way he just seemed to be following her around -it was...worrying. She thought to ask, but didn't. She curled her knees up and peeled open the binding of the first book instead. It crinkled and popped, bits of dust falling into her lap. She took a deep breath and dove in.

She wasn't really sure if she expected Jareth to take some kind of interest in what she was doing, but he didn't. He didn't ask why she was reading, or what. He just stared -like always. And again, it seemed as though he had something pressing on his mind. She tried not to pay any attention to it. She had to learn all this after all; Roldan had made a point of it that she figure out why the coronation of King Ruben of Yore was so important. She'd managed to read through the first book with no problem, moving onto the second and even third, but that was when she ran into some trouble. This book, just so happened to be written in old world calligraphy. She'd been reading the same page for about ten minutes now, and had made no headway. She was starting to grow frustrated, and wouldn't admit that that was partially due to Jareth's continued silence.

"Are you having trouble?" he asked, and she had to hold herself back from glaring up at him. _All this time he's just sat there staring at me and now he speaks?_

"You could say that," she muttered.

"What are you reading?" he asked.

"I have no freaking clue."

"Then why are you reading it?"

She turned and gave in to glare at him this time.

"Because I have to." Jareth looked ...confused.

"Why?"

"Because I have a test on this on Friday," she answered. Jareth just continued to look more and more perplexed. Sarah huffed and rolled her eyes. "Roldan's been assigning me freaking homework every night. I'm up to my neck in dusty old books."

"Really? He's giving you homework?" he asked, his lips stretching into a cheeky smile. Apparently, there was something greatly amusing about that.

"Yea, in case you were wondering why I've been reading all these stupid books," she said, obviously exasperated. Jareth sat up a little bit.

"Actually, I thought you were just interested in reading -given your interest in theater. I can't see what books you have from here, and I know there is a great collection of Aboveground fiction in my library. I thought that perhaps you had stumbled upon it," he explained, which in the end made total sense to her. She pursed her lips at him, annoyed that she couldn't be angry.

"I didn't know you had books from the Aboveground," was all she said. What she really wanted to ask, was why he was being so quiet tonight. Jareth shifted up a little more.

"I have any book you could possibly seek out."

"Hm, I'll keep that in mind," she said, and turned her attention back to her book.

"What is it Roldan is having you read up on?" he asked. Sarah peered out of the corner of her eye, suspicious of whether or not he actually cared.

"Why? Do you think you can help?"

"Probably not," he said, with a smile. She couldn't help but crack a smirk in return.

"I'm reading about the formation of the kingdom of Yore, and why that is important to the Goblin Kingdom," she stated. Jareth hummed as if he understood, but didn't really say much more. He shifted up, and scooted until he sat beside her. His body was angled towards her, with one leg bent on the couch so he could lean towards her. One of his arms wrapped around the back of the couch as he leaned, caging her in. She tried not to grow too stiff as he brought his head level with hers. She watched him out of the corner of her eye, and saw him smirk as his eyes scanned her page.

"Hm, I must admit, Roldan is being much more thorough than I would have thought. He makes a much better teacher than I," he said, with some praise it seemed. Sarah tried to huddle into herself and avoid touching him, something that was nearly impossible to do. He brought his free hand to trace along the worn page of her book. "I can help you translate this, if you'd like," he offered.

"Um, I can do it. It's just hard to understand the handwriting." Jareth smirked again.

"Sarah, not only is this written in medieval calligraphy, but it's in French. Or have you not noticed?" he asked, and gave her an amused eye. Sarah scowled and stuck her face nose deep into the text. No way. Was that really why she was having such a hard time? Wow, maybe she was getting tired, or maybe she was just too distracted to notice. "Roldan is knowledgeable in many things, but to him western Aboveground languages are all one in the same," he said, and ran the tip of his index finger down the page. Sarah watched as the text began to shift and morph in its wake. She started to flip through the pages and saw that the entire book was now written in English and in a visually relaxing typed font.

"Um, thank you. This helps a lot," she said, trying not to sound too grateful, yet not too unappreciative.

"How much more do you have to go through?" he asked.

"Um...I think I only have two more books after this."

"All to find out why Yore is important? I knew Roldan was a bit anal but..." She peered up to him as he spoke, hiding her amusement. She could see the pale blue of his irises, and examined the stark markings around his eyes. She wondered if they were just make-up, or something more. Roldan didn't have them, nor Davion. She was about to ask this when he spoke up. "Don't tell Roldan, but I'll help you cheat, just this once." Sarah quirked a brow at him. "King Ruben was originally one of the more prominent lords under the High King. After his death, there was much feuding between the districts, as they were referred to at that time. Yore originally encompassed a large share of what is now the Goblin Kingdom. Ruben, eager to gain alliance to secure his own thrown, found cooperation with Lord Exelion -ruler of what would later be known as the Goblin Kingdom. A strong warrior and strategist, Exelion proved to be Ruben's most vital aid, and as reward, was granted a portion of land from Ruben's kingdom, or Yore, and so the boundary was drawn. This is significant because the land acquired from Yore borders the Athom Sea, which, as was later discovered, was hiding a great deal of oil and mineral deposits beneath it's surface. These additional resources helped increase Exelion's power during those early years, or Dark Ages. It is believed that without having that oil to trade and fuel our industry, the Goblin Kingdom may have fallen to other invading parties, such as Erastor and early Meyhaven. And since it was King Ruben who had given us this land, he is commemorated as an essential part of the Goblin Kingdom's history and continued success."

Sarah stared open-mouth as Jareth spoke. _Wow. Someone knows their history. Well, I guess that's expected of a King._ As she digested everything he said, she realized, once again, that there was just so much history to this place. SO MUCH. And she wanted to know it, all of it. But, she quickly realized, she would much rather have Jareth tell her stories than be quizzed on these stuffy old books. Soon, she found herself gawking awkwardly, noticing that Jareth had stopped talking moments ago and she was still just staring. She also noticed how close they were, and that his arm was still wrapped around the back of the couch. She knew this move. This was what teenage boys did when they took a girl to a movie. She turned away and looked down to her book.

"Well, thank you, that helps. But I'm sure he's going to ask me a bunch of really specific questions that I would only know if I actually read." She didn't see him smirk.

"So what?" he asked. She looked back to him. "So what if he asks you questions you can't answer. What's he going to do, fail you?" he asked, but she couldn't figure out if he was being sarcastic or not.

"Um...aren't I supposed to learn and do well? Wouldn't that be passing his tests as well?" she asked, skeptically.

"Yes, but I can assure you, you will be able to get by without knowing a few minor details here or there." She narrowed her eyes on him.

"You didn't do very well in school, did you?" she asked, suspiciously.

"Why do you say that?"

"Because. You seem like the rebellious type who'd rather toss their book out the tenth story window than actually open it." His smile grew then, like a Cheshire Cat.

"I'll have you know, I excelled in all of my academics."

Sarah pursed her lips at him.

"Well good for you. Could you please not pester me so I can try to excel in mine?"

"I have a feeling you'll do just fine. I notice you have some geographical books over there, is there anything else you would like help with?" he asked, and stared blankly at the look of confused abhorrence Sarah shot at him. He rose an eyebrow at her. "What?"

"Why are you being so nice?" she asked, suspiciously. He furrowed his brow on her. "What do you want?" Jareth's furrowed brow was joined by a frown then.

"I wanted to help you. Do I need another reason?" There was a hint of offense in his voice, but just a hint.

"You usually do." His features started to harden.

"Casting me as the villain again, I see?" he said, and shifted to move away from her. His gaze lowered, and after reading his expression, did she realize what a huge mistake she'd just made.

"No- I'm, I'm sorry, Jareth. I didn't mean-" she tried and failed, repeatedly.

"Of course you did," he muttered and pushed away from her. "Don't fret, I'll leave you alone now," he said, sounding defeated and full of irritation. Sarah frowned. Shit. She felt bad. Really bad. Maybe he _was_ just being nice. Stupid.

"Wait, Jareth," she said, and almost reached out to him. "You don't have to leave." He stopped, and turned to give her an eye.

"Who said I was leaving? I'm merely leaving you alone," he said, and slouched back in the couch as he pouted. Sarah continued to frown at him, not knowing what she should or wanted to do, but wondering all the while why he didn't leave. And as she stared at him, glaring down at nothing, did his words come back to her: _You're not the only one who's alone, Sarah_. Was that why he always refused to leave? Because he'd rather be angry with her than alone? That was so sad. But -but wait a minute. Since when was this a pity party for Jareth? She shook her head, sick of being conflicted. In the end, she merely turned back to her book, while he brooded, though she continued to watch him out of the corner of her eye.

After a few minutes, he conjured a crystal. She couldn't see what he was looking at, but recognized his grave expression as the same one she'd seen on him earlier that evening. Hm.. She tried, with all her might, to tug her attention away from her guilt and back to her book. She'd managed to read a chapter or two, but it was no use. She closed the book slightly and looked over to Jareth. He was still staring intently at his crystal, but seemed to sense her stare.

"I think...today was rather pleasant, don't you?" he asked, sounding distracting and tense. Sarah drew her brow a bit.

"Uh, sure."

She saw him scowl then, and exhale through his nose as if conflicted with something. He sat up and moved towards her again, wrapping his arm around the back of her, resuming his posture of engulfing her into the corner of the couch. She waited for him to say something.

"I've been thinking..." he started, but stopped. Sarah waited for him to pick back up on his own. "about your behavior, and about the other night." Sarah started to tense, not sure where this conversation was going. "You've been acting very well these past couple of days," he said, and looked up to meet her in the eye, she tried not to blanch. "I'd like to give you something." Sarah furrowed her brow, mildly confused and concerned. He seemed to be struggling with this. This wasn't like him.

"Um, ok," she answered, recalling his sentiment that, not only if she misbehaved would she be punished, but if she behaved, she would be rewarded. Is that what this was? She waited, anxious and admittedly excited. An unsure Jareth was something of intrigue. He rose the crystal in his hand, causing her to look down at it.

"I've been thinking of what you said. You know...I know, I cannot give it to you. Not right now. But I made you a promise, and like I said earlier, I never go back on my word. So, in the meantime, I'd like to offer you this...as a type of...gift, or peace offering, whatever you will," he said. Sarah's eyes started to widen.

"What is it?" she asked, growing increasingly hopeful by the second.

"It's...a dream," he said. Sarah tensed and look up into his eyes. His gaze was hard, but she could see it was because he was trying to cover up his uncertainty.

"A dream?" she repeated. Jareth sighed.

"I can't -I won't take you back. Though I told you that one day I would allow you to see them again. That was not a lie. But as I said, in the mean time, I would like you to have this."

"I don't understand. Why are you giving me a dream?"

"I thought that maybe, if you so wanted, if you ever felt like seeing them, you could have a place to go, and they would be there for you. If you hold this while you sleep, you'll be able to share your dreams, that way...you may still be with them, in some small form," he started to explain, and as he spoke, she slowly reached out and took it. He looked down on her as she examined it. "And what's more, I will not enter your head should you dream with this." Sarah's head shot up so fast it was like the end bit was the only part that actually mattered to her.

"What? Really?" she asked. Jareth lowered his gaze. "So...you're saying I can see them in my dreams? And it will be the real them? Not figments?" Jareth shook his head.

"Consider this my attempt at an apology," he added.

Sarah felt something warm start to burgeon from deep within her chest. Just the thought of being connected to her family again was enough to bring tears to her eyes. She gazed at the crystal, nearly humbled by it. She grinned down at her lap, unbelievably happy. He was being so generous. He didn't have to give her this. He didn't have to give her anything. And on top of it, he said he wouldn't interfere while she had it. She felt very warm and fuzzy all of the sudden, but wasn't sure how to go about. She looked up to him, and blinked the hot sting from her eyes.

"Thank you, Jareth. This means a lot to me."

"So you accept?" he asked, though it seemed he was referring more to his apology rather than his gift. Sarah bit her lip.

"Yes. Thank you," she said. He smiled.

"There, was that so hard?" he asked, playfully, bringing a full smile to her face and a very small laugh. If she didn't know any better, she would have said she felt bashful for some reason. He was being so nice today, so nice and...flirty and sweet. A part of her conscience whispered from the shadows that she should be suspicious of this. He was being ...too nice. Some of the pervy threat was still there, but the rest of it was almost out of character. But was she really not going to accept his kindness? How would that be beneficial? She was trying to build bridges after all...right? No, while there was something fishy to be said about his charm, she thought it rather pointless to be overtly suspicious of it. There couldn't possibly be motive for it, right? She was starting to over think all this. So what if he was being nice; that could only be a good thing. Surely there was no cause for concern.

She was wrong.

She lowered her gaze to her lap, but when she looked back up to him, she wasn't quite ready for what she saw.

He was already leaning into her, but had leaned in even further now. The hand wrapped around her had started to grip the arm of the couch, and his gaze on her was hot and unwavering. She looked up at him, all innocent-like, and slowly sank deep into the cushions when she saw his grin slowly stretch and then curl from ear to ear. Her eyes widened in intimidation.

He bore fang as he said,

"I win."

  



	37. Rhetoric, part 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While unbeknown to her, Sarah has succeeded in obtaining the one thing the Goblin King has desired for hundreds of years -power over the Labyrinth. After being hidden for years from his diabolical wrath, Sarah finds herself alone and vulnerable as Jareth's dark desires are finally aloud to rear their ugly heads. As always, the only question is, are things really as they seem?

Jareth's grin carved itself so wide, and his teeth became so sharp, Sarah was sure he would gobble her up within the next moment or two. His eyes became precise and severe, and the shadows his hair cast over his face seemed to darken with an aura that he had only just now permitted to be seen. Sarah's mouth dropped open as she fumbled with speech, and her wide, bemused little eyes only watched as he reached up and plucked the book from her hand, tossing it to the floor behind her, and then leisurely plucked the crystal from her other hand, and set it on the end table. He'd leaned in even closer to do this. Sarah pushed herself back into the couch as far as she could go.

"What-what do you mean, you win?" she asked, sounding confused and horrified because something deep down told her that she should be. She tried not to tremble when he laughed.

"I told you to keep focus," his low voice rumbled, as his free hand settled on the cushion of the couch, caging her in. If Sarah were wearing boots, or any kind of footwear for that matter, she would have been shaking in them.

"Keep focus on what?" she asked. Her eyes slowly trailed down when he reached up and plucked one of her nervous little hands and placed it flat against his chest.

"Your hand...is no longer on the door, is it?" he asked, and with one swift tug, yanked her up so they sat nose to nose. He didn't bother waiting for her gasp as his hands curled around the hem of her shirt and ripped it up and off her. Her eyes shot out at him, and immediately she started kicking herself back across the couch. Jareth's predatory grin was soon to follow.

"Jareth! What the- What the Hell are you doing?!" she squealed, fighting hopelessly as he continued, without fault, to encroach over her panicky, flailing body. He started laughing again, a sound that vibrated with a malicious sense of victory.

"Oh come now, Sarah, don't play dumb," he said, reaching up for the waist of her shorts. She didn't think twice about kicking him, consequences be damned. What the Hell was even happening right now?

"Jareth- stop it! What are you-" She didn't get the chance to say much else before Jareth's iron grip flung her shorts down and away to join her shirt. Her face blushed violently against her will, and she started to squirm more feverishly.

"I told you, if you slipped up even once-"

"What? No! I won that game! What are you- You can't!" she screamed, fussing and making a tussle out of the couch. Jareth looked as though he'd never had more fun. He laughed at her some more, before raising himself to lay out flat against her, crushing her into the couch.

"I can," he rumbled, salaciously. Sarah glared. "We discussed the rules. You knew the terms I set. I would try to stimulate your pheromone output, and you would try to keep them at bay. You've been doing an excellent job so far, but as it seems, there are more ways than one for me to crawl under your skin," he added, in sheer revelry. Sarah pushed up against him.

"No. You cheated! I won tonight's round!"

"Really? I could have sworn I'd just felt a tingle of something decadent radiating from that quivering little body of yours just now. I promised not to lie, and I have not, whether it work in your favor or mine," he said. Sarah started shaking her head.

"No. That doesn't count. Tonight's round ended already. I won." Jareth continued to smile gallantly at her.

"Is that so? When exactly did the round end?" he asked.

"When we were standing by the bed. You stopped and walked away and I asked you if I'd really won-"

"And at what point in time did I ever say we had stopped playing? Or were you taking for granted that I walking away from you meant we were finished?" The haughtiness in his voice could not be matched as Sarah stared on, appalled.

"That's- that's not fair!" she screamed, and started pushing against him again, ignoring the fact that she was now pressed up against him in nothing but her bra and underwear. It didn't take much for Jareth to capture her arms and pin them to her sides.

"Oh I think it is. The most important part of these lessons is learning to be constantly on guard. Nothing can be unexpected. There can be no surprises. Do you think you will be warned and prepared to shield yourself when confronted in the real world, among people who will be purposely trying to deceive you, just as I have?" He spoke clearly and rationally as he held her down, and kept his gaze locked on hers until she calmed down enough to process what he'd said. It took a minute or two, but soon Sarah's grunts for escape turned to grunts of frustration in another respect. She closed her eyes briefly and scowled. _Stupid. How stupid could you be, Sarah! You should have known he would do this. He was being nice tonight on purpose. Fuck! And I let him waltz right in! Gaaahhhd Damn It! UGHHH. _She continued to struggle, but he could sense she was more fighting her own ambivalence than he. Though, with that said, it took her words longer to reach the same conclusion.

"Well, I don't care! Get off of me Jareth!"

"So antagonistic, love," He said, cheekily. Sarah was practically fuming from all the arrogance starting to burgeon in the room.

"Get off of me!"

Jareth held her more firmly, and commanded her attention simply by the intensity of his stare. He seemed more serious all of the sudden.

"I will not. We have an arrangement. I have held up my end, as you must now hold up yours," he said. Sarah froze, as if the implications of his statement having just now dawned on her. Her eyes widened in horror.

"What? I - no. Jareth, I don't want-"

"Sarah-"

Jareth's voice was so low and demanding Sarah thought it dangerous just to look up at him. But she did. She saw his expression hard as stone and even somewhat condescending; but there was also a strange warmth that she wasn't quite sure how to place. His hands shifted to go from clamping her wrists to encasing her hands.

"I, like you, do not wish to have a repeat of the other night. With that said, this _must_ happen, one way or another. I instated this game with you so that you would be well aware of all the rules, of all the consequences and what that meant. That way, you would know what is happening to you at all times and there will be no reason for you to fear it. There would be no reason for you to become upset like last time," he said, and it dawned on Sarah that _that_ was what he thought she was so upset about -that she was surprised and afraid of him touching her ...well, maybe a little...in the beginning. Her eyes started to lower as she thought. "But we have struck a contract, you and I. And I intend to hold you to it. Do you understand?" he asked, more softly than before.

Sarah continued to scrunch her brow as she melded all this over. He had cheated, no doubt about that; he had manipulated her, tricked her. But...but he was right. She should have been paying attention, she should have anticipated trickery from him. And what was so aggravating about that, was that she _did_ have those thoughts and yet she willingly pushed them away, trying to give him the benefit of the doubt. Well, never again. _Fool me once, shame on me.._. But, while she was now more prepared for future rounds, she still had to deal with this one. Five times, up to five times she had to let him touch her. That was the deal. No way around it. She cringed to herself.

"I thought you were going to go easy on me tonight?" she asked, peering up at him as if he might smite her at any moment. His smile returned, and he shifted to pull her hands behind her back, cuffing them in place and forcing her back to arch up towards him.

"Oh, believe me, I am."

He tugged on her wrists, as if double checking they were well secured, and sat up off of her. Sarah was quick to scoot herself upright against the arm of the couch, and brought her knees up to her chest in an effort to cover herself.

"I knew there was a reason you were being so nice to me," she muttered, with a glare, though Jareth seemed unaffected by her venomous stare.

"There is a reason for everything," he retorted and, without warning or preamble, reached for the hem of his own shirt and pulled it up and over his head, just as smoothly as he had done to her.

Sarah's face blanched, and she felt her heart give one hard pound against her chest. Jareth was sitting up on his knees, in those wickedly tight pants of his and now shirtless and grinning at her. Sarah's bewitched little eyes couldn't stop themselves from examining every little detail they could find. She'd never seen him so undressed. She'd never seen what his bare torso looked like. Her open mouth closed so she could gulp as she registered her bodily reaction towards his. This was not good. He continued to sit there a moment longer, letting her openly drink him in. He'd felt her signals shoot out at him like a solar flare just then. He tried not to laugh -that would be too haughty of him. Ha. Without taking his eyes from hers, he reached down and clasped the pendant still hung low around his neck. He pulled that over his head too, and let it drop to the floor with a thud. It'd hung so low, Sarah hadn't even realized he was wearing it at all.

"It would seem that you're losing more and more focus by the second, Sarah. It's not good that you break so easily under pressure. One crack, and your whole wall comes crumbling down," he said and crawled up and over the ball that she had placed herself in. She could feel his long hair draping over her knees. She wriggled in her spot.

"Get away from me, Jareth," she snarled and glared away from him. Jareth reached up and pulled her face back.

"Oh come now, what's with all this fussing?" he asked, tenderly almost. Sarah tried bucking him off her. "You're not going to be a sore loser, are you, Sarah?"

"Yes, I am. You tricked me and I don't much appreciate it," she answered, and cringed when he leaned in further, bringing his lips to her ear.

"I played my part, and you played yours. You did very well for the first round. You should be proud." She could feel his lips against her skin as he talked. She made a very nasty sound in response.

"Pff, stow it, Goblin King," she snapped. Jareth laughed, a sound that came as a low rumble deep in his chest. Sarah tried to keep her eyes off of his bare arms.

"Heheh, do you have any idea how much fun this is going to be?" he asked. Sarah started jerking against her cuffs, now fighting him out of sheer frustration rather than fear or surprise. He reached behind her and grabbed both of her wrists, holding her in place. "Why are you still fighting? We made a deal," he asked.

"Because you piss me off, the way you loom over me like a big bad fucking wolf," she snarled, and not two seconds later was Jareth's hand in her mouth, his fingers curling around her teeth and viciously yanking down on her bottom jaw. His eyes were harder, but well controlled.

"_That_ will be your one free pass. I will remind you to mind your tongue, for the next time you curse at me you'll be dealing with something much more unpleasant than a garden snake binding those lovely lips," he said, and after another hard tug, released her mouth. Sarah pursed her lips and pouted up at him, before glaring away. Jareth started to smile, seeing through her angry facade. "You understand the parameters of our agreement, no?" he asked. Sarah glared harder, but nodded. "And you accept them?"

"Do I have a choice?"

"I told you before, there is always a choice. I'm not trying to scare you off. I want you to enjoy it. These guidelines will grant me your consent, so you can no longer accuse me of-" Sarah was about to supply the word _molest_ for him, but wisely thought against it. "-foul play. Do you accept?"

Seconds started to tick.

"Even if I am forced to accept, I can still fight you over it..." She mumbled, to herself it seemed. Jareth's grin became more genuine, pleased and relieved that her antagonization was over her own loss of victory, rather than the prospect of him touching her. He laughed. Suddenly, he took hold of her conjoined wrists once again, and jerked her down so she was laying flat on the couch, keeping himself nose to nose with her along the way.

"As long as we both know it's all a front, you can fight me 'til I bleed," he said, and tauntingly nipped on her lip.

* * *

Sarah was about to take up his offer with earnest, but wisely thought that he probably hadn't meant his words so literally; and besides, there wasn't much hope of her drawing blood in her current state anyway. Instead, she simply resided to flail around like a fish out of water, huffing and puffing as she tried her best to evade Jareth's wanton lips as they kissed a trail across her cheek and down her neck. He lowered himself onto her, using his dead weight to crush all her effort in its tracks. She closed her eyes and grimaced.

"I can sense that you're still fighting yourself. That part is over now, it will be better if you stop trying to hold back. It's time for you to relax..." his low voice hummed against her skin. She shivered all over, though she wasn't sure if that was a good or a bad thing. He ran his hands down her arms and around her waist, his broad touch helping desensitize the electric shocks of anxiety stimulating her skin. She screwed her eyes shut tighter and turned her head away.

"Stop talking," she bit out, nearly grinding her teeth with frustration. Jareth's hands molded to her hips.

"Why? Trying to ignore me, are we? I'm sorry to disappoint you, but there is no way in Hell that you could ever hope to ignore what I am about to do to you," he said, kneading his thumbs into the tender flesh of her lower stomach. Sarah gulped. "You see _-right there_, that flare of ecstasy. Your body wants to scream at me. Let it. I told you to hold the door closed, but in this exercise I want you to step away from it all together. Relax, and let everything just flow right out of you. The less build up there is, the easier it will be to hold back. This is beneficial to you, in more ways than one, and you know it." She could feel his hair tickling her chest as he spoke, as well as his smiling lips as he kissed his way down her sternum. She tried to sooth her pulse, knowing he could, without a doubt, feel her heart pounding faster and harder with each word he said.

He moved lower, drawing a circle around her navel with his tongue. She puffed up her chest and tried wriggling out from under him. All he had to do was tighten his grip on her hips, sending her flopping back down to the couch. She nearly growled when he laughed.

"Urggg, you're such a -such a-"

"Such a what, my dear?"

She shot her eyes open and lurched up off the couch.

"Such a scoundrel! A dirty, manipulative little scoundrel!" she yelled. Jareth reared up to meet her nose to nose. His proximity made her want to flinch back, but she held her ground, steeling her expression to stare daggers at him. He gave her a quick once-over, then lazily raised one eyebrow at her, his own expression a torpid contrast to her own.

"Little? What about me do you think is little?" he asked, seemingly amused though completely lackadaisical. Sarah growled.

"UGH," was her rampant response, and she quickly shimmied her legs out from under him.

"Sarah, the longer you insist on fighting me, the longer this will take-" he said, and effortlessly took hold of one of her ankles and dragged her right back down. He planted his hands right at the junction of her thighs and leaned over her, pressing his weight down on his hands to keep her still. His hair was tickling her chest again, and his sneer was only an inch from hers. "You do realize the point of this is to bring you to orgasm, do you not? Usually, that only happens when you allow yourself to enjoy what is being done to you. Now, you can huff and puff all you want, but I will persist on you until our goal is met, no matter how long it takes. So I suggest you start reevaluating the logistics of your present coarse of action, do you understand?"

He held her stare for a long time, slowly breaking through the defensive layers of her angry little eyes. After a moment, he thought he saw something, a brief glimmer that had weaseled its way to the surface. He caught it, and held onto it. That's when he started noticing other seemingly insignificant tremors about her body: the slight tremble in her shoulders, the wideness of her eyes and the irregularity of her heart beat. He narrowed his eyes for a moment, then swiftly moved away from her.

"Stay put a moment, I think I may have something that may help," he said and was no sooner gone from her vision. Sarah shot up immediately, looking back over her shoulder to see where in the world he'd just run off too. He'd gone to walk around the side of her bed, and she had to narrow her eyes as he bent down, once again leaving her vision. _What in the Hell is he doing?_ she wondered, and then tried not to seem to attentive when he suddenly stood and made his way back to her. She tried, very hard, not to watch the way his muscles moved as he walked. Why? Oh why, dear lord, why did he have to take his shirt off?

He came back to her and smirked, satisfied that she had actually listened and hadn't made a mad dash for the hills. She saw him look down his nose at her, and drew her legs up into a ball. He paid no mind, and merely sat on the edge of the couch beside her. She was about to ask what the fuck was up with him, when he leaned forward, and somehow produced that god damned purple scarf from the other night. She opened her mouth to protest, but was cut off by the impatient force of Jareth's hands as they yanked and tied the cloth firmly around her eyes.

"There, that's better," he said, with some manner of praise to himself. Sarah started shaking her head, as if that would make any difference.

"What are you doing?! Get this thing off of me!" she demanded, and was left unprepared when Jareth's hand was suddenly in her hair yanking down with mild force, forcing her head to look upwards. Her mouth dropped open from the surprise.

"I don't think you are in any position to be commanding me," he hissed, salaciously. "Now, I do recall how much you settled down after I stole your vision last time. If I didn't know any better, I'd say you liked being bound and left vulnerable..." he'd leaned in, and took his sweet time as he kissed her with slow, deep licks. Sarah tried to bite him. "Shall I gag you next?" he teased and then leaned in to take advantage of her mouth again. "Hm...no. I enjoy your mouth too much to restrain it, even when it's spitting poison at me," he said, and tightened his fist in her hair to pull her down flat on the couch. Sarah tried not to wince.

His hand left her hair and joined the other as they began pulling down her legs. She tried, with all her might, to keep them locked in place against her chest, but was met with no avail. Jareth's strong hands gripped her knees, and, seemingly without effort, slowly pulled them flat. She kept her knees pressed tight together however, and this he let be -for the time being.

Although Sarah had a pretty good idea of what Jareth was going to do with her, at the same time, she had absolutely no idea what to expect next. She turned her head away and bit her lip, as if bracing for impact, tensing her whole body along the way. It was a good thing she was blind folded, she didn't really want him to see her grimace. She was about to wonder where he'd disappeared to when she felt his hands on her again, stroking up the length of her thighs. She tensed further when he crossed over the lace of her underwear, but relaxed some when he kept going. His hands trailed and wandered all the way to her shoulders, but stopped there to flick down the straps of her bra. She hunched her shoulders as he did this, but said nothing. She expected to feel something, movement as he pulled down her bra, or his hands as they dipped beneath it. But she didn't. She didn't feel anything. She waited a moment that felt like an eternity, then, somewhat subconsciously, she started to relax and even exhaled.

She felt him kiss her heart, and place a hand over her shoulder. She didn't realize he'd moved so close to her ear as he said,

"You're so apprehensive. I want you to relax your body. There is no reason to feel afraid. I would never harm you, and our agreement still stands that I will not take you during these lessons, unless you want me to. You know how good I can make you feel; I've done it before. Just imagine how good you felt those times I made you moan, those times I made your body twist and vibrate for release. I am not your opponent, there is no one to fight here." His words were soft and sensual. For the sake of her sanity, Sarah tried to swallow her pride and do as he said.

"Did you ever think that maybe I'm just not comfortable with being touched like this? Did you ever think that maybe I'm just not ready yet?" she asked. Jareth's hand moved to pull down one of her straps a little further, and then moved to grasp her breast over her bra, pushing it up and kneading her through the material. Sarah tried not to gasp.

"Oh, but I think you are. You just don't know where to start. That's why I'm here," he said, kneading and caressing her with more and more pressure as he spoke. Sarah gulped, and tried not to arch herself up to him. "You're still holding back. And...is that a blush I see? There is no reason to feel bashful with me, Sarah. No one is judging you. I _want_ to make you feel good, and your body _wants_ to feel good." His hand had done a sneaky maneuver while he talked, inching upwards while groping, so that she was left unaware as his fingers dipped under her bra and began to lightly squeeze and pinch her nipple. She couldn't stop her sharp intake of breath, nor the jerk in her back after feeling_ that_. Her mouth hung open a little, as she fought her way through limbo. His head lowered, and began kissing the swell of her breast, slowly trailing down to replace his fingers as he licked at sucked at the rosy bud. Sarah's back arched further, and her mouth opened wider. "See? It's so easy..." he hummed against her.

As he worked her breast, his free hand began to roam down her side, groping her hip and the curve of her ass as it made its way to her groin. He ran a finger under the rim of her panties, lightly teasing. It wasn't until his hand moved lower that she flinched. He paused for a fraction of a second, observing the way her legs drew tighter together and the way her face twisted as she pressed it into the back of the couch. While her breathing was heavier and she'd arched her back for him, she was still using all her will power against him. He drew his brow on this; it obviously wasn't what he was doing that was the problem...maybe...hmm. He went on a limb when he said,

"You know, that blindfold means you can't see me. If it will help you relax, you can pretend it's Davion who's touching you."

Sarah whipped her head around so fast she nearly smacked him in the face.

'What?!" she shrieked, so loud and with such outrage, that Jareth was wondering if something had just crawled up and bit her on the ass. Her blindfold was still snug tight around her head, but he could tell she was shooting lasers at him. "What did you just say?!" she repeated. He reached up and pulled the scarf up from one of her eyes.

"I believe you heard me perfectly fine," he answered. Sarah's visible eye became so wide and her face turned so red one might think she was about to combust.

"Why would you say that?!" she shrieked again, though Jareth was now able to distinguish that it wasn't outrage in her voice, but embarrassment. He curled one side of his lips, only slightly.

"Because I thought it might make this easier for you," he explained. Sarah sat up a little further. Jareth took a mental snapshot just then, of the image that was her: sitting upright, tied up in nothing but her underthings, with the left strap of her bra pulled down ever-so-wantonly, wearing half a blindfold with a blooming blush on her cheeks and a glare that would have been enough to kill any mortal man. It was as amusing as it was arousing. He tried not to let his smile show through.

"You're honestly telling me you want me to think of your brother while you're- while you- molest me?!"

"I'm not molesting you."

"Fine, then. Whatever. You want me to think of your brother while you touch me sexually? You, of all people, are ok with that?" She couldn't believe it, simply couldn't believe someone as possessive as Jareth had just said that. What the Hell? Jareth merely gave her an eye as he regarded her.

"Well, first off, I would prefer it if you were thinking of me while being touched, by any individual. But, there isn't anything outrageous about role-playing. And the reality of it is, while you envision someone, say my darling little brother, it will be and will always be _I_ who is giving you pleasure. It will be _I_ who makes you moan and writhe, and when it is over and you open your eyes, it will be _me_ you see, and you will be left with the disillusionment that the entire time, it was _my_ touch that you craved, it was _my_ voice that made you shiver, and it was _my_ vision that you kept in the back of your mind, because, as I said before, there is no way in Hell that you could ever hope to ignore the things that_ I _will do to you. So I will say it again, if it will help you relax, I want you to close your eyes, and pretend it is Davion's hands that you feel."

Sarah gawked, openly, and blatantly. What?- How?- She couldn't even formulate speech in her own head let alone verbally. _Is he serious right now? What? Of course he is! WTF._ She felt so embarrassed, so ungodly embarrassed that Jareth would even propose she do something like that. It was one thing to have to deal with him, but now he'd gone and brought Davion into the picture. And to be honest, Sarah hadn't really given Davion a single thought since he'd left. Sure, he was cute and charming and sweet, but never once did she think of him sexually, which was the exact opposite in Jareth's case. God Dammit! What was she supposed to do now? How awkward is this that he had to bring up her little incident with Davion right now, of all times? She wanted to scream. She wanted to run away. She wanted him to shut up and just get this over with.


	38. Rhetoric, part 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While unbeknown to her, Sarah has succeeded in obtaining the one thing the Goblin King has desired for hundreds of years -power over the Labyrinth. After being hidden for years from his diabolical wrath, Sarah finds herself alone and vulnerable as Jareth's dark desires are finally aloud to rear their ugly heads. As always, the only question is, are things really as they seem?

"Ok, I know I messed up the other day, but I don't want Davion that way, I told you before," she said.

"No? Your body seemed to tell otherwise."

"Yea, and my body also got all worked up after I ran, but I don't think that means I wanna get it on with the act of jogging," she snarled. Jareth cracked a smirk, clearly reveling in the fact that he had ruffled her feathers in such a compromising state.

"This is true," he said. Sarah caught the faint hint of a smile just then, and soon started to realize that he was laughing at her. That was when she realized what a fool she must look like, tied up and flustered. She was glaring at him with only one eye for Pete's sake! She glared harder and pursed her lips at him.

"Yea, so...I'd appreciate it if you didn't bring it up again."

"So, what you're saying is that you in fact don't want to fantasize about my brother?" he asked.

"No! And I don't want to fantasize about anyone else for that matter either." She didn't catch Jareth's grin that time, and she reacted far too late after he leaned in, placing his hands on the arm of the couch on either side of her, caging her in. Sarah's eyes flickered up the length of his arm, then back down again.

"Really? So only me then?" he asked, with a small flare of victory in his voice. She tensed in her spot, realizing she'd just made a huge mistake. _Shit. Think before you speak!_

"Not even you," she said. Jareth leaned in further, and ran his nose along hers, all cute-like.

"Now, I know _that_ is a lie," he said, and with a new sense of confidence, tugged her blindfold back into place. He brought a finger under her chin, pushing her head up so he could have better access to suck on the tender flesh there, while his free hand moved to briefly grope her breast before sliding around her back and pulling her up to him. "You dream of me almost regularly. And after tonight, I imagine you'll be dreaming of me even more." And with that, she felt herself being pulled to lay in the center of the couch.

Even though she was blindfolded, Sarah's eyes screwed shut as tight as they would go in an effort to hide from the hypocrisy that was about to take place. She fisted her hands behind her back, their position forcing her to arch her back upwards, showcasing her body for him as he loomed over her.

His hands splayed around her ribcage and she felt him plant a hot kiss in the center of her abdomen as he began to slowly work his way down. She squirmed beneath him, her breathing both light and heavy at the same time. He ran his nose down the center of her stomach, savoring her scent as he went. His hands settled around her hips, his fingers curling around the rim of her underwear. He paused once reaching the lace covering her nethers, his breath further stimulating her already heated flesh. He could feel the tension growing within the fraction-inch of space between his mouth and her the further he prolonged contact. Seeming to have had enough, her pelvis pushed upwards towards him, reflexively. His lips curled as he just barely evaded collision. He was so close, her smell was so much stronger now. How in the world had he managed to hold himself back from her for so long? He gave a soft laugh, the low reverberant echo of which sent a tingle up her spine.

"Heheh...your body remembers me," he said, lecherously, his smile stretching and curling ever-so-sinisterly. His eyes became hooded, firmly secured in the victory of her imminent surrender. Surrender? Ha! She would never surrender. But she would succumb...

He kissed the center of her waist line as his hands began to tighten and gently tug the lace from her body. Her legs tensed, in a weak effort to stop him, but only succeeded in providing a minor distraction. He paused and reached up to wrap a hand around the back of her thigh. He leaned up and kissed her knee, his lips against her distracting her as his other hand pushed her remaining leg further away. He stroked her leg, and began kissing his way to the apex of her thigh. His touch was soft and tender, and succeeded in its effort to sooth. She relaxed, only slightly, but that was all he needed. Moving slowly, he resumed the sensual crawl of his hands in disrobing her. He'd wedged himself between her legs, leaving her incapable of blocking him out again. Though, he had to move back some to pull her panties down off her feet, allotting her the space needed to press her thighs together to hide herself. He pushed them open again.

The room was dreadfully quiet, awkwardness starting to fill the space. She didn't feel anything, which, paired with the dead silence, meant he was staring at her. She couldn't see him, but she had a clear mental image of his expression, of the way his eyes were scanning her, of how vulnerable she now was, prey to his gaze. She bit her lip and tried her best not to squirm; though she nearly jerked when a finger began to trail across her thigh.

"You have a tan line," he said, rather absently. His observation, being nonsexual, caught her attention in a positive way. His finger trailed a straight line over her thighs, and then moved to her lower waist. "Here..." he added, the lone tip of his finger on her skin nearly overriding her with sensation and anxiety. His hand left her stomach. "Here..." She nearly flinched again when his finger reappeared just under her breast, moving slowly and lazily across her ribs. "And...here," he murmured, concluding the venture of his finger with a low swoop starting from her shoulder, dipping down between her breasts, and then moving back up to the other shoulder. Sarah's heart fluttered in her throat.

He saw the way she nibbled her lip and the bright pink blush that flamed her skin, and drew his hand away. He moved back down, and nuzzled his nose into her stomach. His hands took their place around her hips, gently holding her in place as he kissed his way down to the mound between her legs. Her skin grew more sensitive the nearer he drew, and was nearly enflamed by the time he reached his destination. Her breath hitched in her throat.

"You are bashful. There is no need. You are beautiful. Every part of you. Especially like this," he said, and lowered his head to kiss her cleft. He could feel her start to quiver, but without another word opened his mouth and slipped his tongue between her folds.

Sarah's entire body tensed, frozen like a statue; though it wasn't from fear or repulsion or discomfort, as it was from the inability to properly react. His tongue, wet and warm, pressed against her, dipping between her folds and pressing against her clit. His movements were slow and exploring, and the dead silence of the room helped to make her only too aware. His tongue moved lower, and ran along the length of her opening, precariously sinking in a little further with each pass. She wasn't sure if it were Jareth's hands, or her own will, but she felt her rigid legs start to widen a little further.

With Sarah's subliminal signal, Jareth's hands moved from her hips to hold her at either junction of her thighs, using the heat, pressure and proximity of his hands near a spot so tender to stimulate her further. He held her legs open, but there was no need, she was doing it for him, all on her own. He angled his head and plunged his tongue deeper into her, tasting and feeling his way. She was dead quiet, but her body tentatively swayed with his motions, pushing further onto him, yearning for deeper, further penetration.

He watched her like a predator, visually devouring every little mannerism, every tremor and subtle flinch she gave him. She'd kept her face pressed firmly into the couch, but was now starting to angle her head back, slowly losing her anxiety as well as some of her inhibitions. He gripped her thighs tighter, and pushed his jaw a little deeper. One of her legs began to draw up, her calf skimming against his shoulder. The movement, the contact, was like a seal of victory for him. One real touch and she'd given in so quickly. Yes, her body did remember him. And while her pride might say otherwise, her body knew better than to fight him. Her back arched a little more, but she maintained the solid rhythm of her breathing. He wasn't satisfied with this, and altered the position of one of his hands to press a thumb against her clit.

Sarah's back jerked with the sudden sensation, and her mouth dropped open, unable to stop a reflexive gasp. Jareth smiled from his spot, the added victory giving him the closure to close his eyes as he plunged deeper and more fervently.

Sarah wasn't sure at what point the line had been crossed, but somewhere between now, and the argument they'd been having three minutes ago, Sarah's conscience had politely excused itself to make room for her newly awakened libido. Yes, technically she had consented to this, and yes, she had just declared to fight him anyway; but as soon as his lips touched her there...it was as if everything just went on autopilot. That contact, that heat, her body instantly remembered his touch, how tender and tantalizing it was. And this time...there was something different this time. She wasn't afraid like before. She was miffed about being tricked, but not afraid. That, and the blindfold and the quiet isolation of the room, it just made everything ...so much easier. He wasn't going to fuck her. He'd promised. That alone took most of the weight from her shoulders, but it was also the fact that he had actually _thought_ about the other night. He thought about how she felt, and tried to find a way to make it better. And while she would have preferred to avoid this situation all together, she appreciated that. Though it wasn't much, she appreciated that level of consideration, something she'd wanted from him all along. Maybe that's why it was so easy for her to simply close her eyes rather than clench them. Maybe that was why she was able to lean her head back and let him do whatever it was he planned to do. A part of her resented this about herself, in this moment, but she ignored it -for the time being at least.

Jareth's tongue soon replaced his thumb at making circles around her clit. He lowered one of his hands and ran the pad of his index finger along her opening, now glistening and swelling in anticipation. Slowly, almost stealthily, his finger entered her, pushing a little deeper with each undulation. He teased her at first, only giving her up to his first knuckle. As if acting on the whim of its master, Sarah's body opened up for him, eager and hungry to be filled. She could feel herself grow wetter and wetter, stimulated by the taunting of his finger. She rolled her hips -pride be damned, but she wanted more. His tongue swirled around her, lathering her until she could feel the fluid start to drip down. She flexed her arms against the restraints, still headstrong enough to keep herself from wilting completely.

He slid his finger in deeper, sheathing it up to the hilt, and curled it as if calling her towards him. Her pelvis gave a small buck, and her mouth opened wider, but still she did not moan. He could feel her insides sucking him deeper, and curled the pad of his finger against her front wall, moving in a constant fluid rhythm. He lowered his lips to lick up all the wonderful fluids dripping out of her. She tasted so sweet, sweeter than normal humans. Perhaps it was her fiery spirit that added this flavor, her constant energy that made her taste of, not just sugar, but spice. Or maybe it was the passion he had for her, he didn't know, but was too distracted to bother with pondering. Feeling a sudden hunger, his tongue plunged between her folds, joining his finger as he sought more and more of her nectar. He'd known it from the first moment he'd tasted her, the first moment he'd smelled her even, he knew that once he had her, he would never have enough. There was so much about the human body that differed from his own kind, there was a certain delectability about them, a rawness that so well complimented the evolutionary refinement of the Fae. Everything from their fluids to their smells, it was all so delicious. His kind had always had a certain hunger for them, but his craving for Sarah was in a league of its own; for it wasn't just the physical chemistry between species that fueled him, but her as an individual, her own body, her own spirit, the power that dwelled inside her. He craved that so much more; and this, her blood, her tears, her sweat and her cum, it was all just icing on the cake.

A second finger joined the first and his free hand left her thigh to press firmly down on the waist line of her stomach, the pressure meeting that of his fingers moving inside her, creating a more severe, acute pleasure. The sensation grew within her until it was almost unbearable. Her toes began to curl in rhythm with his movements while her body jerked and twisted, fighting to remove his hand from the spot it had so purposefully claimed. Jareth pressed harder, knowing the effect he had on her and denying her slightest wriggling. He curled and hooked his fingers, making each thrust more pointed and deliberate. His lips left her cleft and moved to suck on the artery pulsing wildly at the base of her thigh. He moved his fingers faster, harder, until the hand at her stomach could feel himself moving inside her. He bit down, sending a sharp, searing sensation that flared heat and pain and pressure and pleasure amidst everything else that already tormented and burgeoned between her thighs. It was too much, too fast, too much to restrain. Her breathing quickened, becoming light and feathered. And she could feel sweat brimming on her brow in an effort to hold herself down, in an effort _not_ to moan and twist and turn. At some point, she asked herself why, why was she holding back? The faster he made her cum, the sooner this would all be over. And that was when that sickly, dark and decrepit little part of her scraped its claws down the walls of her sanity, whispering, with sinister delight, that she didn't want this to be over soon, she wanted this moment to drag on and on, she wanted to savor the pain and the torment of restraint, finding a brilliant sense of exhilaration in both physical and mental asphyxiation. Her wrists began to sweat as she fought against her cuffs, her body brimming and tingling. Her face was hot, her throat was hot. The air in her lungs fumed. She could feel Jareth's teeth as they scraped against her skin, raising his head to watch her. She envisioned his eyes on her, their heat and ferocity, all the while too cowardly to actually face him. She envisioned his bare chest and his long lean arms as he kneeled between her. She felt all four of his fingers pressing down on her stomach, the feeling of his thrusting inside her was so intense it was close to pain. She arched her back until it strained, her heels digging into the couch. Suddenly, she felt his thumb rub against her cit again, moving in small, precisely applied circles. The pad of his thumb was already wet from her own fluids, and moved with ease around and down. She felt a jolt shoot through her, and then another, slower one. Her back bowed further, and her fists clenched until her knuckles turned white. Her mouth dropped open as she let out one, forceful, agonizing moan.

Jareth's gaze was focused on her face and nothing else. His eyes were wide and burned bright, drinking in the moment. His hands moved with mechanical precision, milking every last bit of Sarah's orgasm. He could feel her walls constricting around him, quivering. And he could smell her body's cry for ecstasy. He kept the rest of his body completely still, completely quiet, fearful that if he should break concentration now, he might lose his head and do something regretful.

Only when he felt her muscles start to relax did he move. He pulled his fingers from her, and leaned over, raising himself above her, nose to nose. Sarah was still floating, unaware of his movement, which left her caught off guard when she felt his fingers suddenly burrow into her gaping mouth. On instinct, her tongue glided around and between his fingers, and her lips suctioned around them. It wasn't until she realized what she was doing that she spat them out and shot her head away. He smiled and took hold of her jaw to turn her back to him. His lips were about a hair's width from hers.

"You have a beautiful little cunt, do you know that?" he asked, leaving Sarah completely bemused as to what he'd just said. _What? Did he just say cunt? How the hell does he even know that word?_ She tried thrashing her head out of his grasp.

"How come you get to swear?" she countered, scowling through her blindfold. Jareth's smile broadened, and he moved his body to wedge his knee into her groin. She jolted further up the couch from the sudden force.

"Because your dreams tell me you like it -the vulgar little thing that you are," he said, moving his knee in a slow circular motion against her cleft. Sarah's body couldn't help but move in a wave against him. Her back was arched, forcing her breasts to rub against his chest with each subtle undulation. She had nowhere to go when he lowered his head and sucked on her neck. He'd balanced himself on his hands, careful not to touch her. But now, he lowered to rest on his forearm, while the other hand clawed into the mane of her hair, jerking her head further away. The hand he rested on grasped her shoulder, his bare, heated skin doing wicked things to her nervous system.

But it wasn't just his bare hands frying her circuits, it was his bare torso, weighing down and pressing her into the cushions. She could feel his stomach on hers as he moved against her, slowly, rising and falling as he thrust his leg into her.

Suddenly, Sarah felt a heat start to burn deep in her chest in a way she hadn't felt before. Perhaps it was because this was the first time she'd felt the bare skin of his body, or perhaps it was because this was the first real time he'd ever laid out over her, moving against her like this. She couldn't see him, but she could feel his heat, the texture of his skin, the roughness and softness of it. She could smell his musk, something so masculine and enchanting it could be recognized only as him, and she could feel his hair as it fell over and engulfed her. His presence on top of her was dominating, and she was starting to grow hot in more ways than one. All of the sudden, for some inexplicable, or perhaps totally obvious reason, she really _really_ wanted to see him. She wanted her blindfold to shrug itself off of her of its own volition. She wanted to open her eyes and lock onto his, just to see what she would be met with. How was he staring at her right now? Would there be hunger? Calculation? Victory? Reverence?

The hand on her shoulder moved lower to cup her breast, hiking it up so it swelled high on her chest. His mouth lowered, biting and sucking at her skin. He tugged down on her bra, and slid his tongue beneath the cup, twirling it around her well hardened nipple. She arched her back for him, inadvertently thrusting herself down onto his knee. He bit down on her nipple and hollowed his cheeks as he sucked, the hand in her hair continuing to tug on her. She felt a sting in her scalp, but, for some reason, the small pain made everything else more invigorating.

"I could make you come for me just by doing this, couldn't I?" he asked, his breath fire against her flesh. She wasn't really listening to his words, but something about the husk of his voice did something very vile to her sense of self-preservation. She didn't respond, not really. She did however, unconsciously part her lips and moan softly on a quick intake of breath. That sound on her lips, gods that sound on her lips. He watched her face as her resolve came undone, himself growing more and more riled as a barrage of endorphins poured out around him. This stimulation, primal as it was, ignited a new sense of fervor in him; though he was careful not to let it go to his head, it would be so easy to succumb to it, to lose himself in it as he was meant to. But that night would come, it would come, and it would come soon. This was going so much better than last time. He smiled at the shape her lips had taken as she moaned. "I wonder what could happen if I do this-" he said, and removed his hand from her breast to hook around her sex.

His fingers were inside her in an instant, not one or two, but three. He surged deep, as deep as he could go, hard and roughly, and he used his knee to give him an extra boost of force. Sarah cried out, an honest cry. She could feel his fingers roaming and expanding inside her. He was stretching her out, purposefully. It hurt at first, mostly from the surprise, but after a moment, her body acclimated to the intrusion and opened for him. The hand in her hair tightened, and he pressed his weight onto her, moving his torso against her in deliberate thrusts, and making sure she was fully aware of it. She felt his ragged breath against her neck, at the spot behind her ear, and shuddered from the heat.

"Can you feel me inside you? Feel my body covering yours, pressing you down? Can you feel the sweat glistening your body? Can you feel that sheen as it rubs off of you and sticks to me?" he whispered, breathing raggedly against her hairline, his lips brushing against her skin with each word. "Feel me pressing against you, thrusting into you. Can you really say this is not what you want?" he asked, making it apparent that he was using his hand to simulate another, more forceful part of his body.

Sarah didn't speak. She could barely breathe. What was even happening to her? What was she letting him do to her? Letting him pleasure her was one thing, but she was really starting to loose her head here. She knew what he was doing, he was trying to get her worked up enough to agree to having sex. Ha! As if she would fall for that. She tried to stay focused as he talked dirty, though her success in this was debatable.

"Just imagine me inside you, stretching you, your body full and pulled to its limits. Imagine your hands clawing around me, the heat that sweeps over you, that engulfs you. Imagine me holding you and never letting go."

-That last bit. Right on the end there. That last sentence. The rest of his words might as well have just floated right on by, but that, the imagery he chose to end on, now latched on with one curled claw. She opened her eyes and turned her head, but of course she couldn't see him. She felt even hotter now, his long blonde hair seeming to constrict her as it draped across her neck. She felt his hand pumping into her, and for a split second, allowed her brain to flash her a vision of everything he'd just said. She felt his stomach lower down to hers as he thrust his body, noting that it was now slick from the perspiration of her own. Her chest rose, her breasts, lungs and heart overheated by the constriction of her bra. She opened her mouth and moaned, the sound breaking the chains, one by one, that held it prisoner within her windpipe.

Jareth kissed her throat, running his tongue along the pulsing artery, and nipped at her jaw as he neared her mouth. He held himself above her, each living off the heat of the other's breath. His eyes flickered over her face, though mostly covered by the cloth he was still completely captivated. The brightness in his eyes condensed as a hood lowered over them, and the corners of his mouth curled ever-so-slightly, her expression making him feel daring.

"Kiss me," he whispered, commanded, demanded, pleaded, whatever it was, it was sexy as hell. He saw her tongue dart out to graze along her lower lip, her chest expanding up against his. He didn't wait for her to say no, and he didn't wait to say yes. He lowered his head and took her mouth with possessive compulsion. His hand hooked deeper, pressing against the barrier that threatened destruction just from the force of his fingers alone. She gasped into his mouth, her entire body tensing against her better wishes.

He kissed her with ardent tenderness as she came, her hot, thick juices slathering his fingers still pumping inside her. She wasn't kissing him back as he'd hoped, but she wasn't pulling away from him either. He slowed his movements as she relaxed, and pulled away to smile at her blind, flushed face. She winced when he pulled his hand out of her, and could do nothing but wait as he laid on top of her, regarding her as he licked the juices from his fingers.

"You know that virginity you cling so feverishly too?" he asked. She scowled. "All that is, is a membrane of skin stopping me from making you feel even better than you did just now. I could have broken it just now, I could have pushed through it so easily, and I doubt you would have noticed. And you would no longer be an innocent maiden. Just like that."

"Losing your virginity is about more than just tearing through a piece of skin," she retorted. Jareth huffed at her, giving her a wry half-smile.

"You can't tell me you weren't thinking of having me inside you when your body tightened and squeezed and sucked my hand deeper -all that cum that's still pouring out of you, it's delicious. You're a greedy little thing, aren't you?"

"I asked you not to talk, didn't I?" she snapped.

"No, you didn't. You ordered, and you know how I feel about that..." he said, and reached behind her. For a moment, she thought he was going to un-cuff her. He unhooked her bra instead. "That feels better, doesn't it?" he asked. She refused to answer. "Oh, don't look at me like that. You should be smiling, we're almost halfway done," he said, and before she knew it, he'd picked her up and flipped her on her stomach.


	39. Rhetoric, part 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While unbeknown to her, Sarah has succeeded in obtaining the one thing the Goblin King has desired for hundreds of years -power over the Labyrinth. After being hidden for years from his diabolical wrath, Sarah finds herself alone and vulnerable as Jareth's dark desires are finally aloud to rear their ugly heads. As always, the only question is, are things really as they seem?

Sarah gruffed and snarled as her face pushed into the corner of the couch. She had no arms, so she was forced to lay her weight solely on her face. She tried sitting up, but hadn't thought of the implications of such an action. She drew her knees up, inadvertently raising her ass up in the air as she struggled. She felt his hand secure itself to the base of her back, holding her in place. She pulled against her cuffs.

She felt him move over her, wrapping his hand around to splay over her stomach, his hair tickling her shoulders and his breath against her ear.

"This is a good position for you," he said, earning him a swift jab from her elbow. She grunted, and tried pushing him off of her. "Ah, so now you fight?" he teased, and reached back to take hold of her wrists and push her down into the cushions roughly.

"Ugh -Jareth!"

"Mmm, say my name again." He spoke with a rumble of laughter, only making her more frustrated.

"Ugh, get off of me," she growled. He used his free hand to stroke up and down her thigh.

"So you decide to fight me when I'm _not_ touching you? You are greedy, aren't you? Well then...I think I know what to do," he said, and bit the back of her shoulder. He kept her back angled down, pushing her face hard into the couch, emphasizing his dominance over her, while leaving her ass held high and on display. She could feel his pelvis press against the backs of her thighs as he leaned over her. She tried to ignore it.

He lowered his hand again to reach between her thighs, his fingers making short work of her already over-worked skin. She felt swollen from being stretched, and heated from all the blood that was still rushing to her core. Jareth's expertise aside, was she even up for another orgasm?

His fingers pressed down on her clit, while his free hand swept across her back to leave her shoulders bare. He nipped a line down her spine and reached around to fondle one of her breasts. While his fingers pressed against her, his thumb began to slowly dip in and out of her, teasing her with weak penetration just as before. She was already wet, still dripping with remnants of her previous orgasms, but his minor touch started her up anew.

He pushed his thumb deeper into her, creating a new sensation that felt strange to her, but immediately struck a nerve that sent a jolt of something licentious straight through her stomach. She started squirming, whatever his thumb was pressing against was too intense, borderline uncomfortable. It was like something was blossoming inside her, and she was admittedly a little afraid to find out what would happen if it bloomed. Jareth's sharp teeth latched down on her shoulder blade, licking and sucking at her newly cleaned skin. He could taste the faint mist of sweat that had glazed her body. He wanted more.

"I really wish you hadn't bathed...your skin tasted so good," he murmured, with a tone that made it seem like _he_ was the one broiling with ecstasy. "But I can feel it heating up again...you'll get there soon enough." He nuzzled her back, pinching her nipple and working her with slow precision, gradually building her up, purposefully waiting for her to calm down and give in again before taking his hand away from her.

He brought his hand to grasp the round of her hip and ass, holding on and kneading her skin as he rocked against her. Sarah wasn't sure what he was doing, or what he was trying to do, but something peculiar started to happen. She felt her core begin to pulse with the loss of his touch, as if her body were outraged by its absence. It grew, stronger and stronger, until it was almost painful. She felt hot and swollen and dare she admit needy. He was so close to her, one hand at her hip, the other at her breast, his lips searing love bites between her shoulder blades. He was so close, yet he wasn't close enough. Her body pleaded for him. Why was this happening? She felt her blindfold start to inch itself up her face from all her rocking, and hastily brushed her face against the couch to put it back in place. ...Wait...

"Heheh...I knew that would help. You like it, don't you? You get to imagine that it isn't me, and still enjoy that it _is _me." He turned his thumb, and pressed harder against her. She made a sound just then, caught somewhere between a gasp and a moan. He smiled against her skin. "I bet you think that if you don't answer me, you don't have to take any credit in what's happening." He started to move lower as he spoke, adjusting his hands to replace his thumb with his middle and index finger. He moved in slow, deep thrusts as he kissed her, pausing to suck on one of her fingers before she had the chance to clench them into fists once more.

His free hand held her hip as he kissed the round of her rear. She tensed, having him so close, but couldn't really do much about it. She felt his fingers curl and tense into her flesh as he kissed his way down, an action that caught her attention. His fingers continued to move in a steady rhythm, trying to keep her preoccupied, but the way his kisses slowed as he moved lower put her on edge. She started to squirm.

His lips met the base of her thigh, and turned to travel sideways, his tongue darting out to graze along her stretched skin as his fingers moved. Sarah flinched away, her skin surprisingly more sensitive than before. He ran his tongue beneath her folds, savoring everything his fingers pumped out of her. His hand tightened again, and he rose his head a little to press his tongue against the sensitive skin of her perineum. She didn't know how she felt about that. Though, she wasn't really too worried about it however, until he moved up even further that is.

Sarah's body shot forward so fast it was like she'd been poked with a cattle-prod. She lunged, nearly toppling over the arm of the couch, and frantically scurried to get away, not bothering to question why Jareth was letting her.

"WOAH! What the fuck are you doing?!" she screamed, shocked, bewildered and mortified. She'd turned her head back to give him a ghastly stare, but of course it was useless. She yelped again when his hands went straight for her hips, jerking her back down with one quick tug before he rose his hand and slapped her square on the ass. She shrieked and tried to jump away again, but he held her down this time.

"Watch your language!" he commanded, his voice losing any trace of the sweet seduction it once had. Sarah's heart beat so furiously she could feel it in her ears.

"Did you just hit me? What the -"

"Swear again and I'll spank you so hard you won't be able to sit for a week," he threatened, keeping his voice hard and intimidating, but not quite vicious. Sarah shut her mouth and glared.

"Spank me? You really just spanked me? That's -that's-"

"What you do to spoiled little girls who need a good lesson in manners? Yes." His voice was stern, yet there was a hint of amusement beneath it. She sensed his sarcasm and huffed.

"What? Pff-Fine. No more F-bombs. But don't you dare do that again," she ordered, feeling a strong need to blow this situation way out of proportion, but for some reason let it be. She flinched when she felt his hand move to gently massage the smarting cheek of her rear.

"You know how I feel about orders..." he rumbled, a hint of salaciousness coming back to his voice.

"DON'T DO IT AGAIN."

"Manage your own muzzle and there will be no need-"

"No. I mean don't touch me _there_, again," she clarified. Jareth cocked his head a little, and paused before responding.

"Touch you where?" he goaded, running his hand conspicuously down her rear.

"You know what I'm talking about." Her voice was loud and demanding, becoming irritated with the sarcastic amusement she could hear in his voice. She was so _not_ fucking around right now.

"Do I? I think you need to spell it out for me," he said, and leaned forward to plant a lone kiss on the un-abused half of her ass. A violent shiver stood her every hair on end.

"It's bad enough I'm letting you do this to me. Stay away from my ass, that's gross," she said, keeping perfectly still with the hope that he would see how serious she was being just from the tone of her voice.

"Letting me? Sweet Sarah, your body is screaming for me." His hand massaged lower, carefully avoiding the spot in question to instead lightly fondle the opening of her sex. She was caught unawares by the moan that then broke free of her lungs so readily. Wasn't she angry and upset? Shouldn't that have killed the mood? How was he able... It amazed her that he knew _exactly_ what he was doing.

"Stay...away...Jareth..." she stammered, her body starting to relax against her will.

"Why? And what do you mean, _gross_? It's a perfectly natural point of stimulation," he asked, leaning down to kiss her again.

"I'm not comfortable with you touching me there. I'm not even comfortable with you touching me at all."

"Yet here we are..."

"Don't even. You said this is necessary. This is part of the rules. I lost. That's it."

"Mhmm," he murmured, dismissively, and splayed his free hand around her hip. His kisses moved lower...

"Jareth, I mean it -don't."

"You know you'll like it."

"No. I'm not in to that." He kissed the apex of her thigh, dangerously close to forbidden territory.

"How would you know...if you've never tried it..." His voice was slow and drawn out, barely over a whisper. He slid a finger inside her.

"Jareth-"

"There are so many things I'm going to do to you. This is nothing. I warned you before, you can't possibly imagine what it will be like to be ravaged by _me_." His head slowly rose as he spoke, and he darted his tongue out at the tail end of his sentence, lightly flicking against Sarah's most firmly restrained no-zone. Her body jerked, and her muscles flexed, deeply agitated by the intrusion and complete obliteration of her comfort zone. He smiled at her anxiety and reared up over her, his finger moving in and out of her never missing a beat, setting a base-line. He pressed his body against her, forcing her to flatten out some. She felt the coolness of his chest press against her heated back, and it was such a pleasant feeling that it sent waves of anxious tingles all over her skin. She could feel the dusting of hairs on his chest. For some reason, that one observation made her heart jump on a sharp intake of breath. "You're still bashful. I told you, there is no need for that. Not with me." His hair tangled with hers, his breath caught behind her ear, his voice lowered dangerously. His free hand took hold of the nape of her neck, keeping her still so he could whisper in her ear, "I will worship your body. _Every_ part of it."

And with that, she felt his hand adjust itself, and winced when a well lubricated finger brushed itself against her puckered opening. He moved his finger against her, gently, only applying the most minute pressure, allowing her to test the water, _or prepare herself for the worst_. She grimaced into the cushion. If she wasn't in to it, how did he expect her to get off from it?

"Relax..." he murmured, the hand in her hair moving to pet her like a wounded animal. Her breathing picked up dramatically. "Sarah...if you tell yourself this will be galling, than it will be. But if you relax, if you just use your restraints to your advantage, you have no idea how good it can feel. You have no reason not to trust me. I will take care of you." He spoke tenderly to her, not knowing if it would have any affect. She almost laughed at him. What a ludicrous thing for him to say to her and mean to have her take it seriously. He waited, letting his words have a purposefully delayed affect.

It seemed there was a tension in the air ...but strangely, the deeper his words bore, a part of Sarah's curiosity started to take her to places she had never been, places she was afraid to go. He knew how to manipulate her this way, and he also knew that when she discovered how wonderful those places could be, she would remember he was the one who showed her. She would come back to him, she would fall easier and faster. She would surrender. All she needed was a little push. He pet the back of her head and kissed the spot behind her ear. "Relax..."

He pressed his finger a little harder as he whispered into her hair. He was careful, tentative not to provoke her. Her body was still rigid, but was slowly starting to sink down into the cushions. His weight held her there, simulating a feeling of closure -or detainment (he opted for the former). He moved around her in gentle circles, pressing into her, but careful not to breech her until _she_ opened up for him. It didn't happen. Thankfully, it didn't need to.

Sarah's shoulders started to relax, lowering from their hunched up position. The strain on her eyes lessened, though her attentions remained heightened. She was _so_ uncomfortable with what was happening and ashamed that she was consciously idling by while he did this to her; but it was clear he had no intention of heading her pleas, so she tried instead, not to focus on what he was doing in _that _hole, but what he was doing to her in the other, more familiar one. _Fingers in the vagina. Alright. Focus. Focus._ Her thoughts murmured this mantra over and over, no matter how un-sexy it might be. All the while, she prayed whatever he intended to do wouldn't hurt.

"Jareth-" she pleaded, the thought of pain making her feel adverse all over again. He _shh'd_ her with soothing whispers.

"One step at a time," he said, pressing into her a little harder, but making it apparent that he recognized her apprehension. "Don't think...feel."

The more she relaxed, the easier it was for Jareth's fingers in her cleft and the one at her rear to find a rhythm. And before long, the familiar dead silence once again filled the room. Everything felt so still, everything but the steady undulations down below and the shallow panting of her breathing. For a split second, she'd never been happier to be blindfolded and smooshed face-down into the corner of a couch. She was hiding. Well, her pride was hiding.

She felt Jareth's hands on her and knew he was waiting for her to settle before he did anything further. Even though she'd told him no, she could only be somewhat grateful he was taking his time with her. What she didn't know, was that the _only_ reason he was so adamant in pushing this on her, was because he knew that her apprehension stemmed from fear of the unknown and embarrassment, and _not _because she truly disliked the physical action. He wasn't trying to upset her, but a part of experiencing sexuality was exploring it, and with one as naive as Sarah, some discomfort was a given. He however, knew exactly where and how to lead her. He knew that deep down she had the cravings of a vixen, and if he needed to push her a little harder than she wanted in order to awaken that, then so be it.

Sarah hummed in the back of her throat, and tried to think how things ended up in their current state. This encounter, it was so alike, and so different, from the previous. His actions were similar, her response was similar, but it no longer felt like the fate of the world rested on whether or not she admitted she actually liked what was happening, the truth of which being rather irrelevant. She felt a twinge in her stomach, a tight churning of sorts. She knew this feeling, she was starting to know it well. She also knew that something about it was different this time. It was more pronounced, and growing faster and faster. That's when she realized she wasn't panting from just the fingers he had inside her.

She gave low muffled moans as he fondled her, the feeling of his finger pressing against the pucker of her rear making her body hungry for something more. Her hips started to move with him of their own accord, pushing to meet him, wanting something deeper. She hadn't expected this, not at all. All he was doing was rubbing against her and it felt...so good. God, if her shame could see her now. She smothered her face into the cushion and squeezed her thighs together. She could feel herself sweating between her legs, but she didn't care, nor did she care how smug his reaction might be when she started pushing her rear up against him, into his hand. His jaw had settled on her shoulder, as if he were simply resting there. His eyes closed and his breathing turned dead-quiet as he continued to stroke her hair. He waited, keeping his movements constant and letting her do the rest all on her own.

Sarah's hips bucked against him a little harder, and her moans became more audible. She hummed into the couch, twisting and turning about as best she could beneath him. Once cool, his body was now so warm against hers. She was overheating fast. She could feel her wrists become slippery in their cuffs and her hair as it matted to her neck.

The churning inside her blossomed, burgeoning deep within her belly. It was starting to take over, the feeling, the freedom in her darkness, just like before. Just like before. She couldn't see him. She didn't have to face him. All she knew was pleasure, and that was all she wanted. She felt a heat flare from her groin. Her body relaxed as it tensed, a strange combination of movement as she writhed. He felt her muscles yield, and pushed.

Sarah cried out. She cried a loud, high pitch moan as Jareth's finger seized its opening, literally. He hadn't gone far, only up to the first knuckle, but her body was so relaxed in that moment he knew he could have plunged. Her body tightened like vice once registering his presence however, and she jerked away. He held her still, and moved his hand around inside her, both orifices claimed. Her breathing turned frantic and heavy, laced with squeals and high pitch whimpers, but he didn't stop, he couldn't. To pull out of her now would only cause pain. Instead, he tried to sooth her, help her relax and accept him. His fingers at her core continued to move in and out, while the one at her back simply flexed.

Sarah's panting continued to grow more and more feverish, spurred by pain and panic and pleasure and embarrassment. She tried to ignore the fact that he had one of his fingers in her, _there_, but she couldn't. She could however, feel the overpowering sensation of combined penetration. He was barely moving inside her and her body was sent straight to the edge. Her anxiety, her embarrassment, only seemed to heighten this. She clenched her eyes tight and dropped her mouth open, realizing it _would_ hurt if she didn't relax her body. She felt his hand brush away the damp hair from her neck, and replaced it with the softest, most tender peck of his lips, and that was it. She was done for.

She took in a sharp breath and moaned, clearly and begrudgingly. Every muscle in her body tensed, constricting and pulling him in deeper. She felt him exhale against her neck, seemingly overwhelmed by how tight and hot she'd become. Her body urged forward, away from the sensation. It was too much, too powerful. She wanted escape, she wanted it to stop. Her moan seemed to turn into a cry as her orgasm hit her, a feeling more shocking and profound than she could have ever hoped to imagine. Her muscles started to hurt, her body wanting him out just as much as it wanted him in. She didn't know what to do, the moment seemed to drag on forever.

When it was over, there were tears and beads of sweat streaming down her face. Her heart pounded as if she'd just ran a marathon, and her body tingled and twitched with aftershocks. She started shaking her head, the blindfold too hot and damp, it made her feel like she couldn't breathe. She was able to scoot it up to her eyebrows, freeing her flighty gaze to flicker and panic as her eyes adjusted to the light. All she could see was the deep green of the couch, riddled with all its gold embroidery, but upholstery was the last thing on her mind.

Jareth waited until the last tremor shot through her, allowing her body to relax itself before removing his hand from her. She didn't seem to notice, too dazed by the power of her climax to worry about it. The level of satisfaction he felt in that moment was unrivaled by any, so much so that he didn't even feel the need to brag. He lifted off of her slightly, giving her some space to catch her breath. After a moment, she turned, her wide, ferocious green eyes boring into him, their first contact since they'd started. And oh how he wanted, so badly, to clutch the sides of her face and kiss her just then. But he refrained. If this was going to work, he needed to play it strategically. He raised himself to lean on his hands, placed on either side of her.


	40. Rhetoric, part 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While unbeknown to her, Sarah has succeeded in obtaining the one thing the Goblin King has desired for hundreds of years -power over the Labyrinth. After being hidden for years from his diabolical wrath, Sarah finds herself alone and vulnerable as Jareth's dark desires are finally aloud to rear their ugly heads. As always, the only question is, are things really as they seem?

He waited for her to speak, to scream or cry, or even laugh for that matter; but she didn't. She just stared. He held her gaze as long as he could stand it, then reluctantly lowered his to her nose.

"Three down. Well done." Sarah's eyes were about to widen in horror at the prospect of having to do that two more times, when he continued. "I told you I would go easy on you tonight. We can stop now, if you'd like," he said, knowing that in the state she was in, it wouldn't take much before he could have his wicked way with her. But leaving her hanging like this would catch her off guard and leave her wanting. Well, he hoped it would anyway. She opened her mouth as if to babble, but no words came. His lips curled in a pleasant smirk. "Or not. I will keep going, if you'd like. I'll go as long as you want me to." His compromising, lighthearted tone succeeded in leaving her dumbfounded. She had one hundred percent anticipated some snarky remark about her giving in, about submission or about him winning and all the dirty things he had/was going to do to her, and she was equally anticipating the angry scream-match that would be soon to follow. But this didn't happen. No, instead, he was just staring down at her, with a seemingly sincere, haunting little smile. His eyes were bright, no longer hooded, and the room was still quiet, so deathly quiet. It was just him and her, like he'd said. She was starting to get that now. _Just the two of them... _She darted her eyes away, too physically and emotionally overwhelmed to handle looking at him the way he was.

"I-I think I've had enough for one night," she said, breathy and uncertain. She didn't catch the twitch of a smirk that flashed his features just then.

"If you say so," he said, and leaned up off of her.

* * *

The moment he was off of her, Sarah scrambled into a ball and huddled into the corner of the couch. She was on edge and beyond wary, her eyes scanning his mannerisms viciously. It was amidst this scrambling that she realized her hands had come unbound. She didn't waste time scurrying to grab up all her clothing. Luckily, or rather thankfully, they were all within arms' reach. She drew up her underwear, not the least bit concerned they were soaking wet, and quickly hooked her bra back in place. She found her shorts and t-shirt in a pile next to her on the floor, and hurriedly shucked them on, anxiously staring him down the entire time.

She watched him as he leaned back and settled into his side of the couch. His attention left her, his head turned to stare vacantly at nothing. Unlike her, he hadn't gone on a frantic search for his shirt, apparently content to lounge about as he was. Her eyes darted, catching on the heap of white linen and debated whether or not she should get it for him, just to alleviate her own stress.

She curled her knees up to her chest once she was well-secured within the safety of her apparel. It was quiet, the distilled silence of the room about to implode under the weight of her anxiety. She stared at him, her eyes having never been bigger, not knowing what the hell was going to happen nor what she should do about it. Last time, ...last time, he'd just up and vanished, leaving her to her own devices to deal with the aftermath. But...he hadn't left this time, and from the look of it, he wasn't planning on it any time soon. She didn't know what to do. The way he'd dismissed himself from her just now was much too sudden, and his seeming lassitude of disinterest worried her. She watched him like a ticking time bomb.

Awkwardness quickly began to devour the air between them, though she was wondering if she was the only one feeling it. He'd sprawled back in his seat, resting one forearm on the arm of the couch, his legs outstretched and spread wide. Her eyes flickered over him, as if mentally imprinting him for future reference. His hair covered most of his face, but his face wasn't what she was so focused on. She gulped and tore her eyes away.

Sarah felt like she was standing alone in the middle of one of Jareth's white rooms. What was she supposed to do? Just play it off like everything that had happened was no big deal? Apparently, that was the angle he was going for. While she thought that would be best, it was simply impossible. What'd he'd done...the dirty thing he'd done to her -she wasn't mentally prepared to deal with that. And he was leaving her out to dry. Why wasn't he talking? Picking on her? Holding his victory over her head like the arrogant bastard that he was? She ran a hand around one of her wrists, soothing the red markings her magic cuffs had left. It was over now, but she was still panting heavily, her senses still heightened to the extreme, still waiting for Jareth to turn back and tell her this was nothing but a brief intermission. But he didn't. He didn't do anything. He just stared out at the fire.

Sarah thought she must have been sitting there, twitching and gawking like an idiot, for about an hour now; but after gathering the courage to turn her head away from him, saw that it'd only been a minute or two. She took a deep breath, trying to clear out all the frazzle and awkwardness. If he was going to pretend nothing happened, then she would too. She looked over and reached for her book.

She flipped to the page she'd left off on, but was tapping her fingers against it too rapidly to put any effort into actually reading it. She kept glancing at him, out of the corner of her eye. He was being so quiet. All night he'd been quiet...until he'd pulled the cover off that little trick of his at least -then she couldn't get him to shut up. She watched him, and was made strangely aware of all the subtle nuances about his body.

She never thought she would be so attracted to a man like Jareth. He wasn't muscular, he wasn't tan. He wasn't the boy next door. He was very lean, long arms and legs, perfect pale skin. He had such a high level of androgyny that she knew most of the other girls she back home would find him nothing but...odd. And yet...as she examined him, she realized, that _that_ was the aspect that made him so erotic. He had an alien quality that was so different from human men, and surprisingly, it had nothing to do with his otherworldly hair and apparel. But no matter how androgynous he may be, there was never any question in her mind whether or not he was one-hundred percent male. And to be able to convey that, to be able to exude such an unparalleled level of dominance and overtly male, heterosexual, sexuality while wielding such, arguably, feminine traits could stand to tell just how powerful of a force he was. Normally, she would be looking at the cut of a man's shoulder, or the dip and climb of their abs. But not with Jareth. No, when she stared at him, it was the most modest of subtleties that made her heart quicken: it wasn't the protrusion of muscle, but the slender line, the contour curve of his waist as he slouched back in his seat, the shadowed hallow cast by the clavicles framing his neck, the way his wrists bent as he lounged. They were such meager observations, yet, she found there to be such a high level or eroticism in them. Why was that? Why did the mere sight of those things have her stomach twisting up in knots? There was a darkness of negative space behind where his hair draped over his shoulder. And that angle, that slender curve of his neck. She wanted to kiss it. She saw his chest expand on a breath, and was exceedingly thankful for the distraction.

"Are you sure you want to stop?" he asked, and quirked her a brow. Apparently, she wasn't completely drained of endorphins yet. She blushed and looked away, realizing she hadn't bothered thinking of that stupid door while she, quite obviously, checked him out. ...and still he didn't comment? Where was the sass? All the salacious devilry? His indifference was starting to sober the atmosphere, though she was surprised to find herself conflicted by that. She was silent as she composed herself.

"What was all that red stuff on your shirt?" she asked, trying to change the subject and move on with the night. She'd go crazy otherwise. He shrugged, and closed his eyes in a slow blink.

"Blood," he answered. Sarah's brow drew, and she lowered her book to her lap.

"What? Why is there blood splattered all over your shirt?"

"It's not mine," he said, as if that mattered. She scowled a little further.

"I don't care. What happened?" she asked, wondering if this was perhaps whatever Roldan had been so concerned over. Jareth sagged back further, rolling his head back to look up at the ceiling, though his eyes were closed. She used this opportunity to steal a free glance. She cocked her head slightly. ...For getting so worked up and doing so many things...there wasn't a trace of arousal about him. His pants were tight enough...him, she was really starting to wonder about him. She couldn't believe that it could simply his level of self-restraint that kept him so well composed. For talking about her the way he did, it stood to say she wasn't the only one getting worked up and yet...She was so distracted with staring at his crotch, she almost missed what he said.

"I wanted to make something bleed..." His tongue lingered on the last word, curling around it as if caught in a stupor. Her scowl turned to a glare.

"Why? You _wanted_ to? What-"

"It's none of your concern," he interrupted, rolling his head to look at her. When their eyes met, she found herself unable to speak. "I was presented with a certain inconvenience, and it was dealt with accordingly." This change in topic helped her settle in her seat.

"So was that what Roldan was so worried about? That you were off hurting someone?" she asked. Jareth's gaze flashed to her then, suddenly sharper.

"Roldan was worried?" he countered. Sarah glared.

"Apparently, someone cares for your well being. He'd thought I'd done something...I didn't do anything, did I?" she heard herself ask, timidly. She wasn't planning on bringing this up, it just kind of happened, but if Jareth really was out inflicting pain she wouldn't be able to stand the guilt if it was because of her. Jareth shook his head, but her eyes caught on his hand as it gripped the arm of the couch.

"No."

She looked away, feeling not just awkward now, but defeated too. She wanted to yell at him about whatever it was he'd done to God knows who, but truth be told, she was afraid of what she would find out. She looked down at her book, feeling the urge to whip it across the room. She politely closed it and set it aside instead. She tried to ignore him after that, but it was impossible not to feel his presence when he was near. She wondered if it were the same way for him...probably not.

"You're not leaving?" she asked, as if the answer to that weren't apparent enough already.

"Do you want me to leave?" he countered. She shifted in her seat.

"Uhh-it -it's just that you left last time..." she wasn't really sure what she was saying, or what she wanted to hear from him, and was already highly regretting asking him in the first place. She continued to watch him, growing somewhat anxious with the way he kept his gaze out in front of him.

"Last time, you wanted me to leave," he said. Sarah had to physically hide her reaction to his words by shifting her feet around and looking away. "It was a part of your rules." he added. She shot him an eye, watching as he readjusted himself in his spot. Hm, it seemed they were both feeling a little uncomfortable with this topic. "Our agreement, was that I would leave you alone once we were finished. And I did." He paused just then, and slowly rose his eyes to hers, as if passing along some kind of secret understanding. She tried not to get antsy.

"You left before the five minutes were up," she pointed out, not knowing what else to say.

"I went easy on you that night as well," he said, and paused to hold her gaze before picking back up again. "The only reason I left you was because it was what you wanted of me. We made no such stipulation this time around, and so I choose to share your company until I see fit." He'd meant his words somewhat scoldingly, keeping a sharp sting to his tone, but that wasn't the effect that was had on Sarah. She held his gaze, taking note of all the silent admonishment in his stare. It was obvious he was still clueless about what her problem was that night, and was directing his aggravation on the matter back onto her, but she didn't care. He'd said that the only reason he left was because it was what she wanted...but... the truth was the complete opposite. He really had no idea? Really? ...Thank god.

A large weight lifted from her shoulders with that one simple sentence. She thought he left her there to humiliate her, but...he said he did it because he thought that was what she wanted of him. In a way, he did it for her. A new perspective was starting to dawn on her, carried by the echo of an edict once pleaded at her feet. _Everything I have done, I have done for you._ ...And she was always so quick to cast him the villain...

She started to scowl as she thought of this. No, she was still overrun from their not so little indiscretion. Her emotions were getting the better of her. No matter what it was, it always seemed to turn itself around on her; even when _he_ was the one that caused her pain, _she_ was the one to end up feeling guilty about it. No. That was just more backwards bullshit and deviant manipulation. If there was one thing she knew for sure by now, it was that Jareth knew how to get what he wanted out of people. He knew how to manipulate and influence and trick. It was in his nature, after all. She started to feel mighty foolish then, foolish for feeling guilty towards him and foolish for being upset in the first place. She huffed through her nose, now slightly irritated. She needed a distraction, or an outlet. Her miffed little eyes roamed off to the side, and caught on a reflection of the fire bouncing off the crystal he'd given her. She pursed her lips and reached for it, turning back to him with an accusatory stare.

"So...I guess this a dud then?" she asked. He quirked his brow and turned an eye towards her, his sluggishness only made her more persistent. "This crystal, it was just a gimmick to fool me into letting my guard down, wasn't it?" Jareth's bored gaze became more mindful then.

"Actually, I was completely sincere in my attempt to make amends. The fact that it worked as a ploy was merely a favorable consequence. It will do everything I said it will. You've been well behaved the past few days; I thought it might be something you would like," he explained. Sarah narrowed her eyes and glanced down to the ball in her hand, as if examining the crystal for flaws.

"But -I thought you changed it so they didn't remember me, like I asked. Even if I share their dreams, they won't recognize me."

"They will know you in their dreams, and forget once they wake."

"Hmm..." she murmured, distracted. She stared at the crystal, pondering all that it meant. It stood as a gift from Jareth, a token of supposed apology and good faith -the first of many no doubt- and not a very good one at that. The sentiment was fine, but the actual gift didn't seem like a very good calculation on his part. Wasn't he always trying to urge her to shut up about her past and move on? And yet he'd given her a direct connection to it. If she was going to move on, it would be best not to have these little strings holding her back; not to say she wasn't thrilled with it, she shouldn't have to give up her old life cold-turkey, but still, from Jareth's perspective it didn't make sense. Maybe this showed just how..._equivocal_ he was about the entire situation. He said he'd been thinking about it...and he did look genuinely uncomfortable while presenting it to her... She was pretty sure he wasn't used to apologizing, to making amends or concessions. Was that the right word for it then? A concession? Could he really have done something out of character in order to compromise and make her happy? WOW! But even still, that didn't change the pretense that it was given under.

She'd felt so happy when he'd given it to her, and then so disgusted when it had all been a front. Even if it really did work, there was no doubt in her mind that the entire night, every word, every little gesture on his part had been premeditated. Dinner, snacks by the fire, all of it, all of his good nature and non-threatening demeanor. The whole time he was calculating a way in which he could crawl under her skin. And he did. He got his way, like always. But tonight, she wasn't that upset over it. No matter how irritated she thought she should be, all she could do was compare it to the other night. That night had ended so poorly, and this...well this was going rather well. So well in fact, that that naughty little part of her conscience was proposing she start taking advantage of it; why let him take advantage of her body when she could take advantage of his? Free orgasms every night with no obligation to reciprocate? Now that idea didn't sound too shabby...

Feeling herself about to trek down a path she knew better than to follow, she set the orb on the table and stood, eager to head for the bathroom and take care of things. She felt all sticky with sweat, and her hair was matted, not to mention the more than uncomfortable amount of fluids slowly oozing out of her and smearing down her legs. She stood, but got no more than a step or two before being firmly halted in her tracks.

"Where do you think you're going?"

She heard Jareth's voice boom from over her shoulder. It wasn't much louder than a normal speaking voice, but something about his tone worried her. There was a ...fickleness to it. She glanced back and saw his head had turned fully towards her and his gaze was deadlocked onto her face. In that split-second of recognition, she drew her brow on him. While seemingly lax, she could tell there was a tension moving through his body, and his eyes, once adrift and indifferent, were totally focused and beamed bright with energy. She began to grow worried with his sudden reaction. What was his problem? She pursed her lips and gave him a weird little shrug.

"To the bathroom?" she asked, skeptically. Jareth's demeanor only hardened, as if challenging her to a stand off. His eyes nearly burned her.

"If you're going to cry, you can do it in front of me," he said, his voice low and clipped.

Sarah tilted her head then, regarding him with curiosity. He was...he was ...worried. Worried about her? Worried that she would be upset like last time? But that was...that was just silly. Obviously she wasn't feeling the devastation she did the other night. And he'd been so sure of himself...then again, he was sure of himself that night too.

Something deeply satisfying settled over her as she processed his words. The energy in his eyes...the way he demanded her so impulsively. He wasn't...no...he couldn't possibly have been, dare she say, nervous? Jareth, the mighty Goblin King, was nervous? She wanted to purse her lips and giggle at him, finally able to know what it felt like to have the upper hand. She thought back, wondering what could have set him off this way, and realized, that every time she cried, his actions, his personality even, altered greatly -from the time he'd crushed her hand to now. Hmm...he didn't like having to deal with her tears? Well, that wasn't very surprising, he was a man after all, and, along with apologizing, he probably wasn't used to having to deal with emotional women. _Hmph, I think I've just found my first weapon..._ she thought to herself. Liana had told her to use herself as a weapon, but she'd thought she'd meant that in a strictly sexual way, and she wasn't ready or able to wield herself like that -he would crush her in an instant. But...as she was now discovering, she could use herself in other ways, not using her body to bewitch him into getting her way, but using her emotions to make him uncomfortable enough to get her way -not that she would actually fall apart and resort to Teary Tina every time she wanted something, it would lose its affect right quick, but still. She'd found a hole in his armor, and she savored it with all her being.

"I...I was just going to clean myself up," she said, maintaining her wary composure in order to hide her inner triumph. Jareth's eyes remained hard on hers, and twitched as they regarded her.

She didn't wait for him to give her permission. She turned, making her way to the door, and placed a hand over the handle. She pushed down and heard the latch click open. She was about to push it open when she paused, looking down to the floor, and smiled.


	41. The Right Words

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While unbeknown to her, Sarah has succeeded in obtaining the one thing the Goblin King has desired for hundreds of years -power over the Labyrinth. After being hidden for years from his diabolical wrath, Sarah finds herself alone and vulnerable as Jareth's dark desires are finally aloud to rear their ugly heads. As always, the only question is, are things really as they seem?

Chapter 12, The Right Words

* * *

Sarah stood, narrow-eyed and growing more and more frustrated by the minute. The hand on her hip dug into the folds of her shirt, while the other gripped her chin, her index finger tapping restlessly against a thoroughly-gnawed lower lip. Her eyes scanned the map placed in front of her viciously, darting from it to the cluster of colored pins awaiting their destinations. Its empty space was starting to taunt her. She groaned in the back of her throat.

"Please, do take as much time as you need. It isn't as if you've had the past three days to prepare yourself or anything."

She glared up at that, snarling her lip at Roldan's stern expression of blatant and utter boredom. He'd been staring her down like this for the past ten minutes now, not moving a single muscle. Until just now, she'd nearly forgotten he was still there.

It was safe to say that Sarah was feeling more than a little distracted today. A feeling of impatience and anxiety had been building up over the past few days or so, and had just now chosen to manifest itself, during her first test no less. Perfect. She'd been trying to push it away, it ignore it as much as possible, but there was no helping it today. It had taken a back seat on her priority list long enough. She knew the reason for this distress, she knew what was making her so antsy; but above all else, she refused to acknowledge it. No, no, that could all wait. She had an examination to get back to after all. So instead, she tried to distract herself from her distraction by focusing on Roldan and not ...other delectable miscreants.

His arms were crossed tightly over his chest, and if she didn't know better, she would say he was using every ounce of self-control he had not to start tapping his foot at her. He held her silent glare, before giving up and rolling his eyes. His shoulders rose and fell, terminating his petrified stance, and then he moved to take a few steps away. She crinkled her nose and looked back down to the map, then reached out with a tentative finger, but paused mid-air before choosing. Roldan had made the round of the table and turned back to face her, leaning forward to place both his hands flat-palm on the table. His glare was a foreboding one.

She could feel the weight of his stare as he watched her and scrunched her brow with worry, his gaze urging her to hurry it up. She curled her fingers and picked the blue marker from the pile and looked up to him for reassurance.

"Blue is for the Ironmey, right?" she asked. A curt nod was his answer. She moved the piece out over the map, her hand hovering over her spot of intuition. Roldan watched her like a hawk.

Sarah tried her best to ignore Roldan as he boiled with impatience and concentrate on the task at hand. He was right, she'd had over three days to study for this. She should know it. She did know it. Only, for some reason, she was drawing a total blank. She was just too distracted, distracted with thoughts much more pertinent than Underground geography. She stared at the map, and thought and thought and thought until she became frustrated with her own incompetence. Now wouldn't be the time to crack a joke, but she felt the urge to make point that this time, she and Roldan were wading in the same boat. She wondered what Jareth was doing.

She'd been able to point out the Goblin Kingdom easy enough. That one had a red pin. That left seven more to go. The Eight Seats of The Council. The eight kingdoms of the Underground, or, as she had learned more-or-less, the Underground continents.

Geography wasn't really her favorite subject, but it wasn't exactly a difficult one. She'd been studying for this test for about 4 days now, and she thought she had it down pat. Her test was only on one of the continents after all, and that continent only had eight countries in it. She narrowed her eyes on the lower right section of the continent. It had a hook that curled down; one of her tricks for remembering was that it reminded her of an ice-pick, which are made of "iron", hence Ironmey. She placed the blue marker over it and looked back up to Roldan, who's impassive observance gave away nothing. Apparently, she wasn't getting graded until the end. She groaned again, wondering in the back of her mind whether or not, wherever he was and for whatever reason, Jareth was just as frustrated as she was right now. Her spite surely hoped so, and her anxiety intruded a little further.

Sarah wasn't really sure what to think in regards to the physics of the Underground. She'd never had a reason to. Was it a plane of sorts? And what did that mean? Where were its boundaries? Did it even have boundaries? Or was it something like another dimension? And if that were the case, did the Underground exist on its own planet? Did it have its own universe? Were there other planets? What else was out there? What about science? She'd asked Roldan all of these questions and more. Truth be told, Roldan didn't know much about mathematical science and physics; he did however enlighten her with the confirmation that the Underground existed as something akin to a parallel space, existing alongside the Aboveground. That meant that there was indeed a planet, logistically identical to Earth, only...different. This Earth had its own physics, its own rules, its own continents. When she'd asked about other galaxies and science and Einstein, Roldan merely brushed her off by saying that magic was a fundamental part of the Underground's existence, and therefore the need to explore it through scientific means became naught. He then went on to say that _humans, with their inevitability and imperfections, feel the constant need to make the most of their existence before their short lives end_; while beings of his world, however, _who were blessed with such longevity, do not have any need for such curiosity, and therefore are content to enjoy life in its simplicity_. Sarah saw a certain logic in this, the whole ignorance is bliss/never look a gift horse in the mouth kind of thing, but she still couldn't fathom how over the course of eons no one had taken any interest in answering those questions. She also supposed that the integration of magic made everything infinitely more complicated. And he was right, humans did have a thoroughly rooted sense of curiosity that, arguably, was as favorable to the furtherance of mankind as it was destructive. She also knew that humans as a species were never content with what they had, and were always looking into the future, trying to make it better. But Roldan said the Fae, and other Underground breeds, weren't like that. They were content to live in the present, and since there was no real transgression of time, all they had was the present. Ironically, she found this curious, but, instead of pursuing that discussion, chose to save her confusion for another time. She was sure it would be revisited soon enough.

But none of that had any relevance or was of any help to her at the moment. Right now, she was being quizzed on the locations of the eight kingdoms of Orpia (she'd learned that that was the name of the continent they were currently standing on, arrogantly named after the original High King, Orpus. There were two other major continents, but they hadn't gotten that far yet). She reached for the purple piece next. That one was for the Isles of Masoch. There were a cluster of islands that formed a swooping L on the southern tip of the continent -from the name alone, she figured that must be Masoch. She reached for yellow next (Yore). She knew from her conversation with Jareth that the Goblin Kingdom had acquired land bordering the Athom Sea from Yore way back when. There was only one major body of water bordering the Goblin Kingdom which crossed over into only one other country -she figured that to be Yore. She knew Erastor bordered the Goblin Kingdom as well, since one of their boars destroyed Sulu last week, but the Goblin Kingdom was located smack-dab in the center of Orpia, it was bordered on all sides, which meant there were still four more unnamed countries, only one of which being Erastor. She let it be for now.

Her eyes moved upward and snagged on a thought. She wasn't sure, but she thought that Meyhaven was on a hug-ass peninsula, and there was one such huge-ass peninsula jutting out at the upper left. She grabbed the gold marker and set it there. That left her with a grey pin, a green pin, and an orange pin -The Shadow Lands, Erastor, and The Plains of Jeju. She really used her observational skills here and started picking apart the map's topography.

There was a large mountain range towards the northern border of the Goblin Kingdom, she figured that was where Davion was right now. The unnamed countries were above, below, and to the right. She saw the country to the south had a lot of rough terrain, as well as the country to the north. A kingdom with "plains" in the name probably wouldn't have mountains, so that left her with the land to the right. She put the orange marker there. She went on a limb and said Erastor was to the south, merely because the territory to the north took up it's own chunk which left it all alone, and with a cryptic name like "Shadow Lands" she figured it was someplace remote. When she was somewhat sure of herself, she clasped her hands and looked up to Roldan.

"Is this your final decision then?" he asked, with a tone that had her worrying she'd fucked something up. She looked out over the map one last time, then nodded, watching him warily as he stood and walked back around the table. "Well done," he said. She sighed away some of her tension and smiled.

"See, piece of cake," she said, mounting her hands on her hips to revel in her handiwork. Roldan rose a brow at her.

"Yes, well, it certainly took you long enough to eat that piece of cake," he mocked. She brushed off his comment with a shrug, and started clearing off the map before speaking up again.

"So...I've been thinking-"

"Really now?" he interrupted. She shot him an eye.

"...Yes. I've been thinking, and I find it odd that the Goblin Kingdom is located in the middle of everything...and...from the looks of it, we're -I mean- the Castle Beyond the Goblin City, is right smack in the middle of the entire continent."

"Your point?"

"Well...I know that most of the area in the southern half was given by Yore, and you said that most of the area north was claimed from the Shadow Lands during the war, which, originally, would have made the Goblin Kingdom the smallest province of the eight."

"I think I see what you're leading towards...that would be because, the territory that is now the Goblin Kingdom, was originally the capital city under Orpus," he explained. Sarah's brow rose. All the time they'd spent learning about history and he hadn't thought to mention that?

"Really? The entire province was one city? That's crazy. And that would mean-"

"That this castle was once that of the High King of Orpia? Yes."

Sarah was flabbergasted for all of two seconds, before something put a sour on her features.

"Really? ...If that's so, then...what the hell happened?" she asked. Roldan looked marginally taken aback -marginally.

"Am I to infer that you are implying that things have gone down hill since then?" he asked, though she wasn't able to discern if he was trying to joke with her or not. Roldan joked very rarely. She rolled her head and shrugged.

"Well...come on now. This castle is great n' all, but we've both seen the city. It doesn't exactly look like the center of an ancient legendary monarchy." She took a chance and opted for joking, and was pleased when he shrugged rather than scowled.

"Yes, well, change is often slow in its progression while rapid in its aftermath, I can assure you. The land was a much different place back then. That, and with the rapidity Goblins reproduce, the Goblin monarchs have done their best to maintain it. As it appears, there has never been a ruler as...proficient as Orpus," he explained.

Sarah nodded like she understood, and in a way she was starting to. She thought back, back to an earlier discussion she and Roldan had had on this topic.

Initially, after Orpus died, for whatever strange reason, a new prime monarch was elected. This only lasted for a few years -as instability grew with the difficulty that came in maintaining a kingdom so large. Soon, there were disputes among the lords regarding policy, something which, as Roldan assured her, never happened under Orpus. As one could easily guess, there was a rebellion, there was a war and an assassination, the result of which being eight districts under no rule. After the failure of the replacement king (she couldn't remember his name), it was agreed upon that there were no living beings qualified nor capable of holding together a kingdom as large as Orpia, (Sarah was baffled that the Underground kings were such a humble bunch), and so it was also agreed that Orpia be dissolved into eight independent countries (she then wondered if it was humbleness or rational greed that spurred this on). Remembering all this brought another question to Sarah's mind.

"So...if the Goblin Kingdom was originally the capital city, how did they decide who would rule it once Orpus died? It wouldn't have a lord after all..." Roldan's face made a gesture that signified that that was a good question.

"Exelion was hand to the High King during his rule. Once it was decided upon that the provinces would be split, Exelion held the most legitimate claim to the throne," he explained. Sarah nodded aimlessly as she watched him start to pick up all the little pins and roll the map back up into a scroll.

"Hm...what about the other continents?" she asked.

"Ognioux and Parlnah," he stated. She stared at him until he said something more. "Ognioux is relatively unexplored by those of Orpia, and the people of the Ogny are what you would refer to as...primitive. The few areas that are hospitable are ruled over by a few tribal warlords. There isn't much you need to know about the Ogny other than its spice and exotic animal trade."

"Oh. And Parllllannnnah?" she asked further, moving to step alongside him as he walked across the room to put the map back in whatever filing cabinet it had come from.

"_Parlnah_," he corrected. "Parlnah is the smallest of the three continents, which I'm sure you've gathered. There has never been much dispute between the Parlnese lords and the Orpia. Even though it is a small territory, it is broken up into a great number of kingdoms, though we here refer to them as mere city-states. They are peaceful, and relatively self-sustaining. They tend to keep to themselves...though I believe Maruna -Queen Regent of Jeju- has Parlnese blood in her." He seemed to be speaking to himself at this point, as Sarah had absolutely no idea who the hell _Maruna_ was.

"Hm, I see. And are they ruled by Fae as well -in the Ogny and Parlnah?" she asked, curious to know if Fae were the dominant native breed. Roldan paused after shutting the cabinet, turning to face her before responding.

"Some nations. Though, I may remind you that not all nations of Orpia are ruled by Fae either," he said, and moved passed her towards the dining table. She looked over and saw a couple of Goblins setting up their lunch. She hadn't realized so much time had gone by already. It seemed her head was just off in another world today. "While you humans have varying _races_, the Underground is inhabited by varying _species_. Some of the more prominent species of the Underground include the Fae, Nymph, Imp, and Elven people. All of which have a number of sub-races." They'd made it to the table at this point, and as Sarah had come to expect, she waited as he pulled out her chair for her before rounding the table to sit in his own.

"Hm...then there's Goblins," she murmured, mildly distracted with examining the contents of her meal. She usually got to chose her meals, even while with Jareth, which was nearly always something indigenous of the Aboveground. But Roldan didn't seem to care about her personal preference. Every day he fed her some mystery concoction of Underground brew. She didn't have the courage, nor the stomach to ask what it was, and forced herself to take joy that it did taste good despite its appearance. It was a good thing she wasn't a picky eater.

"Goblins, Trolls, Ogres, Orcs, Fairies, Golems...There are a plethora of subspecies inhabiting this world. Some...more simple-minded than others."

She'd been eyeing him as he'd said that and pointed at him with her fork as she spoke,

"You don't care much for Goblins, do you?" she asked. Roldan closed his eyes briefly and shrugged.

"They are compliant, loyal, determined, strong-spirited, resilient-"

"But you think they're stupid, is that it? Not good enough to co-mingle with the all-mighty Fae?" she interrupted, feeling a little protective over her friends/would-be subjects. Roldan sensed this, and, for reasons oblivious to Sarah, chose his words more carefully.

"They serve their purpose as well as any other. I merely fail to understand why the King chooses to surround himself with those creatures rather than his own kind."

"Hm, yea..that makes sense. It is a little strange, isn't it?" she conceded, understanding his confusion as one she felt herself. This castle was beyond huge, just that in itself required a large staff. And, bless their hearts, but Goblins weren't always the brightest creatures, and in matters regarding the state, she often worried what Jareth's reasoning was for having them work so closely to him rather than other Fae, like Roldan. And while she was fairly sure Roldan was competent for the job in every sense, he was just one person. And on top of all that, didn't it get lonely being stuck up in this castle with nothing but a bunch of bumbling Goblins? That was another thing she often wondered about...Jareth and Roldan, two fully grown males living alone in a dark and dusty castle for decades, maybe even hundreds of years...

She peered up to Roldan then, a wry twinkle in her eye. He narrowed his eyes on her slightly, wondering why in the world she was smiling at him like that all of a sudden, but she schooled her features before he had the chance to question her. She turned her attentions back to her thoughts,

And then there was Davion -that bumped the list up to three adult males. What did they do with all their free time? Alone. Together. Or not. The naughtier part of her conscience was starting to giggle, trying to picture what it might be like to happen across the two brothers and Roldan in a possibly compromising situation, and was surprised to find an even tinier part of herself not giggling, but instead grinning with dastardly intrigue. This got her thinking._...Well...definitely not Roldan, but two brothers? Brothers who were Jareth and Davion? _Now that was a new and surprising fantasy which Sarah refused to acknowledge, and therefore added to the now mounting pile of other distractions still humming about her brain. And yet the image remained. She mentally scolded herself for such a thought, tisking the new sense of gall the seemed to accompany her antsy-ness. Her mind was just all over the place, imagining things that should never see the light of day.

If one thing was for certain these days, it was that Jareth was having a very, very bad influence on her. These past few days, or nights, with him had left her feeling loose and wanton. And while she knew that ultimately that was a bad thing, it was also very relaxing. She'd been so uptight and short-tempered since she got here -rightfully so; but, as she would never admit, she was starting to see that Jareth may have been right about "exorcizing all her pent up frustrations". She was finally starting to loosen up enough to feel more like her old self -the self that had no problem getting down and dirty with her own thoughts. She blamed Becky for that. But regardless of the root cause, she knew that kind of behavior wasn't good and would only make her sorry in the end. This wasn't high school and these weren't teenage boys. Her thoughts, once private, mattered now, as she found herself entangled with a man who could sit back and watch them like a prime time movie. She needed to keep herself in-check, before she started enjoying these lessons a little too much.

And with that bit of self-righteousness, she forced her mind away from delectable threesomes towards safer, more practical thoughts -Like the fact that Davion was all the way up north and well out of reach. She wondered what his castle was like up there. Was he all alone too? Or did he keep himself riddled with companions? Was this solitude a cultural thing, or was Jareth's reclusiveness just as odd to everyone else as it was to her?

She began to pick at her food as she thought, her mind wandering dangerously yet again. Thoughts of Jareth and loneliness reminded her that she herself was starting to feel something along those lines.

Today was Friday, which meant that it had been three days since the commencement of _the game_. She nearly cringed every time she thought of it, as it was a title that was often accompanied by a booming _dun dun dun_ sound in the back of her head. Three days. Three days, or three nights rather, that she and Jareth had engaged in what he called, _an intimate exploration in the refinement of the art of communication_. She both dreaded and anticipated the moment he came breezing through her door each night.

A part of her hated it, hated that she was forced to sit there and count down the minutes until he would come and do all those nasty things to her, that she knew it was going to happen, that they had conferred and planned it all before hand. It was gross and disgraceful. But count down the minutes she did.

She still refused to admit it, but she was really starting to take a liking to Jareth's specific brand of nastiness. And after three nights of it, she was starting to feel a little more...comfortable about it. She knew what he was going to do, she knew how many times he would do it, and she was almost fairly certain that he wouldn't take it too far. That, combined with the fact that she had absolutely no obligation or compulsion to reciprocate in any fashion, was starting to make her a little greedy.

With that said, Sarah would try with all her might to stave him off. This was still training after all, and telling herself this was strictly business helped keep some of the shame away, shame that had no qualm keeping itself quiet all night long. It wasn't until he left her, until she was alone in the dark that it would start trickling back, whispering all kinds of nasty things in her ears, telling her she was a traitor and a hypocrite, that she was weak and horrid for, not just giving in, but for actually enjoying it. It was a constant war in her mind that kept her staring up at the ceiling well after he had left her. But once again, she had to thank Jareth, for having given her the crystal to shut those voices right up.

The first night, Sarah was still a little skeptical about the whole sleeping with a magic crystal thing. One part of her questioned whether it would work at all, while the other was suspicious that it did something completely different, and that she was giving Jareth an open door into her psyche. She rationalized this by saying that Jareth didn't need any kind of door into her psyche and so she had nothing to lose by trying.

She'd woken up a few minutes before Jareth had arrived that next morning, and found herself beaming with a smile into her pillow. It was a strange dream, or a strange series of dreams rather. She wasn't really sure what was going on for most of it, but she did remember seeing Toby and Karen and her dad. She remembered riding a dinosaur with Toby, and seeing her parents fly by on a pterodactyl -she figured that was one of Toby's dreams. Then they were on a beach. Everything was hazy and the sun was setting. She was building a sand castle with Toby, and remembered seeing Karen and her father sharing drinks on a patio, and thought this dream was one of Karen's memories from a vacation they'd taken a couple of years ago. There were a bunch of brief, random scenes she couldn't quite place, but those two stood out to her clear as day. She remembered the looks on their faces, the way they smiled at her, the way they knew her. It made her so happy she wanted to cry.

She slept with the crystal every night since, bouncing between more strange dreams than she could count. And the best part? Jareth wasn't in any of them. Whether he had designed the crystal to keep him out, or was doing it merely on principle, he was keeping true to his word. She wondered how long that would last. And surprisingly, those thoughts didn't arise from suspicion of Jareth's integrity.

While she hated the way he invaded and manipulated her mind, she would be a dirty liar if she said it wasn't somewhat enticing. And after the past few nights, those dreams were only growing in allure. Again, the idea of being able to enjoy something sinful without real consequence was gnawing on her sense of better judgement. Curiosity was starting to become a danger to her, and she feared the vile creature it would become if she continued to let it grow within her. What would happen the first night she slept without the crystal? Would he be there the moment she fell asleep? Or would she dream on her own? What if she say...forgot and left the crystal on the table? Could she trust herself to play off her fading innocence? No. She was beginning to realize that these lessons of his may have come with a bit of a snowball affect. First she'd get greedy with lessons, then she'd start wanting dreams. What would be next? How long before he got what he wanted out of her? And was that his intention with this all along? Was she really letting him manipulate her so easily? It seemed pretty clear that the answer to that question could be nothing else but yes. And deep down, she already knew that, which meant she was letting him manipulate her, for the sole reason that she really just didn't care. And that was the point. He was doing this on purpose. A dangerous cycle was starting to form. But it was still early on. It was a good thing that she was catching it now. She still stood a chance of stopping it dead in its tracks.

As she pushed the mystery food around her plate, her mind jumbling with thoughts that should never be in combination with one another, Sarah thought that it was probably a good thing she hadn't seen very much of him these past few days.

That first night, he'd spent a great deal of time with her; but since then, it seemed to her that he was suddenly very busy. And she took this as _seemingly_, since he wasn't around enough to actually tell her where or what he had been doing with all his time.

Though, without fail, just as he'd said, he was there to wake her every morning. They'd share breakfast and small talk, but Sarah was usually too groggy to engage in any amount of real conversation. After she'd head off to Roldan she wouldn't she nor hear from him until that evening. Usually, he'd make an effort to at least pop in and check up on/terrorize her, and she was surprised to find herself worried when, for the past three days, this hadn't happened. She'd leave Roldan for the day and retire to her room, half expecting/anticipating a surprise, or not so surprise, visit from Jareth, only to be left alone and foolish. She'd scolded herself countlessly. Why in the world was she angry he wasn't pestering her? Wasn't she always annoyed when he just waltzed in without preamble?

On a good note, her solitude had given her the time and freedom to do a little exploring. She'd force herself to stick to her room until she'd at least finished all her homework, but after an hour or two of that and still no Jareth, she found herself lost without purpose.

She'd wander the halls, hoping and not hoping to run into any kind of excitement that may or may not have been a certain despicable king or other. She'd made her way to a couple of the games rooms she'd visited previously, but after five hours that felt like fifteen minutes, remembered she had no way of keeping track of time while there, and wisely thought it best not to venture back in until she'd gotten herself a watch or something. Instead, she opted to break in the new pool room, having recently learned how to manipulate her dressers, she was able to procure herself a bathing suit without Jareth's help -something she was sincerely grateful for. She'd spent a great deal of her evening there, wading and watching as the sun slowly set; but after the first hour or two, swimming alone got pretty boring. She didn't really know what else to do in the castle. Jareth had given her a tour, but she couldn't really decide on anything of interest. She'd thought about going outside again, but -after her little tumble, security measures were upped immensely- and so she needed to inform Jareth before hand, and since he was no where to be found... In the end, she spent most of her free time in the library, wondering if Liana might per chance to stop by.

While she should have found all this personal time liberating, truth be told, she found it rather aggravating. She was alone and antsy. She'd made a couple of friends of the staff, but hanging out with them proved to be no more than a distraction. Everything had been a distraction lately. She felt clingy and dependent and it annoyed the shit out of her. Jareth wasn't even there and he was still bugging her. Throughout her hours she kept telling herself to ask him where the hell he'd been all day, but by the time he'd finally show up; after the hours counted down to minutes and then mere seconds, after all the anxiety she'd built up waiting for his smug ass, questions about his day were the last thing on her mind.

While he acted otherwise, Sarah could tell he'd come to her with a mission on his mind. He'd always start off friendly enough, calm, cool and collected; but it wasn't long before she would find herself in one compromising situation or another. He never warned her when they would start playing, only mock her by saying she should stay on guard twenty-four-seven. And while she always tried her best, he always managed to weasel something out of her. At first, she didn't understand his tactics, or his reasoning, and often accused him of cheating. She'd been getting pretty good at controlling herself against his sexual advances, but there were other, more misleading things that tripped her up. It wouldn't just be something he said, but the way he said it, the way he looked at her while he said it. It would be the one time she actually let herself laugh at one of his jokes, or the feeling of genuine safety and comfort she let herself fall into when they silently ate their dinner or when he helped inform her on something regarding her lessons. She didn't understand this. There was no way she was getting turned on by things like that. That was when he had explained to her that pheromonal output wasn't just a mating call, it was communication in its entirety, and while she may be able to keep the turned-on button turned off, she was still saying other things in its place. She scowled when he said this, and bade him to explain.

Apparently, Sarah could wear something other than a big Fuck Me sign plastered on her forehead. While sexual desire was a big part of it, letting loose some of the lesser emotions could in fact be more consequential. He explained this by using the example of him giving her the crystal. She had experienced a sense of gratitude and fondness that distracted her, and it was that chemical scent that she failed to shield from him. He went on to explain that in Court, a signal of fondness was only to be exuded upon children or other loved one, and in cases of the male, solely to their wife and/or child. To show this feeling to any other through chemical signal was frowned upon and considered lewd in a negative sense (she was surprised that there was such a thing as lewd in a negative sense in his culture). There were also pheromone signals when one felt safe and relaxed. He explained that this was only appropriate when in the home, and in a formal or public setting would be received as letting your guard down and thus leaving yourself open to exploit and weakness. She said she didn't understand, and his answer was that, "Although they may be our allies and friends, this is court, and court is ruled first and foremost by the game of politics, and as I've said before, the way you are perceived by not just your enemies, but more importantly your allies, is crucial to your survival. And while treaties and political backstabbing is important, the foundation that all of this builds off of will be your ability to speak _without_ words. As you are a human, with no rank, as well as a foreigner not just to the land but the world, this becomes doubly important to both of our preservations". He then brought up the issue of her physical exertion, saying that such a rouse brought about an unstable mix of endorphins that could be interpreted in a multitude of ways, none of which she needed to be explained. He also added on that a rise in her temper would also cause a flux in her output, and could, for obvious reasons, be used against her. He tried to make it all simple for her by aligning it with cards, where it wasn't always your hand that was important but how well you held a poker face. All in all, Sarah concluded that while engaging with others, she needed to remain a cold-hearted, yet friendly, brainless, yet witty, subservient, yet self-empowered woman who was perceived to be loyal and loving towards her husband, and compassionate, yet distant to everyone else. HAH!

With all that that said, none of this newfound knowledge did anything to aid her in her efforts to remain a cold-hearted, yet friendly, brainless, yet witty, subservient, yet self-empowered woman who was perceived to be loyal and loving towards her husband, who was compassionate, yet distant towards everyone else. It had only been three nights, and it was too early to tell, but it seemed to her that it was getting harder for her to hold the door closed. A part of her thought it was perhaps because Jareth was no longer going easy on her, but another, dirtier part of her mind said it was because she liked what happened once she gave in, and therefore was starting to lose on purpose...Yes, a bad influence indeed...She wondered if Jareth had caught on to this as well, because if he did, he didn't make any mention of it -thus far. But then again, she'd been relatively compliant these past few days. And aside from her irritation with being ignored by him most of the time, she'd been having rather placid relations with him.

After she inevitably lost, he would stick around for a little bit. To her, it seemed like he was watching out for her, waiting to see if she would break down. Or maybe it was she herself that was feeling awkward. While she had found a crack in his armor that first night, she hadn't quite figured out how to utilize it. And this only made her more vulnerable, whether Jareth realized it or not.

They hadn't been intimate, yet night after night they'd been engaging in what she thought to be extremely intimate activities. She was counting down the days to their dreaded wedding, wondering with every free moment what would happen, wondered when and how she would inevitably have to get under him. She'd accepted this early on, though she'd thought he would simply take her against her will. But he was still holding strong to the idea that she would give in to him, and while she was still holding strong that he could shove it up his own ass, there was a haunting predilection that this _would_ be happening in the near future, one way or another. While she could try to put it off as long as she could, she needed to start figuring out how she was going to deal with that. And it didn't help her struggle much that between all his arrogance and forceful hand, he was actually being very nice to her, that between all his threats and his endless taunting, he was actually kind of funny, and that between all the highhandedness and the way he made her want to rip her hair out, he was actually very charming. And she was supposed to be hating him.

  



	42. The Right Words, part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While unbeknown to her, Sarah has succeeded in obtaining the one thing the Goblin King has desired for hundreds of years -power over the Labyrinth. After being hidden for years from his diabolical wrath, Sarah finds herself alone and vulnerable as Jareth's dark desires are finally aloud to rear their ugly heads. As always, the only question is, are things really as they seem?

She stabbed her fork into a hunk of meat and looked up to Roldan.

"So...Roldan-" she started, pausing a beat for him to look up to her. "The other day -when I ran into you in the hall...I haven't brought it up since...but I can't keep quiet about it anymore." She scowled down at the table as she talked, earning her more of his attention. She needed a distraction from her distraction's distraction, and this seemed a good enough topic. He rose his brow a little as he watched her. "Something happened. You were afraid, either for or of Jareth, I don't know. But when he came to me his clothes were covered in blood. I have no idea what happened, but I do know that he was off doing something horrible to someone and I want to know what and why." The stern resolve in her stare hit its mark when she looked back to him. She kept her brow tense and her eyes hard, but was secretly pleased that his returning stare was one that said he'd given her his full attention. He was taking her seriously. Good.

"Why don't you just ask him," he replied. Sarah sighed through her nose.

"Because I already did," she said, evading his dodge and masking her true answer as being too afraid to pursue the matter with Jareth directly.

"And?"

"And it was as ominous an answer as every other time I ask him a serious question," she snapped, eyeing him as he sat just a little more rigid in his seat. She didn't give him time to rebut. "Something made you worried. Tell me. What was Jareth doing, why was he doing it, and to whom was he doing it too."

Roldan looked uncomfortable for all of two seconds.

"_Hmph_. You should be grateful-" he started, his tone surprisingly dark. It was enough to snuff out some of her own resolve. She sat back in her seat a little and narrowed her eyes, gearing up for a scuffle -a common occurrence between the two. "-that His Majesty chooses to seek an outlet for his anger on something that _is not_ you."

And with that Sarah found it was now Roldan's gaze that was hard and serious, and she the one giving him her full attention. She was getting a seriously dangerous vibe from him, telling her to leave the subject be, but there was no way she was backing down from yet another ominous answer like that.

"What made him angry enough to hurt someone? And who was it? Did he kill them? How is that legal? The King just can't go around murdering subjects because he's throwing a tantrum." She began to scold him, glaring out over the dining table.

"The King will do as he pleases. I will repeat myself in that you should show gratitude that your King shows you such mercy."

"Mercy? Are you serious? If him giving me mercy means hurting an innocent then I'll take the damn punishment!" She'd thrown her hands up in the air at this point, completely exasperated with all this medieval ideology bullshit. All she ever heard from Roldan was how improper she was, how lenient Jareth was, how she should be grateful that he let her get away with such obscenity. After a week of lecture after lecture, it didn't take much to set her off on the subject. -It also probably didn't help that she had started her period two days ago. If Roldan thought she was quick tempered then, he really didn't want to get it in with her today.

* * *

That was another thing that had been weighing on Sarah's mind. She knew she would be due soon, and wasn't really sure what to do when that happened. She was thankful that her magic bathroom kept her well supplied, but honestly that was one of her least concerns. She was worried the day it started, and wondered how it would affect her and Jareth's lesson plan. It didn't. And that was something Sarah found genuinely appalling. While true, she had been blessed with having relatively light and short periods, that did nothing to help fight off the skeev she felt when Jareth said he couldn't have cared less either way.

She tried not to think about it. She really, really tried. It was hard in the beginning. She nearly begged him to lay off for a few days, but he couldn't seem to grasp why she found it so gross. Of course, she should have seen this coming -Jareth, an alien being who got his kicks out of smelling and tasting her bodily fluids- was just peachy keen about her blood as well. It was revolting. It was ghastly. But that's where it stopped. After a loud skirmish on Sarah's part, Jareth inevitably won that fight -as always- and so she was forced to suck it up and deal. But after that night, heck after the first ten minutes of that night, Sarah had forgotten all about it. Jareth's hands and mouth had a way of making her forget her prude-ness -something she both appreciated and loathed thoroughly.

And that was another reason she was glad she hadn't seen much of Jareth. She knew she was testier than usual when menstruating, and had a feeling she'd be picking even more pointless fights with him if he stuck around too long. With that said, it also made her anxious and antsy and regrettably needy. She chose to take this conflict out on poor Roldan.

* * *

*** "Mercy? Are you serious? If him giving me mercy means hurting an innocent then I'll take the damn punishment!"

"That would be preferred. You might actually learn something that way," Roldan said, cryptically. His voice was quiet and reserved, a stark contrast to her own growing vehemence. Sarah tried her best to control herself.

"What is it with you people? And-wait- are you saying I did something then? I did something to make him angry?" she asked, letting her concern distract her from her anger.

"...I don't know. Though it would not surprise me," he answered. Sarah broiled in her seat, confused and frustrated with his answer. She had absolutely no idea what could have made Jareth that angry. He was perfectly fine when he left her on the track, and again perfectly fine when he came to see her once she got back. Ugh, why did he have to be so bi-polar?

"Who was it?" she demanded, and watched the tension solidify in his posture. Her tone was starting to nag him. He rose a sarcastic eyebrow at her, his features relaxing as if he were bored with the conversation.

"I don't know."

"What do you mean, you don't know?"

"I will remind the lady not to raise her voice at the dinner table."

"Screw your table manners! Answer my question! I know you know." Goading and sarcasm seemed to be a regular trait of the Fae. It was irritating enough when she had to take it from Jareth, but she had absolutely no desire to take it from Roldan -who was only too willing to give it to her in excessive amounts.

"If I were at liberty I would smack you across the mouth until your lips were as smart as your tongue."

"I order you to answer me."

There seemed to be a heavy tension in the air just then. It was very rare that Sarah actually tried to order Roldan, and very rarely did he actually listen. Usually, it was over something petty, so she didn't get too bothered by it, but he was seriously starting to piss her off now. Not only was he keeping secrets from her, but he had just blatantly threatened her as well. She hated that no one would tell her anything. Jareth wouldn't talk about Liana, Liana wouldn't talk about Liana, and Roldan wouldn't talk about Jareth. If these people expected her to not only live here but rule this stupid country, they had better start filling her in.

Roldan seemed to let out a hard breath, but otherwise remained a statue.

"On occasion, His Majesty feels the need to inspect, test and if necessary upgrade current instruments of interrogation," he said, in one angry, reluctant, defeated breath. It was more than apparent that Roldan's feelings towards being over-ranked by a bratty human were less than favorable. Sarah's eyes widened immensely.

"You mean he was torturing people?!" She spoke with such surprise, yet in the back of her mind, she already had a firm inclination that that was the case -she just didn't want to face it.

"Prisoners."

"What?"

"Prisoners, not people," he clarified. Sarah nearly stood from her seat.

"Prisoners are still people! He just up and decided to torture someone to relieve his own anger? That's pointless and cruel."

"It's pointless and cruel to submit convicted prisoners to their sentencing? It's pointless and cruel to punish traitors and murderers and thieves?"

"By torturing them?" she asked, outraged. Roldan shifted around as he too were about to stand.

"Sarah, I believe you are in need of some perspective. Where do you think you are? This is not your beloved Aboveground with their weak conviction policies and petty leniency. This is the Underground, and things are done as they always have been. Those who have earned an imprisonment in the royal prisons have knowingly forsaken any hope at redemption. They know the law of the land and if they chose to act against it, then so accept the consequences. If you are to be Queen, then your tender naive little heart better start realizing that there is more than one evil in this world and it is not your husband."

Roldan was lecturing her so hard, Sarah was about ready to kick her chair and run off to her room. The intensity of his posture alone set her down in her seat without a word. She was so angry, so sick of being lectured and scolded. Of course she knew all that. She knew Jareth had a dungeon, complete with torture chamber/s. Why didn't she think they were being used? Was she really so ignorant? Plus, what Roldan was saying made sense. She'd never thought about it, never thought that the castle prison might be more significant than any of the other prisons. Was is only for really bad criminals? And he was right that the people here knew the law, while she did not. Liana had said Jareth was a good King...that would mean he was not a tyrant, which meant he didn't persecute his subjects willy nilly. Even if the law was hard, it may be just. But she still didn't agree with torturing prisoners, and she certainly didn't agree with Jareth using them as an outlet for his own frustrations. She was gathering her thoughts for a reply, but he wasn't finished with her yet.

"If not Jareth committing the act, then it would have been one of the pushers. Are you really so self-righteous as to feel sympathy towards those who have killed your soon to be subjects without remorse? To those traitors who have and will try to deceive and bring harm to your kingdom? To those thieves who have taken and destroyed what other, pure hearted citizens have worked so hard to attain? You will really defend those who have forfeited their honor and lives to the will of their King long ago? It is by His Grace's mercy that they are allowed to breathe from one day to the next, and believe me _they_ are grateful. They beg for his atonement, and he brings them penance through chastisement. And it is an honor for them to receive it by his own hand. You speak so carelessly when you know nothing of which you speak."

Sarah waited to see if he had anything else to say, and then waited some more until a sure silence spread between them before she spoke.

"Ya know what? You're right. I don't know a damn thing about the legal system here, so If that is the law of the land, then fine. But Jareth tortured people out of his own anger, not duty. And that is simply unacceptable."

This time, it was Roldan's turn to hold a silence. Their wills seemed to be evenly matched in this, as Sarah's anger had dissipated to boil at level with Roldan's. She waited for his next move. She had purposefully conceded him and countered with, what she thought to be, a totally legitimate point -which was more than he could have expected from her. She was slowly learning the art of verbal confrontation, and that it was a clever game of giving and taking. She tried not to look too satisfied when his expression gradually shifted towards something bitter.

"Well then...until you find a way to restructure our entire justice system, we'll simply have to do our best to keep his temper from reaching such a climax again," he muttered with an edge that had Sarah wondering if she'd just gained a brownie point towards respect or more animosity.

Sarah glared at him a little longer, then went back to her food when she realized neither had anything more to say. It seemed they'd drawn a stalemate with this one. She understood Roldan's perspective, and she understood that while it wasn't right, it wasn't wrong either. She knew the Underground was a tougher place than where she was from, but she also knew that there were a lot of places in the Aboveground that were a heck of a lot tougher than where she was from too. He was right, her outburst was one of naivety. She had to have her head in the clouds if she honestly thought she stood any chance in this argument. She should have seen that from the very beginning, starting with the fact that she was too afraid of the topic to argue about it with Jareth outright, she had to do so through Roldan. She wasn't sure of the way she would look at Jareth the next time she saw him, but if she had to guess, it wouldn't be any different.

She pushed the food around her plate with a forlorn look on her face.

  



	43. The Right Words, part 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While unbeknown to her, Sarah has succeeded in obtaining the one thing the Goblin King has desired for hundreds of years -power over the Labyrinth. After being hidden for years from his diabolical wrath, Sarah finds herself alone and vulnerable as Jareth's dark desires are finally aloud to rear their ugly heads. As always, the only question is, are things really as they seem?

"So...I guess now would be a good time to ask when we're going to start covering Goblin Kingdom law," she said, haphazardly trying to smooth over the tension. Maybe if they both realized they were at an impasse, they could both just move on from it.

"I have that scheduled for late next week. We should be well through general knowledge of Orpian history by then, and we can start focusing more on your position and prepare you for your wedding celebration."

She hadn't looked up when he answered, but appreciated the casualness of his tone.

"Oh yay, I forgot all about that. That's in what? Two weeks is it?" she asked, full of false enthusiasm.

"There about. I take it you're finished?" he asked. She looked up to see him eyeing her half-eaten meal as she pushed it from one side of the plate to the other.

"I guess," she said, and pushed it away from her for a Goblin to come take away. She watched as Roldan stood from the table.

"I don't think I need to remind you that sulking with your elbows on the table is not proper etiquette," he said, walking away from her. Sarah crinkled her nose at the back of his head. He walked over towards a desk and chose a couple of books to come back with. Sarah slouched a little further. "We've already discussed Yore, Erastor, and Ironmey. I'd like you to read up on Jeju for tonight, and by monday we should be through the histories of the eight kingdoms," he said, and dropped the stack in front of her. Sarah sat up from her elbows.

"Seriously? I can't have even one day of the weekend off?" She was being sarcastic, but that didn't stop Roldan from looking down his nose at her.

"Because reading from a book every night is such back breaking work, right?"

"Ya know, I appreciate your sarcasm much less than I do Jareth's," she said, taking his signal to stand from her seat. At least he was polite enough to push it back in for her.

"That can only be a good thing," he replied, and placed a hand at the back of her shoulder to steer her towards the center of the room. Apparently, it was time for dance class. She didn't need his command to know to take her place, raising her hand in front of his yet making sure not to touch it. A quiet tune started to play, one of about five different ones that usually played during the Introduction. He gave her an eye to make sure she was ready. She tried not to pout.

They moved at a pleasantly brisk pace around the room. She'd gotten the hang of these dances rather quickly, as this was probably the only thing Roldan ever complimented her on. She let the music and the sway of their movements whisk away the remainder of her frustrations. Perhaps one good thing about being extra testy on her period was that, on the flip side, it didn't take much to settle her out again.

"So...where has Jareth been the past few days?" she asked, rather awkwardly at that. Roldan didn't seem to care.

"I am his advisor, not his keeper. He is not obligated to report his whereabouts to me." He kept his gaze away from her, as was part of the dance, but she had a feeling he wasn't exactly too opposed to not looking at her either. She had a feeling Roldan was grumpy by nature, but wondered if there was a deeper reason for the distaste he seemed to hold specially for her. It couldn't just be her manners.

"I just figured you would know...if he's been busy or something..." She didn't see, but he shot her a look out of the corner of his eye, sensing her trepidation. He wanted to laugh at her.

"He is a King. King's are busy. Why? Do you think it is something other than work that's keeping him away?" he asked, half-teasingly. Sarah tightened her brow.

"Who says he's being kept away?" she countered.

"Oh, not I, My Lady, not I." He picked up the pace then, but she kept up. "But if you're missing him, I believe he's hold up in the throne room, entertaining the Erastoran ambassador on a trade order," he tacked on, just to see what her reaction would be.

It wasn't Roldan's place to say, but he'd seen a definite change in the girl over the short time he'd known her. She was still as feisty as ever, but she was starting to get smart about it. She was picking her battles, most of the time, and had learned the benefits of acting kindly. Her enthusiasm for Queenship had increased as well, though whether or not he found that a good thing was debatable. And although he gave her grief over it, she was actually picking up and retaining more information faster than he would have ever expected her too. ...He also noticed a change in her reactions to Jareth. The past few days, she'd gotten antsy right around lunch, and seemed to always have an eye over her shoulder for the rest of the day. If he didn't know any better, for all her nastiness and grumbling on the matter, he would say she missed him. And he didn't find anything wrong with that. A wife should miss her husband. The sooner the girl got over being kidnapped the better life would be. She would stop causing so many headaches and Jareth would finally be able to focus on his work. He'd reported to Jareth numerous times over the past few days, and during none did Jareth even mention anything remotely relating to Sarah. He found this odd, but good. Not being hung up on that mortal could only be positive, especially with all the work that had been piling up since the spring fire and now Sulu. A part of him wished for further inquiry, but it was not his place to intrude too far into the relationship between the King and his Queen.

"If you ask nicely, I may let you out early to go see him," he said, almost cheekily. Sarah highly doubted he could do full cheeky. She darted her eyes away and nearly tripped.

"No. I assure you, _that_ will not be necessary," she said, pointedly. Roldan shrugged and gave himself a smile, though he made no attempt to keep it from her. She scowled up at him, not caring that she was supposed to be looking away from him. His indifference annoyed her. After a moment she glared away again. But it wasn't until the dance ended that she spoke up again. "So...what's the deal with you two anyway?" she asked, taking advantage of the short lapse between songs. Roldan rose a brow at her.

"Excuse me?" he countered, not faltering from assuming the next position. He help up his hand, as Sarah rose her own to place against it. She was still glaring, and held on to it as they locked eyes.

"You and Jareth are the only humanoids in the castle. What's your guy's deal?" She heard the music start and knew enough to anticipate his first step as he pushed her backwards. The Barrage was probably the most hectic of the four dances and definitely required the most concentration. It was always just she and Roldan dancing, she worried how she would fair when surrounded by dozens of other people that actually knew what they were doing.

Her eyes were kept focused on his, and it seemed as if he were sorting through various ways to respond.

"My _deal_, is that I am Hand to His Majesty," he said. Sarah narrowed her eyes. He was being evasive on purpose.

"Ok, why you? How did you come to work for him? How long have you two been together?" she asked, question after question. Roldan wondered how she hadn't tripped yet. It took him a moment to respond.

"...My mother was a servant of the late Queen, Aleigha."

"Aleigha? She was Jareth's mother?"

"Yes."

"And your mother was a servant?" she repeated, as if not understanding. Roldan looked...uncomfortable.

"Yes. His Majesty was very young when I was born. At the Queen's behest, when I was old enough, I was given to serve as His Majesty's squire," he said, and for some reason that greatly surprised her. Roldan was so regal and poised, she figured he was from some well-to-do family and had simply taken a job working as Jareth's secretary. That's when she realized that Roldan wasn't just a secretary, he was a servant -a slave. She wasn't sure what to think of that. Instead, she tried to ignore the perturbed feeling starting to gnaw at her.

"And Jareth promoted you to Hand?" she asked. Roldan nodded.

"What happened to Jareth's parents?" she asked further. She saw something about Roldan's features harden.

"They have both moved on," he said, in such a cryptic and ominous way that Sarah asked no further questions on the matter. She decided to ask something related instead.

"Has the castle always been this empty?" Roldan cracked a smirk at her.

"So inquisitive today. Yes, mostly, that I can remember. Even under Thealon, the castle was devoid of Fae inhabitants, aside from the few servants Aleigha kept with her, as well as a few tutors and physicians. But the castle does have many visitors. Ambassadors and merchants are in and out frequently. And of course His Majesty does host a handful of seasonal gatherings each year. As I said, I believe Jareth is handling negotiations with the Erastoran Ambassador as we speak."

Sarah looked up to him with pursed lips as he spoke. This was all very interesting to her. Apparently, hermitage ran in the family. Was there a reason why? It all seemed strange -too strange. For some one as self-absorbed and full of grandiose as Jareth, she'd have thought he wanted to be surrounded by peers. Was he really that content with Goblins? And what of his father? This castle was just too big to be left so empty.

"Do you know why?" she asked. He rose a brow at her.

"Why he is entertaining the Erastorn Ambassador? I believe it's something about our iron mines-"

"No, I mean why the castle is so empty?" His brow rose up as if in surprise.

"I've never had reason to ask, and neither is it my place to."

"What happened to the servants? The tutors and physicians?"

"After His Majesty, Master Davion and I reached maturity, and the Late King and Queen moved on, there was no longer any need for them."

"Hmm..." she hummed, looking down briefly as she thought. Roldan smirked -for the second time today.

"For being so talkative, you're doing very well," he said, and of course it had to be then that Sarah looked up and tripped over her own two feet.

She was distracted again, distracted with the fact that Roldan had just given her a compliment. She wasn't thinking when she looked up, and stepped back when she meant to sidestep, her body's autocorrect forcing her to cross her ankles as she moved and send her falling backwards.

She gasped, her free hand swinging out for balance. She was waiting for the hard crack of her tailbone hitting the floor, but was stunned further when Roldan's hand, the one pressed against hers, laced with her fingers and jerked her upright.

It was such a sudden, reflexive movement, that Sarah tripped again, this time falling into him. She rolled one of her ankles, and wobbled like that as she fell into his chest. His free hand caught her under the arm and held her there before she could plummet. They'd both stopped, though the music continued to play. Sarah's breath huffed and puffed with surprise, and she slowly straightened herself up, brushing fly away hair behind her ear and trying not to gawk like a bumbling idiot as she removed her smooshed and flushed face from his chest.

Roldan took half a step back, giving her space as he helped her find her balance. Her ankles were still weak, so she had to use her free hand to push off of him.

As soon as Sarah's mouth opened to gasp, Roldan's attention went on high alert. It was a brief spark of reaction, instinctive, but it left him with a heightened sense of observation. Sarah was to be Queen, and his job was to protect her, and while this hardly qualified as a compromising situation, his eyes were still scanning her up and down for injury, knowing that Jareth would have his hyde if something happened to her. He kept a hand a her side to made sure she was steady. He didn't know why, but he wasn't quite ready when she looked up.

She looked up at him and smiled. It was an awkward, goofy smile and her cheeks had turned an involuntary pink. She reached up and pushed the hair from her face, and that was when he realized he was still gripping her entwined fingers with a force that was much more than necessary. He let go of her hand and flickered his eyes away from her. There...there was something in that smile. He remembered it.

By the time Sarah finally stood and backed away, it seemed her split second tumble had taken hours. She rose a hand to scratch the back of her head, feeling awkward with the way Roldan was staring at her.

"Sorry about that. Guess you jinxed me," she said, and gave a forced fading laugh, rolling her eyes away from him. He was just staring. She didn't see, but he blinked just then, and it was like his daze never happened.

"Are you alright?" he asked. Sarah looked down to her ankle and turned her foot from side to side.

"I think I rolled me ankle, but it's fine. Should we just start over again? Or pick up where we left off?" she asked. Roldan's eyes darted down and he scowled. She wondered what he was thinking about.

"You seem to have the beginning figured out...we can pick up just before your tumble," he said, both wordlessly resuming their positions, though now, for some reason, his hand seemed tentative against hers.

"Sorry I fell all over you..."she said, smiling up at him. "And thanks for catching me."

"...It is my obligation to keep you from harm."

"Yea, yea, yours and everyone else's," she mumbled, tired of hearing that line and having it not count for shit. She wondered what Jareth would do if she were hurt by someone other than him.

* * *

Jareth sat in his throne, the false smile slowly fading from his face. He'd been consulting with the Erastorans for a while now and had just had the pleasure of biding them fair-well. He waited until their escorts led them from the room before relaxing back in his seat. The Goblins, which knew to behave when there was important company, were just starting to romp around again, their crackling laughter slowly growing in resonance. He tilted his head back against the rim of the throne and began to tap his fingers against its arms.

He'd been so bored all afternoon, and anxious for the moment when they finally left. He hated drawing up contracts like this, it was such dull work. Usually, he would leave this sort of thing to Roldan, but he knew half of Roldan's day was now being focused on Sarah, and thought he'd be nice by getting it out of the way. But now that they were gone, Jareth found himself alone and fidgety. He didn't have another appointment until that evening...He was about to drop in and see how Sarah was fairing, entertaining the possibility of stealing her away a little early, when a Goblin came scurrying up to him.

"Uhh, Sire?" it said. Jareth sighed, feeling his wonderful plans about to be crushed in their tracks, and slowly looked down.

"What." The hardness in his voice had the Goblin fidgeting more than usual. This caught Jareth's attention. It seemed whatever news this creature bore may be something worrisome.

"You have another visitor," it said. Jareth sat up a little.

"What? Who is it and why were they not announced?" he asked.

"It is a woman, she says she is a messenger, from your brother." The creature recoiled when Jareth sat up, his hands like claws gripping the arms of his chair. He groaned low in the back of his throat and scowled. _Damn Davion, what in the Underground do you want now... _He brooded there for a moment and then shot the Goblin an eye.

"Well? Send her in," he ordered, his voice loud and irritated. Of course, his God forsaken brother would be the one to keep him away from Sarah. He wondered what in the world he could want, and why he had to send a woman to do it. Once again, a letter would have sufficed...

As he sat there, sinking lower and lower into his chair, Jareth realized it had been five days since his brother's visit. Five whole days. As he thought about this, he realized that he should have been expecting something like this to happen far sooner. Not only was Davion sure to cause mischief regarding Sarah in general, but he knew of her true purpose. While he didn't think his brother would try to usurp him, he knew better than to leave his guard down. What ever Davion wanted, whoever this mystery woman was, it was part of something bigger. He sighed again. He'd been having such a pleasant and simple past few days. He should have known it wouldn't last. He didn't bother looking up when the guard led in his visitor.

He heard her footsteps as she moved to stand before him in the center of the throne room, and only looked up when it fell silent. He didn't say a word, his expression speaking for him. He'd been leaning, holding his jaw in his hand. As his eyes searched her, two fingers moved to cover his lips, and his brow rose exponentially, though his eyes remained relaxed and closed-off.

Well, she _was_ a woman all right, and nothing less than he could have expected from Davion. She was tall and willowy. She wore a heavy cloak and gown suited for the north, but her long slender neck and arms gave tell as to the probable rest of her figure. Her skin was a rich olive tone, and her hair was long and straight and of the darkest chocolate. She had a long, pleasing face, with wide rounded eyes the same color as her hair. He felt the corners of his mouth start to twitch with a smirk as he regarded her. Of course, she was exceedingly attractive. She was also well poised and regal in every sense; the only thing that gave away her exotic nature were the rich black markings making creeping swirls about her face. His eyes landed on one in particular and trailed it as it moved and swirled down her neck to disappear under her bust line. His view of her widened to take in her posture -she stood tall, and looked him straight in the eye. The sight of her eyes on his annoyed him, but he hid it. He inhaled deeply through his nose and laughed as he sat up, closing his eyes as if exasperated. Meanwhile, the woman remained silent.

"Really? You're the one that Davion sent?" he asked, totally exasperated and way beyond amused. _This woman? of all the harems crooning up in that fortified igloo and he sends this woman in particular? _This was too much. He wanted to simply get up and walk away. He could only imagine the purpose for her presence.

The woman gave him no real reaction, simply bending at the knees in a slight curtsy.

"Yes, Your Majesty," she said, her expression unfazed by his amusement. Jareth ran his hands down his face before lazily making it to his feet and stepping down the few stairs to join her in the pit.

"And tell me, what would your name be?" he asked, tilting his head as he paced around her. The woman followed his gaze.

"My name is Mariella, Your Grace. I am a consort of Lord Davion." Jareth nodded to himself, tapping an index finger against his lips as he examined her. She smelled of the sea.

"Of course you are. And why then has my darling brother sent you to me?" he asked, stopping to stand before her. Mariella held his gaze and nonchalantly unsnapped the top button of her cloak. Jareth rose an eyebrow, but it wasn't an act of enticement.

"Pardon me, but he has not," she said. Jareth's grin curled, growing more and more aggravated at the confidence with which she held his gaze.

"Really? Explain."

"He has not sent me to you, Your Grace. He has sent me to the Lady Sarah."

Jareth's smirk thinned into something of distaste, and she noticed as he seemed to become more serious all of the sudden. His eyes became sharper on hers as if in warning. His stare was an intimidating one. Such a dramatic shift was worrying.

"Why have you been sent here?" he asked. Mariella didn't seem to notice his darkening mood.

"I was sent by Lord Davion to serve both you and thy lady. I am to be Your Majesties' wedding present."

"Really? And what am I to do with a Masochist?" he asked, with a new rigidness in his tone.

"I am to serve as hand maiden to the Lady Sarah," she said, though she didn't understand why that seemed to displease him further. Jareth took a step back, as if to head back to his throne. He stood more rigid and his expression was a hardened reflection of his aura. She watched this growing change with intrigue. She'd heard much about the radical nature of the Goblin King, but she'd never before witnessed it.

"Well you have my condolences for the trip, but there is no use for you here," he said, and turned his back on her, about to retake his seat on the throne. She called out to him before he could get there.

"Your bride is a human of the Aboveground, no?" she asked. Jareth paused, and turned back.

"Yes, she is."

"I am told she is new to our world. Lord Davion has instructed me to help habituate her into our culture and her new role," she said. Her words succeeded in capturing his attention. He turned further, glaring at her from over his shoulder.

"Really? What makes Davion think I need his help?" he asked. Mariella's eyes seemed to widen, but otherwise remained as composed as ever.

"I wouldn't know. I am merely doing as I was told," she said. He took a step back down the stairs to stand before her, his eyes full of suspicion.

"Why you?" He purposefully held her gaze as he spoke, testing her. She wasn't sure what he was trying to do, but she held his gaze right back. Jareth's expression twitched -she failed.

"I have served Lord Davion for many years. His selection must mean that he feels I am well capable of fulfilling the role," she said. He took a step towards her. "I was glad to be chosen," she added on.

"Really? And why is that?"

"I have never met a human born of the Above. I look forward to the opportunity to interact and confer with her, as well as serve His Majesty. I am honored that Lord Davion has chosen me, and I will act to fulfill my duty to Your Majesty's satisfaction." Jareth was silent, regarding her shrewdly for a moment or two. He narrowed his eyes on her as he weighed the pros and cons of having one of Davion's whores lurking about his castle.

"Your enthusiasm is duly noted. But like I said, there is no use for you. Sarah does not require any maidens. I suggest you return to your master," he said. She'd moved closer to him as he spoke, impervious to his glare staring daggers in the small space between them.

Something seemed to shift then. He watched as Mariella's eyes, seemingly ignorant to his growing agitation, slowly flickered down, and her mouth open ever-so-slightly, her tongue running along the backs of her teeth. He caught the sent of something vibrating in the air, and a grave darkness quickly fell over him.

"I was sent to serve Your Majesties. If the Lady has no use for me, perhaps there are ways in which I may better serve you," she said, and rose a hand to place lightly against his chest. He rose a brow when her eyes came back to his. "I have also been told of certain...inconveniences. I am here to help relieve any...frustrations, His Majesty may have. I am _willingly_ at your disposal." Her fingers had started to curl against his chest and her eyes grew more and more predatory, emphasizing her intent. The air was so thick with her pheromones Jareth was about ready to gag.

Jareth looked down to her hand placed against his chest and slowly rose one of his to capture it. He pulled it away and held it as he rose the other to grasp her jaw. The woman's eyes began to light up with anticipation, before feeling the crippling pain of Jareth's hands as he tightened his grip under her jaw and crushed her hand in his. She opened her mouth and whimpered in surprise, and tried to stumble back, but he held her firmly in place.

The anticipation in Mariella's eyes quickly turned to panic. Jareth's thumb and index finger were each hooked under the corners of her jaw, squeezing and pushing up so she had to stand on her toes, the pressure on her windpipe making her have to gasp for breath. The hand holding hers constricted so tightly she could hear things cracking as they moved. She didn't understand. This is what Davion had told her to do. Why was he so angry? Had she done something wrong? Her flighty eyes found Jareth's once more, and were just now able to discern the anger in them. He leaned further into her.

"Has your time with Davion really given you the gall to disgrace me in such a way, you pathetic wretch?" he asked, his voice a visceral hiss. Mariella continued to whimper.

"You're Majesty, I -I don't understand," she said, but Jareth only squeezed tighter.

"You come here, claiming to serve my wife, and yet you disrespect both her and I with such crude behavior. I am disgusted by the display. This is the manner in which you conduct yourself and you expect me let you anywhere near my wife?"

If this girl hadn't belonged to his brother, Jareth would have had no problem crushing her jaw into a million little pieces. He was already irritated that Davion would even try something so adolescent, but this level of behavior -from a servant at that- he had zero tolerance for. If circumstances were different, this situation may have ended far differently, but as it was, he had claimed Sarah, and so she had taken him, and he deserved to be treated as such.

"Your Majesty- I- Please forgive me, but I don't understand my foul. I thought-"

"You were sent here to serve _my bride_, and yet you have the audacity to steal my gaze, you have the hauteur to place your hands on me without permission, and you have ostentation to dare solicit me sexually without requesting it of her first?"

"I- I didn't- you aren't married yet-"

"You think that makes any difference? Sarah is my Queen and I her King. I am taken. You are in my hall and you will show me the respect I deserve if you wish to carry on living. Understand?" His grip on her was so tight tears were beading at the corners of her eyes. She had no idea what had set him off. Davion hadn't warned her of this. She could barely breathe with his hand under her jaw.

"I-Y-Yes- Your Grace-"

"Then lower your eyes!" There was such anger in his voice, its vibration boomed and rumbled, knocking the ignorant Goblins into a dead silence. Dozens of eyes turned, knowing what usually followed such acrimony. Mariella's gaze fell as low as it could go, and she breathed quickly through her nose. Jareth leaned in and ran his nose along the side of her face, taking in her unfamiliar scent. It did nothing for him. "I should send my brother back your head in a box for such disgrace," he mumbled.

"Please, forgive me. It was not my intention to dishonor you. I did not know you felt so strongly. Please, do with me what you will."

"Oh, I will. Your actions have me wondering what exactly my brother is doing up on that mountain. I can only imagine the disarray when whores act in equity with royalty."

"Your Grace, the fault is solely with me. I beg forgiveness for my brashness. Lord Davion has given you my life, and it it yours to deal with as you see fit. but before you do, My Lord Davion has requested I give you a letter," she said, pleading for breath. Jareth paused, and in one swift motion pushed her away from him. His eyes were cold and as hard as ever. Mariella stumbled back, gasping for breath, and tried to quell the tremble in her shoulders as quickly as possible. She kept her head cast down, and with a shaky hand reached for an envelope in the pocket of her gown. He snatched it from her with a downward eye, and angled his body away from her as he opened it -her panting was starting to annoy him. He snarled at the opening line.

  



	44. The Right Words, part 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While unbeknown to her, Sarah has succeeded in obtaining the one thing the Goblin King has desired for hundreds of years -power over the Labyrinth. After being hidden for years from his diabolical wrath, Sarah finds herself alone and vulnerable as Jareth's dark desires are finally aloud to rear their ugly heads. As always, the only question is, are things really as they seem?

_Dearest Brother,_

_Please forgive the surprise, I know how much you love them, but I have spent the passed few days pondering your situation, and I have finally decided on the proper wedding gift for the lovely Sarah. I do hope Mariella is still in one piece by the time you read this, it would be such a waste otherwise. And please forgive her for any inappropriate behavior, I have had a very bad effect on her; though I am quite sure you will have no issue setting her straight._

_As she told you, I have sent her in order to serve your blushing bride. I could not help but notice how alone you keep that poor girl, and thought it would be beneficial if she had some company, female company who can reach out to her and educate her in a way that you can not. She needs perspective, Jareth, a female perspective. But more than that, I think you know that she needs a friend. What is that saying in the Above? Kill her with kindness? Perhaps you should read that play, it may do you a world of good. Anyway, I am getting sidetracked. Now, before you cast her out, I'll have you know that Mariella is the most compliant and well respected amongst my court, she comes from a well renown, respected family and exudes all the proper traits of a woman of the Underground. It is my firm belief that she may be of some help to better integrate Sarah into all of this, and that before long she may start seeing things in a different light, and I hope that you will see it this way as well. You may not believe me, but I very sincerely want to see this one work out for you. You deserve it after last time._

_What's more, I have also been pondering your second situation, and I believe you will agree that having someone else constantly trail behind her will keep certain unwanteds at bay. I am your brother, Jareth, and I am your subject, and as such it is my obligation to support my King. Consider this my contribution to the cause. I hope that Mariella will have a positive influence on her, and will act as a repellent towards one very particular butterfly._

_It was difficult giving this one up, but she is yours now. She was one of my favorites, so please don't ruin her for me. I would like to see her stable and in one piece come my next visit._

_I hope she will serve you as well as she has served me, and that perhaps the next time I stop by, we may all have a little family reunion. Perhaps I will even take up Sarah's offer for dinner._

_Also, I know how suspicious you are, and so I will tell you now that she is carrying another letter which I have written for Sarah and that I have instructed her to keep it from you._

_With love, Davion_

Jareth scowled as he read the letter. Davion's cheekiness was irritating in person, and it was just as irritating in writing. He let out a hard exhale through his nose. He really, really didn't want to keep this woman. He had a sinking feeling that this was going to end very badly. But, Davion did have a point, having another female around might help curb Sarah in a positive way. And more importantly, Having a stranger in Sarah's company would keep Liana away. She would never risk revealing herself. And the more Liana was away, the less chance there would be of Sarah having anymore catatonic freak-outs. He turned his attentions and glared at the woman out of the corner of his eye. She was still just standing there, her head held low and her hands clasped out in front of her. He had a very strong feeling that Davion had set her up just now -he knew how Jareth would react to such a display of improper behavior. And really now, a servant girl? It was frowned upon when women of merit acted as such, so for a woman of no standing to act so towards a king? Towards Jareth especially? He groaned inwardly. Jareth may be cruel, but Davion had an even crueler sense of humor. And he said she was his favorite... He crumpled the paper in his hand and stood a little straighter.

"It has come to my attention that it should be Sarah's word on whether or not you will stay," he said, staring her down to see if she would look up. She did not.

"Of course, Your Majesty," she replied. Jareth continued to stare, knowing that she was hiding something from him. Having such knowledge only irritated him further. And the fact that Davion had told him such made him wonder why, and if there was anything else she was hiding. It was obvious that Davion wanted him to search her...

"Straighten up, and remove your clothing," he said, sternly. The woman flinched, uncertain of the direction of his actions.

"Your Majesty, I-"

"If I have to repeat myself, I can assure you of Davion's displeasure when he hears of the loss of his favorite whore. I don't care how high up your family is. You come to me as a servant and you will be treated as a servant. And I do believe I just gave you an order," he said, in that dark commanding tone of his that had everything from man to snail trembling with fear.

Mariella blinked at the floor, biting her lip nervously. She'd heard rumors of his short temper, and after only about ten minutes in his company, it seemed those rumors were true. She feared what would happen should she accidentally cross him again, and wondered in what sort of condition she would find his poor bride.

She reached for her cloak and pushed it from her shoulders. She kept her gaze on the floor, and so had no idea if he was watching her or not. Without hesitation, she unclasped the buttons lining down the front of her down, and removed each layer one at a time. When she was in nothing but her quivering dignity, she rose her arms to cover herself and stepped out of the pile of fabric. She looked up through her hair, and saw that he had turned away from her, his gaze searching through the letter once more. She was so confused.

"Search her," he commanded. She looked up fully, and as if she hadn't noticed their presence until just now, saw a group of Goblins jumping down to rummage through her things. She thought of the note for Sarah Davion had given her, and wondered if that was the thing he was searching for. She let herself gaze up at him again, wondering what Davion had written in that letter.

"Majesty! I found something!" one creature yelled, shooting its fist up in the air with an envelope in tow. It pranced over to Jareth and handed it over. She watched him anxiously, confused that he didn't seem to be remotely interested in the fact that he had a naked woman standing in the middle of his throne room.

"Is that all?" he asked, looking down at the creatures as they scurried and dug through what was once a very nice dress. Mariella tried not to show protest when the Goblins then turned and set their sights on her. She stood as motionless as possible as their tiny hands creeped and groped her for any hidden tools of mischief.

"Yupp. Can't find nothin' else," said another Goblin. Her eyes shot back to Jareth, though his expression hadn't changed. She watched as he took the letter and began to open it. She waited an awkward minute for him to read, fighting the urge to proclaim that it was not his to read in the first place. When it seemed he was done, he folded the paper and shot her an eye as he slid it back in its envelope.

"Get dressed," he said, and turned his back on her.

* * *

Sarah sat with her legs curled up in her chair beside the fire. It was now late afternoon. She and Roldan had finished up dance lessons, without any further tumbles, and she was pleased to hear that that was all he had planned for her today. She had a feeling he wanted to leave early for some reason, but didn't bother asking. Instead, she went back to her room to get a head start on her homework. He was having her read about the Plains of Jeju, though she really couldn't have cared less. To be honest, she would much rather be learning about her own damn kingdom. After their argument that morning, she felt a strong need to understand the laws and customs governing this place -so that she might try to change them later on. She wondered if she actually had the power to do that...hm, probably not. She tried to focus on the text, but found her fingers tapping restlessly against the binding. She was feeling anxious again. She cursed herself for being so needy and scolded her thoughts for the place they had run off to. Then something caught her attention.

She lowered her book and looked around the room, sensing something in the air. It may have just been her hyper active nerves, but she could have sworn she felt something. For a moment, she hoped it was Liana, she always seemed to breeze in from no where like that. But as she looked around, she saw nothing. She started to frown then and sink back into her chair, wondering where she was. She hadn't seen her in days. She hoped everything was alright. She lowered her head, about to feel sad with her loneliness, when she heard the latch of the door click open.

Sarah perched up in her hair, her body language much too attentive, and looked on with the start of a smile that she couldn't hide with the hope that it had to be none other than Jareth barging into her room. To hide her reaction, she looked down and placed her book on the table, quickly darting up to greet him, or scold him, which ever reaction came first. She'd made it about half way to the door when she saw him, and stopped dead in her tracks when she saw that he wasn't alone.

She watched as Jareth silently stalked into the room, his posture rigid and his gaze dark. She felt his aura almost immediately, and wondered what the hell was going on. It'd been a while since she'd seen him like this. And the fact that there was someone behind him put her on edge. He'd never brought another person to her room before. She wobbled back on her heel and angled herself away from him, though where she was preparing to run off to, she didn't know.

He looked up to her and burned her with the fierceness of his gaze, but she forced herself away from it, noticing the way he simply walked into the room, ignoring the woman behind him when the door started to close in her face. Wait, woman? What? Who-

Sarah's eyes narrowed as the frail figure of a women slowly sulked into the room. She was tall, nearly as tall as Jareth, and had long, dark, pin straight hair that went all the way to her hips. She had a darker complexion, and wore a thick blue gown. She tried to get a better look at her face, but couldn't see much of her, as her head was cast so low Sarah thought she was about to topple over. She stopped beside Jareth just inside the doorway. There seemed to be a heady tension strung in the air that came in with them. Sarah's eyes went from Jareth, to the woman, and back again, waiting for someone to break the ice.

"Um...hi?" she said, skeptically, her body tense and wavering. Jareth's gaze was still burning her. It was starting to creep her out.

"Sarah," he said, his voice so low and rumbling it made her even more worried. She took a precautionary step towards the couch. "How did your lessons go today?" he asked, with a false sense of cheerfulness that was as transparent as those damn crystals he liked to juggle so much. Sarah's brow started to draw.

"Uhm...swimmingly," she said, eyeing down the mystery woman like she were an elephant with seven heads. "So, uhh...what's going on, Jareth?" she asked. He flashed her a smile then, a clear sign that not only was he in a foul mood, but he was in fact royally pissed off. She knew to mind her step when he smiled like that.

"I've brought you a present."

"A present?"

"Yes. Sarah, say hello to your new hand maiden. Her name is _Mariella_." He spoke her name flippantly, trying to cover up his mysterious anger with sarcasm. It wasn't working. His head turned to the woman, that vicious smile in tow, and looked her up and down. Sarah's eyes narrowed on it, and then on the woman. Something was very off about this situation. She grew more and more wary by the second. He didn't wait for her to say anything. "Mariella, say hello to your new Queen." The woman bowed low, so low her hair touched the floor.

"Greetings, it is a pleasure and an honor to meet you, Your Grace."

Sarah scowled hard, then. It was beginning to become painfully obvious that Jareth's anger and this woman's submissive state were closely related to one another.

"Um..." was all she could muster. She looked back to Jareth, the picture of the poor woman was starting to unnerve her. "Jareth, who is this woman? I told you, I don't want any servants," she said.

"Stand up," Jareth muttered, nastily, and took a step away from Mariella and towards Sarah. Mariella stood, but kept her head low. "I told you, she is a gift. You've been left alone too often. You could use the company," he said. Sarah focused her attention on Jareth's face, using his own anger to give her some backbone.

"You don't give people as gifts, Jareth. And I'm perfectly fine with the company I have now," she said. Jareth grinned further.

"Heh, if only that were true," he started, taking a few steps towards her to close the gap. He kept his attention solely on her. It was as if the woman in the background didn't even exist. She found his behavior disturbing. "Would you feel any differently if I told you she was sent by Davion?" he asked. Sarah's brow rose slightly.

"What? Why?"

"She is your wedding present," he said, letting that last T flick off his tongue with a bite. Sarah looked over his shoulder at the woman.

"Why would Davion send me a hand maiden?"

"He thinks I'm keeping you cooped up, and that you might benefit from some company that is something other than male." He rose his brow sarcastically she spoke. Sarah continued to glare up at him.

Mariella stood with her head cast to the floor. No one was paying attention to her, so she took the opportunity to steal a glance at this mysterious mortal. Her eyes widened beneath her hair at what she saw. She wasn't sure what she was expecting when she heard the Goblin King had taken a mortal bride, but it certainly wasn't this.

She was young, very young, surprisingly young. She had dark raven hair and glowing pale skin. There was a brightness in her eyes and a rawness about her that she found alien and striking. She'd seen humans before, but she found there was something different about this one. She had an air about her, and a foreboding one at that. She smelled of strength and trouble, that much she knew for sure. But aside from that, the thing she found truly surprising, was her apparel. Firstly, she was wearing trousers. A Queen, wearing trousers. And not just any Queen, but a Queen of the Eight. Secondly, she was _not_ wearing any shoes. They were not outside and she wasn't wearing any shoes -what absurdity! And thirdly, she had on a white button down shirt that could easily be mistaken for one of her husband's. The only thing that gave away her gender was the thick leather belt that accented the curve of her waist. She looked on, observing as the girl argued with Jareth. She held her arms out crossed over her chest and pouted her lips as she glared up at him. Glared! She glared at the King! She couldn't see Jareth's face clearly, but she saw that he was smiling, and saw the way his posture shifted when he talked to her. He wasn't as rigid as he was before. She found this change intriguing. Before she could get caught gawking, she lowered her eyes and focused on what they were saying.

"Well that's all well and good, but I've told you I don't want any servants," Sarah said, standing firmly rooted in her spot, not caring for his grumpiness. Even though she was wary of his mood, she couldn't help but feel somewhat relieved that he was there at all, whether they were fighting or not. His seemed to soften a little then as he stared at her. She forced herself to glare harder.

"I have a letter for you," he said, deflecting from her statement. Sarah looked down to see him produce an envelope. She was cautious to take it. "It's from Davion, for you," he added, again with that cheery tone that had nothing to do with cheerfulness. She snatched it from his hands and walked away, turning her back on him as she opened the letter.

_My Sweet Sarah,_

_Lovely sister, I hope you are enjoying your new home and are fairing well with that overbearing brother of mine. I know how tiresome he can be. It has been less than a week and already I find myself missing you; perhaps one day soon, you will come to visit me up north. I have a feeling the coldness of the snow will accent your beauty just as much as the warmth of the sun. I am sorry for my abrupt departure; I really should have scheduled ahead of time, I was just so excited to meet you. Please, do not be cross with Jareth, though I know from experience how hard that may be._

_I have been thinking of a proper gift to bestow you as a welcoming into my family, and I hope you like what I have chosen. This woman's name is Mariella, and she is very important to me. I send her to you to serve you as need be. While I am not from the Above, I know what it feels like to be alone in a new and unfamiliar place. My only wish is that Ella will give you the same pleasant company she has given me and provide you some level of reprieve when my brother's affections become too unbearable._

_I look forward to our next meeting, and dream of that beautiful smile of yours. My brother is truly lucky, in that he is blessed to have your smile all to himself, while others, like I, can only dream. I hope he acts well enough to deserve that smile. It would be such a waste for it to simply fade away._

_Until then, with love, Davion._

Sarah lowered the letter in her hands and looked over to Mariella. She was still just standing there, staring at the floor. She felt awkward now. What was she supposed to do with a servant? She'd already talked about this... She looked back to Jareth with a shrug.

"Tell Davion thank you, but I really can't accept this. I have no need for a servant. And I'm not comfortable with the way he's gone about this. If he wanted to give me a wedding present, he could have just sent flowers or something," she said. Jareth had to mask the pleasure he found in that they were actually in agreement on something for once. He steeled his features and took a step forward.

"Sarah, it would be disrespectful to refuse his gift. He went out of his way to send her here when he did not have to," he said. While originally Jareth wanted nothing to do with the wench, he had decided Davion was right in her usefulness. And while he could have simply dumped her on Sarah, it would be better for everyone if she could be made to understand her usefulness as well. Sarah scowled.

"Well what am I supposed to do? I don't need any help. There would be nothing for her to do."

"Then she'll be here to keep you company."

Sarah scowled again and stepped away from Jareth. She walked over to the woman and frowned.

"Please stand. You don't need to look at the floor like that," she said. Slowly, uncertainly, Mariella straightened, though she kept her gaze at Sarah's nose.

Sarah's eyes widened for a split second, but she blinked it away. She wasn't ready for that. Wasn't ready to be met with the intense tribal tattoos swirling all over Mariella's face. What in the? What were those? Who was this woman? Where did she get hose markings? There was one in particular that caught her eye, it radiated like a flower from the corner of her eye. She tried not to gawk.

"Hi, my name is Sarah. I'm sorry for my rudeness, I know you've come a long way to be here. It's very nice to meet you," she said, and offered out a hand. Mariella stared on in confusion, until it became apparent she didn't know what a hand shake was. Sarah smiled and pulled her hand away.

This time, Mariella didn't have her hair to shield her gawking. Seeing her up close, seeing the way she spoke, it was surreal. She had such a strong scent, but it wasn't chemical, it was just _her_. It was strange, the humans in the Underground certainly didn't smell so strongly. She wondered if it was an Aboveground trait, and if so, she was starting to understand what all the fuss was about. She had so much spirit, and her smile was so radiant and -genuine. She couldn't fathom that this was really Jareth's bride, and that he allowed her to speak and dress the way she did. She'd watched as she spoke out against him and even turned her back on him just now. What boldness! And Jareth thought she had gall... She couldn't understand how His Majesty lost his temper so easily with her, and yet, was nothing less than amused to receive even worse treatment from a human. It was one of the strangest things she'd ever seen. But then again, she was _a human_, and a human of the Aboveground at that. Maybe this was normal.

"Your Majesty," she said, and gave Sarah a low nod. Sarah frowned again.

"Please, no titles. If you're going to stay here, I want you to call me Sarah, ok?"

Mariella's eyes darted from Sarah, to Jareth and back to Sarah repeatedly, searching for an answer. She wasn't sure what to do. It was improper for her to call the Queen by her given name, but if the Queen ordered it, then it would be dishonorable to go against it. She looked to Jareth again for a clue, but his expression was back to being stone. Mercurial indeed...


	45. The Right Words, part 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While unbeknown to her, Sarah has succeeded in obtaining the one thing the Goblin King has desired for hundreds of years -power over the Labyrinth. After being hidden for years from his diabolical wrath, Sarah finds herself alone and vulnerable as Jareth's dark desires are finally aloud to rear their ugly heads. As always, the only question is, are things really as they seem?

"-Yes, of course, if that is your wish, Queen Sarah," she said, trying to find some kind of middle ground. Sarah frowned a third time, realizing the reason she was acting so skittish was because she was probably nervous of Jareth lurking over her shoulder. She remembered acting the same way when he'd first taken her, and wondered what Jareth had already done to this woman that had intimidated her so. It didn't take much for her imagination to form several unpleasant scenarios. She felt for her, remembering her own harsh introduction to the castle. Her gaze turned empathetic, seeing another woman cowering like this. It made her want to turn around and ream Jareth's head off. -Though she thought it wise to save that for later.

"Further more, I'm not comfortable with you being _given_ to me. You're a person, you don't give people. And I will not stand for slavery. So, if you're going to stay with me, you're going to stay as a guest."

Mariella's eyes became wide then and quickly darted to Jareth. Her posture seemed to tense as well. Sarah pursed her lips. Did she say something wrong? She thought she was being very compassionate and professional here... She didn't bother looking back to Jareth. The woman kept looking to him, but he hadn't intervened yet, which meant it seemed he was going to let her handle the situation.

"Majesty, you have my gratitude, but I can not stay as your guest. I am a stranger to your home. I must earn my keep," she said, trying her best to maneuver between Jareth's stern gaze and Sarah's strange requests. It felt like she was being tested. She wondered if this Queen was actually as friendly as she was aiming to be, or if it was just an intended perception...After the impression she'd gotten of her betrothed, she wouldn't doubt this woman to be just as devious. Sarah put her hands on her hips and turned to face both she and Jareth.

"Fine, then you're an employee. If you're dead set on serving me then you'll be compensated for your time." She didn't see, but Jareth raised an eyebrow at her. Meanwhile, Mariella was busy having a panic attack. She rose her hands up in the air as if about to plead to Jareth for her life. Sarah didn't understand why she was reacting to her comments with continuing fear, and turned fully to Jareth to see what was going on.

"No, nononono. Please, that is really not necessary. I am perfectly content serving you as I am. I am honored to serve under you. Please, Your Majesty." Sarah wasn't sure who Mariella was speaking to; physically, Mariella was directing her words at Sarah, but the panic and fear with which she spoke them made it seem like they were meant for Jareth. Sarah found this interesting, but that was when she remembered something Roldan had taught her -women were only allowed to speak to men through their women. Hm, was that what Mariella was doing just now? Curious. She looked to Jareth for his verdict. He took a step towards her.

"Sarah, this woman is a servant of Davion's, as she will be a servant to you. There is no reason to pay her," he said. The calmness of his tone caught Mariella off guard, she had expected him to reprimand Sarah, cutting her down where she stood just as he had done to her in the throne room. The decisions she was making were not hers to make, not to mention the way in which she quite blatantly _ordered_ him. No one commanded a King, not even his Queen. This worried her, but Sarah didn't seem to be feeling the same kind of tension Mariella was.

"For the hundredth time, I do not want a slave! If you're going to insist on her staying here then I want you to pay her like any other contracted employee. She is a person and she has rights. She'll earn her own wage and can leave to return home at any time she chooses."

Sarah didn't know why, but in the next moment Mariella was on her knees, pleading up at the both of them. Sarah took a step back, bemused. Jareth didn't so much as flinch.

"Your Grace, you are merciful and gracious, and I am unworthy. Please, do not fight on my behalf. I am at Your Majesties' will. I need not the things you say. I beg His Majesty's forgiveness. My intentions are not towards greed. I merely wish to serve. I beg you take mercy on us both."

Sarah's brow drew on her with that, trying to move passed the confusion of being spoken through, not to. _On us both? What does she mean, on us both? _She didn't understand what she had anything to do with it, or why Mariella was pleading for both their safeties. She was trying to help this woman, though it seemed she was only fucking things up further with each word. She looked up to Jareth for clarification.

Jareth crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the back of the couch. Up until now, he'd been doing a very good job of keeping himself restrained. He knew that Sarah had no idea of the things she was saying, and knew that it was not his place to lash out at her the way he normally would. He also knew that Davion's whore understood the situation completely, and was reacting the way Sarah should be. He stood before them both, Sarah standing tall and Mariella on the floor, and was mildly conflicted. He'd told himself he needed to be strict with Sarah, so that she would learn early on. But just as she was starting to loosen up around him, so was he starting to soften up around her. He found her passion on certain matters invigorating, even when she was in the wrong -like now. It was not Sarah's place to speak out against him like this, and it certainly was not her place to command him in matters of coin. But she was wholehearted in her endeavor, her spirit was shining through, and for once she was wielding her anger in a practical sense and using words instead of tantrums to make a point. He had also been greatly enjoying the past few days with her, and knew that however he chose to handle this situation would either work to up his favor or kill it dead in its tracks. And while he did give her credit for trying, there was still the issue of upholding his image. This woman was a stranger, one sent by Davion. Alone, he took great amusement in Sarah's bullheadedness. But, around others, he was expected to act a certain way, or else rumors would start. He was still the King after all.

With all of that on his mind, he leaned up off the couch and stepped towards Sarah.

"Sarah...my sweet, ignorant Sarah. Before you choose to try my patience further, let me explain something to you. You do not have the power to do any of the things you have just proclaimed, and you should be punished for the way you have conducted yourself just now." He gave her a cheeky curl of the lips as he spoke, prodding at her agitation. She scowled and opened her mouth to speak, but Jareth beat her to it. "However, if you were to _ask_ me a little more nicely, I believe I could be _persuaded _to grant you all that you wish." He ran his eyes suggestively down her front, quirking her a challenging eyebrow when they locked back on to hers. Sarah crossed her arms over her chest again. "Let me further explain that this woman is not a slave, she is your maiden. There is a difference. And what that means, is that she will be catered to in all respects, just as she caters to you. She will be given her own room, with her own dressers filled with the finest gowns. She will be treated to the same meals as you, the same experiences as you. She will be in your constant company, and so, will be sharing in all the indulgences of a Queen. She was not bought and sold, nor forced to come here. She was chosen by Davion, and she accepted his _request_ because it is her duty. She has her freedom Sarah. What more must she be compensated for?" he asked, with a calm but serious tone, and succeeded in cracking through her tough facade. Sarah struggled to maintain her scowl. In a last ditch effort, she uncrossed her arms and jabbed a finger into his sternum.

"Oh yea? Well you can just wipe that grin off your face right now, Goblin King; because this whole 'this is the way off the world' BS isn't cutting it. Where I come from slavery and indentured servitude is illegal. And I don't care if it's not my place. Look at how frightened she is. You're really going to tell me she's happy about this?" She was gearing up for a fight, fast. It'd been a while since they'd gotten it in with each other, and her pms driven irritation had been searching for a good outlet. She was ready for him to give her that dangerous smile of his and start commanding things at her, but he did nothing of the sort. No, instead he simply started laughing. Laughing! Sarah's eyes widened with anger, but he moved to step away from her before she could combust.

"The reason she is so frightened, is because she knows that, if you were _any other _woman, I would have ripped the tongue from your mouth long ago. Continue to test me in front of a stranger, and I very well might," he said, turning back to give her a wicked grin. Against her better wishes, Sarah's anger relaxed, picking up on the hum of true warning in his voice. Normally, she would start screaming at him right about now, but she was wary that they weren't alone. She wasn't sure how he would act around her when they were in the presence of others. It had always just been the two of them. And although he had warned her repeatedly that while he tolerated her crudeness in private, it would not be tolerated in public, she hadn't really thought about testing it. But she recalled sensing how dark his aura was when he first came in and paired it with the look he was giving her now, and had a feeling this discussion wasn't over and that she was sure to find out whatever it was he was keeping locked behind that smile later that night. She suddenly understood why Mariella was in such a panic.

"Is that all you wanted then?" she asked, irritably, trying to come off as unintimidated by his threat, though the way she tightened her arms across her chest in protection did not go unnoticed . Jareth's eyes grew sharper. She just never knew when to quit.

"Yes, pardon the intrusion. I'll leave you two ladies alone to get better acquainted," he said, light-heartedly. Sarah eyed him down.

"You're just going to drop her off and leave?" she asked, suspicious that he was just going to leave her alone with some stranger. Jareth's smile curled dastardly.

"Do you want me to stay? I'm only too happy to supervise one of your play-dates."

Mariella had glanced up, trying to catch Sarah's reaction. This conversation was one of the strangest and most nerve-wracking she'd ever been a part of. Every time Sarah opened her mouth, she'd anticipated nothing less than a firm backhand. And here he was, teasing her. She tried to figure out when exactly the anger left the atmosphere. She heard amusement in Jareth's voice as he asked her his question, and sensed some kind of change coming from Sarah as well. This was certainly one of the most bizarre relationships she had ever witnessed.

"Oh, no. If you have work to do then by all means, get back to it," Sarah said, shrugging and rolling her eyes nonchalantly. It wasn't really that she wanted him to stay, as she had a feeling things might end up imploding if he did, but she hated the way he just showed up out of no where and then left just as quickly; plus, she felt a little uncomfortable being left alone with the woman still heaped on the floor. Jareth smirked at her again, keeping his laugh down to a hum.

"_Hmph_, don't worry. I've been counting," he said, and turned to exit the room. Sarah took a step forward.

"Counting?"

"Yes. I look forward to seeing you tonight. Mariella, do take care of her while I'm away," he said, and then he was gone.

* * *

Sarah stood, hands on hips as she glared at the now empty doorway. She scowled, knowing, without a single doubt, that Jareth's closing line posed one hundred percent a significant threat. She knew this, and wasn't afraid of it in the slightest. Maybe it was lingering irritation that numbed her, but as it was, Sarah was actually looking forward to it. What in the world was wrong with her?

She shook her head, and with a huff, moved to close the door. When she turned back around, Mariella was starting to stand. Sarah watched as she huddled into herself, still full of trepidation, and gave her a lopsided frown.

"Well, now that that's over..." Sarah mumbled, and walked away from the door. For the first time, Mariella met her in the eye. "I'm sorry about that. I didn't mean to upset you, I just don't agree with slavery, and...nothing against you, but this is all a bit of a surprise," she said, with a reassuring smile. Mariella tried to reciprocate.

"You have no need to apologize to me, My Lady."

"I told you, call me Sarah. I hate being called My Lady, Your Majesty, My Queen," Sarah said, and moved towards the far end of the room. "I didn't ask for the title, and in all honesty I don't want it. I already have a name, and it's worked for me pretty well so far, I see no reason to change it," she said, moving blindly towards the parlor area containing the dining table. Mariella followed.

"His Majesty would be very displeased if I were to call his Queen by her given name," she said. Sarah threw her hands up in a mad gesture.

"Well _Jareth_ can just get over it! I really couldn't give a rat's ass about what he thinks."

" *Gasp* My Lady-"

Mariella stopped dead in her tracks, bemused by Sarah's words. She couldn't believe it, couldn't get over that she was actually speaking of the King this way. It was as appalling as it was intriguing. How in the world had he not crushed that spirit of hers by now?

Sarah turned and gave her any eye.

"I think what you mean to say is, _*gasp* Sarah_," she corrected.

"I-I'm sorry, it's just...the way you speak of the King is- it's-"

"It's what? Improper? Disrespectful? Unseemly? Lewd and crude?"

Mariella's eyes just kept getting wider, while Sarah's scowl only hardened.

"I-it's-I don't- How is it you are able to act so contemptuous about him? The way he brushed off your disrespect was...absurd." The words just flew out of Mariellla's mouth against her better judgement and her eyes continued to gape when Sarah remained silent. "Is that how you always speak to him?" she asked. Sarah looked bored.

"Yeah. It's the least I could do for all the bull shit he's put me through."

Mariella gasped again.

"My lady -er, Sarah! How is it you are without reprimand? Such vulgarity! Against the King of Goblins no less! How is it you are still alive?" Sarah's bored expression perked up a little at the panic and disbelief in Mariella's voice.

"Because, for some reason, Jareth is set on marrying me, and I imagine that would require that I stay alive."

"...His Majesty must have a very strong fondness for you. That, or a very high tolerance."

"Well, for as _well restrained_ as Jareth is, I'm sure I'll be in for my just desserts when he comes back," Sarah said, without a smidgen of worry. Mariella looked...frightened.

"You await your punishment and yet you do not seek penance?" she asked, mildly horrified. Sarah folded her arms over her chest.

"Penance? You mean I should run off and apologize to him? Hah, no way in Hell," she said. Mariella was quiet a moment.

"...You, are the Goblin King's bride?" she asked, out of the blue.

"Yupp. Go on, tell me how appalling that is."

"Appalling? No...It's...just...very strange," she answered. Sarah rose her an eyebrow and huffed.

"Yes, that too," she said, and paused to let her left over irritation sizzle out with it. She stared at Mariella, standing all wide-eyed and shocked, and looked down to the floor with a defeated sigh. "Ok, let's get this all cleared up right now. I agreed to have you stay here because I didn't want Davion to think I was disrespecting him by sending you back. With that said, I meant it when I said I don't want a servant or a hand maiden or anything like that. And since apparently I don't have the authority to pay you, if it is at all possible, I would like it if we could be friends."

Mariella blinked absently for a moment, before her face began to light up immensely. Apparently, she had switched over from aghast confusion to wonder. She looked pleased and amused and honored all at once. She even smiled, and it was such a sweet, pretty site, that Sarah couldn't help but crack one herself.

"Of course, if that is truly your wish. I would like that very much, Sarah," she said. Sarah's smile curled a little more, and she turned to face her more fully.

"Seriously, that means I want none of that formality, master/servant crap, ok? Just talk to me like a regular person. I really couldn't care less about social standing. If you're going to stay here with me, I don't want you to feel compelled or awkward around me. I don't want you serving me. Apparently, you're here to keep me company, and that's all that I will ever ask of you." Mariella's smile turned to a firm grin as she nodded in understanding. Sarah almost laughed, being able to tell already that Mariella was just as much the girly girl she appeared to be. It was cute and somewhat of a relief from dealing with hardened, devious natures like Jareth's. And it reminded her of home.

"I understand, Sarah, and I am honored that you bestow me such graciousness."

At first, Mariella was worried that Sarah's friendliness towards her was just another test. But seeing her act now, she knew that wasn't the case. There was just something about her, something honest and sure-fire. She felt a fire in her heart, and it helped to make her feel a little stronger herself. She was completely abashed at the way she behaved, at the way Jareth allowed her to behave. But, this girl seemed to be strong and in one piece, which meant that, hopefully, she had her confidence cut out for her. It was just all such a shock, after seeing, and feeling, the way Jareth acted when she first arrived...she just couldn't fathom him entertaining a spirit like hers. But then again, _he_ had_chosen_ her. Maybe she was something special...Yes, Jareth was dark and intimidating, and had made his point about watching her step, but his betrothed was the exact opposite. It was so -amazing. She didn't know what to expect upon meeting her, but she was not left disappointed. She couldn't wait to find out more about both her, and her strange relationship.

  



	46. The Right Words, part 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While unbeknown to her, Sarah has succeeded in obtaining the one thing the Goblin King has desired for hundreds of years -power over the Labyrinth. After being hidden for years from his diabolical wrath, Sarah finds herself alone and vulnerable as Jareth's dark desires are finally aloud to rear their ugly heads. As always, the only question is, are things really as they seem?

"It's not graciousness, it's civility," Sarah retorted, and finally took a chair at the dining table. Mariella took the one opposite. "Ok, so you're s'posed to keep me company? Let's start with dinner. Are you hungry? You've come a long way, I'm sure you haven't eaten anything."

"Well, actually, the journey here was very quick," Mariella said. Sarah perked up a bit just as she was about to reach for the bell.

"Really?" she asked, resuming to reach for the bell. She rang it without a word and set it back down. Mariella nodded.

"Why, yes. With magic, it is most inconvenient to travel by physical means, especially in cases of emergency. His Majesty has a passage which travels directly to his castle in the north."

"Really? Huh, I didn't know that. Where is it?"

Mariella hesitated, caught a little off guard with the eagerness in Sarah's voice, as well as the fact that she was asking her questions about her own kingdom. But then she remembered that she wasn't from here...This was going to take some getting used to. A few moments later, a Goblin appeared with a drink tray as well as a platter of fruit.

"Well, I know there is a door that leads to a merchant run at Fort Fyrn. And the door on the opposite side opens to the same path, only, it's here," she explained, with a small gesture around the room. Sarah cocked her head to one side, thoroughly intrigued, her impending meal already long forgotten.

"Fort Fyrn? Is that Davion's castle?" Sarah asked. Mariella pursed her lips with a smile.

"Well, no. Actually, it is His Majesty's castle. Lord Davion merely wards over it in His Majesty's stead."

"Hm..." Sarah started, glancing down at the table cloth as she mulled over some thought. Mariella couldn't help but notice the way she kept her arms rested out in front of her on the table. "...So, you came all the way from the Northern Realm? What's it like up there?" she asked. Mairella blinked at her.

"It's...cold," she started, giving her a small laugh. "It is also one of the most beautiful places I have ever seen. It snows constantly. The trees twist like silver spider's webs high in the sky, and the sun is so pale, it is often confused for the moon," she said, trying not to let her smile stretch at the way Sarah stared on with an expression of awe; though she took this as a signal to continue. "Fort Fyrn, itself...well, it is named appropriately. It is so old that it has been nearly overtaken by ice. It is perfectly fortified, a marvel of defensive architecture."

"I see, it sounds amazing. I'm sorry you had to leave a place like that to come to a dry desert like this," Sarah said.

"Oh, Sarah, no. There is no need to apologize. I was very happy to come here." Sarah's brow drew.

"Why?" she asked, seemingly aghast.

"Well...to be honest, I was very excited to meet you," she said. Sarah sat back a bit.

"Me? Why on Earth would you be excited to meet me?" she asked. Mariella laughed at the clear bemusement in Sarah's voice.

"I have never met a human born of the Aboveground. I was very intrigued to see what you were like, to hear what your world is like. I am still very intrigued."

"You mean you've never been to the Aboveground before?" Sarah asked. Mariella shook her head.

"No, I have not. The Aboveground is a place most of us only dream about."

"What? Why? I thought the Fae could travel between worlds?"

"They can...if they are skilled enough, that is."

"So...not all Fae can go to the Aboveground?" Sarah asked, just now remembering there was food in front of her. She reached out and poured herself a drink, and snatched up a couple grapes as well. She gestured for Mariella to take some as well, but she signaled otherwise.

"No, the majority are just as rooted to our world as you were to yours."

"How come? Are some Fae not able to use magic?" Sarah asked. Mariella bobbed her head from side to side.

"...In a manner."

"Could you explain?"

"Well...a Fae's magical ability is dependent on their social rank," she said. Sarah's eyes widened.

"What?"

"There is a definite class system in the Underground. The higher born you are, the more magic you are permitted to learn. As it stands, only the aristocracy are at liberty to learn the skills required to travel between the worlds."

"Does that mean you can't do magic at all?" Sarah asked, finding all of this mightily intriguing. She'd always felt at such a disadvantage because she couldn't use magic, but now it seemed that, in fact, the majority of those in the Underground couldn't either. Which would make Jareth a rare exception...Lucky her.

"I can do some things...Though my rank does not allow me to learn much more than simple conjuring," she said.

"Hm...interesting. I didn't know only high born Fae could do magic..."

"I imagine there is still a great deal you don't know about our world." Sarah shot her an eye at that. "Lord Davion...he told me you were new to our world. He asked me to help you..._understand_...our customs, so that it would be easier for you to integrate successfully into your role as Queen," she explained. Sarah was about to purse her lips and scowl, but managed to keep it back.

"Well, that was thoughtful of him," she muttered, unable to shake the thought that this was just another attempt at trying to get her to conform. First Roldan and his lessons, and now Davion and this woman...

"Yes, it was," Mariella said, unable to detect the sarcasm in Sarah's voice.

"So...you worked for Davion, then?" Sarah asked, rhetorically.

"Yes, for many years now."

"Really? What did you do?" she asked. Mariella seemed to fidget just then, something Sarah found curious.

"I...served as one of Lord Davion's consorts," she said, bringing a swift and high rise of Sarah's brow.

"Um..." Sarah murmured, surprised that she was caught off guard by that statement. She didn't know why, but she'd never thought of Davion having relations, and she certainly never thought of him having a number of them. The thought embarrassed her for some reason, and left an uncanny feeling in her gut. She didn't like it, but what was more, she didn't like not knowing why it was there. She tried not to seem affected, and forced herself to cary on with the conversation. "You said consorts? You mean he has more than one?" she asked, although it wasn't perhaps the best question to help alleviate her unsettledness. Mariella smiled.

"Oh, of course. The Lord Davion has many harems at his disposal," she said, effectively making Sarah regret the direction she'd pointed the conversation in.

"Really? ...Um, ok then..." Her voice traveled off, being carried away with another thought. "Wait, so, how many people live in Fort Fyrn?" she asked, secretly inquiring on her earlier wondering of Jareth's reclusiveness.

"Why yes, many dozens I should say. It is quite a large castle, and requires a high number of staff to upkeep." Sarah narrowed her eyes.

"And it's staffed with Fae?" she asked.

"Yes, mostly."

"Hm...interesting," Sarah murmured, earning her more of Mariella's curiosity. "So...you were one of Davion's consorts...one of many you say...why did he chose you to send to me?" she asked, catching the faint blush that bloomed across Mariella's cheeks as she smiled down to her lap.

"Well...I don't really know. But, I would like to think it is because Lord Davion views me as something special," she said, as giddy as her manners would allow her to be. Sarah found herself starting to smirk at this. She was so bashful. It was obvious Davion was more than just a fuck buddy to her, and as she recalled Davion's line from his letter "_Her name is Mariella, and she is very important to me_" she thought that perhaps she was more than that to him as well. Hm...very interesting.

"You like him a lot, I see," Sarah said, sneakily prodding her way in. If Mariella noticed, she didn't seem to mind.

"Oh yes. I admire Lord Davion greatly. He is from a proud family, young and compassionate, smart, cunning, strong and very charming," she said, with more energy than she had exuded during the entire conversation, though she caught herself before she had the chance to ramble.

"He called you Ella in his letter," Sarah said. Mariella blushed again.

"Did he? Yes...most refer to me simply as Marie, but Lord Davion has always spoken to me by that name," she said, with a cute, naughty little smile that Sarah herself was only just starting to recognize.

"Well...in that case, I won't take that away from you two. But, would you prefer it if I called you Marie?"

"You may call me whatever you wish," Marie/Mariella said, with pursed, joking lips. Sarah responded in kind, before feeling a creeping soberness fall over her.

"I'm sorry," she said, frowning down at the table. Mariella's smile started to fade, not knowing what had upset her.

"For what?" she asked. Sarah continued to look ...put off.

"That you had to leave your home to come here," she said. Mariella lowered her head as if she understood and grinned down at her lap.

"Sarah...Fort Fyrn is not my home. And while I am saddened to be so far away from Lord Davion, I was happy to leave." She looked up to meet Sarah's eye. "He has shown me great honor by choosing me. Of all those he could have sent, I was the one he deemed suitable to send to, not just his brother, but the King of Goblins. It means I have merit in his eyes and will have a lasting mark on his memory, and...that there is a chance for something greater."

"Something greater?"

"Yes...You may think me to be a common concubine, but my position is far different from such."

"I don't understand."

"Well...while my family is not royalty, they are still of a reasonably high social standing. Women, and even men of my social status are often procured to serve as consorts to the High Kings and Queens."

"I still don't get it. Why is that different than a concubine?" Sarah asked.

"Because, unlike concubines, we are not slaves. We are asked to serve, and we have the ability to either accept or decline. The reason why we most often accept these offers, is that a _consort-ship_ is a common means of _courtship_. It is our aim that, once we prove ourselves worthy, our Lord or Majesty will choose us as their intended."

Sarah blinked, repeatedly. That line of ideology seemed...silly, nothing more than delusional. She knew from her own Aboveground history, that that kind of thinking was hopeful, but rarely worked when it came to securing a royal wedding... After all, why would a King or Queen choose to marry one of their whores when they could marry another King or Queen and still have their whores? She then rebutted her own thought, acknowledging that if that were true, then why the hell was Jareth marrying her?

"I don't...I still don't understand...is that really how it works here? People just line up to become sex slaves and hope that one day they might be chosen to be King or Queen?" she asked, confused and bemused. Mariella tilted her head, in equal confusion.

"How else is it to be done?" she countered. Sarah's eyes widened and her brow tightened.

"Um...I don't know. I just figured princes would be off marrying princesses...or...something." She didn't see, but Mariella's eyes widened exponentially.

"Oh my, Sarah, no! Why, is that how it is done in your world?" she asked, sounding so surprised that Sarah inched back in her chair a little and darted her eyes away.

"Um..that's how it used to be done...now it's just...boy meets girl kind of thing...wait, you mean princes don't marry princesses? Why?" Sarah asked, now even more confused. Mariella blinked at her like she was an idiot.

"Of course not, it is forbidden," she said. Sarah became a little more alert.

"Why is it forbidden?" she asked. Mariella leaned in a little.

"When the Treaty of Eight was instituted, it was instated that no heir to one kingdom would wed the heir to another."

"What? Why? That doesn't seem very logical," Sarah said, shaking her head from side to side with her mental malfunction. She hadn't gotten through Orpian history yet, so she had no idea of the specific clauses in the Treaty of Eight, though she remembered reading about it. But even so, she couldn't fathom any reason why it was forbidden to marry heirs...wasn't that how it was done? How treaties were made and bloodlines kept pure?

"After the end of the Dark Age, the Kings and Queens of Orpia were so disgusted with war, destruction and turmoil, that they sought a means to ensure eternal peace. The clause which forbids inter-ruler marriage was founded on the idea that if no heir could marry another, then there would be no unbalanced alliances. The power of each kingdom would remain truly independent and in check, as there would be no blood link between them. So, in order to further the monarchy, Kings and Queens were then forced to look elsewhere...it is tradition that a King or Queen wed someone outside of the Orpian monarchy...this allows persons of a lower class to form their own alliances and further their families...it also allows the prime monarchs to wed for something other than duty or material gain..." Mariella's voice had started to fade as she spoke, as if drifting off with some forlorn thought or memory. Sarah was trying to figure out what that might be, but was too overwhelmed with processing what was probably one of the most important traits of Underground culture. And she was just finding this out now? All this time she'd been so confused as to why Jareth insisted on marrying her and not some well-to-do Underground princess...well, now she knew.

"Hmm...that's...actually...that's all very rational. The whole, concubine competition thing is kind of weird but...I think I get it now," Sarah murmured, her mind still trying to wrap around all this new information. At least she had a couple new talking points for Roldan tomorrow... Mariella gave her a satisfied smile.

"Very good," she said, happy that she was already fulfilling the role Davion had set for her. Sarah continued to stare down at the table, deep in thought, but seemed to put whatever those thoughts were on hold when she looked back up to Mariella.

"You're not from around here, are you?" Sarah asked, and even to her that question seemed odd. Mariella blinked a couple of times.

"From the Goblin Kingdom? No, I am not. How could you tell?" she asked, jokingly and not the least bit offended at what Sarah was secretly inquiring towards. Sarah was almost uncomfortable, but Mariella's casualness put her at ease.

"Well...those markings for starters. Do you mind me asking?"

Mariella shook her head.

"Not at all. I am a Masochist," she said.

Sarah had reached out and was in the process of taking a sip of her drink when she suddenly spurted it all over herself. She hopped in surprise and quickly rose a hand, covering both her mouth and her faux pas. She hunched over and placed the glass back on the table as she reached for a napkin. Mariella's eyes widened with concern.

"Sarah, are you alright?" she asked. Sarah's wide, straining eyes darted to hers as she wiped the water from her mouth.

"Uhh-yea. I-uhh, I just wasn't expecting you to say that is all," she answered, her thoughts humming with the words _TMI, WAY TMI!_ She tried to compose herself by patting down the dampened table cloth. Meanwhile, Mariella only continued to look confused.

"You seem surprised. Have I upset you?" she asked. Sarah tried to laugh it off.

"Surprised? Yeah, you could say that. When I asked about your facial markings, I just kinda figured it would have had something to do with where you were from, not your sexual tendencies..."

"My what?" Mariella asked, now just as confused as Sarah. Sarah ignored her shame to look up at her, when their eyes met it was clear there had been some kind of miscommunication.

"Your um...your markings...I didn't think they would have anything to do with masochism," Sarah said, awkwardly. Mariella's brow drew.

"What is masochism?" she asked.

Ok, something wasn't right here. They were both greatly confused, and it didn't seem Sarah's explanation had cleared anything up. If anything, it only made things more awkward. She wondered what the hell they were both talking about.

"I...wait. I'm confused. You said you were a masochist?"

"Yes. I am Masochist. I was born in the Isles of Masoch."

A lightbulb the size of Jupiter beamed at the top of Sarah's cranium, and was soon followed by the overwhelming urge to smack herself on the forehead. She closed her eyes and did just that, shaking her head and laughing along the way.

"Um, wow, ok. Gotcha. Yea...that makes sense now...Sorry, it's just that...that word has a very different meaning where I'm from."

Mariella tilted her head slightly.

"Yes...what did you think I meant?" she asked, curiously. Sarah's eyes sprang back up to hers.

"Where I come from, the word masochist means, like...someone who...finds...sexual gratification through pain or degradation...kinda thing...I guess..." she mumbled, or tried to mumble. For some reason, she was a little uncomfortable talking about this. Maybe it was because this woman was still a total stranger. Maybe it was because the idea of masochism hit a little close to home. Or maybe she was just being a prude. Mariella's brow shot up immensely.

"Oh, yes. I can see where that might cause confusion," she said, trying to smooth over Sarah's discomfort with a smile. Sarah rolled her eyes.

"Yea...so, anyway...You're from the Isles of Masoch?"

"Yes. My father is the Earl of Mortna, a small island in the Orpian Gulf," she said. Sarah nodded, satisfied that she actually knew something about the conversation for once, and secretly thanked Roldan for having her bone up on Orpian geography.

"So...people from Masoch have markings like yours?"

"Yes."

"Are they tattoos, or natural?"

"Natural...and if you were wondering, they aren't just on my face. They extend over my entire body," she said. Sarah's eyes widened with intrigue.

"Really? How come? I've never seen a Fae like you...not that I've seen very many Fae at all..." she said. Mariella giggled.

"Well...when the Fae first colonized Masoch, they were met with the local population of water Nymphs," she started, and rose her hands to rest on the rim of the table. "And...as time passed...the Fae and Nymph populations gradually merged with one another, the result of which being the cross-species you see before you." She ended her explanation with a gentle wave of the hands and set them back in her lap. Sarah _ooh'd_ and _ahh'd _for a moment or two.

"Really? Wow, I know Roldan said there were varying sub-species, but I never actually thought about it. Hm, cool." Mariella smirked at her end banter. She'd never heard someone talk the way she did.

"Indeed. I was working as a server at a royal ball, some years ago. Lord Davion spotted me, and offered me a position in Castle Shar...I was only too eager to accept. Imagine, me, the lowly daughter of an Earl, asked by the Lord Davion himself, brother to Jareth King of Goblins, to serve as his private consort..." She reminisced with a smile and a downwards glance, and Sarah could tell from that look alone that it was a happy memory. She tried to imagine the relationship she and Davion shared, and how it differed from that of hers and Jareth's. She was starting to feel sad again. Davion seemed so nice...why did his brother have to turn out so bad?

  



	47. The Right Words, part 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While unbeknown to her, Sarah has succeeded in obtaining the one thing the Goblin King has desired for hundreds of years -power over the Labyrinth. After being hidden for years from his diabolical wrath, Sarah finds herself alone and vulnerable as Jareth's dark desires are finally aloud to rear their ugly heads. As always, the only question is, are things really as they seem?

"And you've been with Davion ever since? For how long?"

"Hmm...only about twenty years. Our affair is still very new. That is why I have much hope that he sees something more in me. I look forward to our next meeting..."

"When do you think that will be?" Sarah asked, mildly concerned.

"At your wedding celebration, of course! And anytime there after...His Majesty is in close contact with his brother on state affairs, I imagine I will see him every now and again...but look at me, rambling on about myself. I came here to learn more about you, where you're from, what your world is like, how it is you came to be the betrothal of the King of Goblins?" she asked, lightheartedly, with no knowledge of the weight that started to pile on top Sarah with each question.

Sarah glanced down, mindlessly picking at the tablecloth. She had a smile on her face, but she was far from happy.

"What would you like to know?" she asked.

"Anything at all. What is the land from which you hail from? Is it a mighty kingdom?" she asked. Sarah almost laughed at that.

"Um, the country I'm from is called America. And..yea, I'd say it's pretty mighty," she answered, her smile just a little more genuine. Mariella leaned in further.

"Were you a princess?"

"Heh, no. I was what you would probably refer to as a uhh...a peasant, I guess," Sarah said. Mariella's brow rose.

"Really? Oh my, I would have never thought..."

"Why? I thought you said Kings were supposed to marry non-royalty?"

"Well...yes, but...the ones they do marry are still of merit. Even royal consorts are born of some reasonable status. But peasants are amongst the lowest of classes," she explained. Sarah pursed her lips at this, not sure if Mariella had meant her comment to be derogatory, or was simply stating a fact. She glanced down with the thought. Hm, even with their strange customs, she was still considered an anomaly.

"Oh...well...I don't know, then. I was pretty middle class, but I don't really think that had anything to do with it," Sarah said. Mariella looked...uncertain.

"I see...how then, did you and His Majesty come to meet?" she asked. Sarah let out a sigh.

"Jareth stole my brother," she said, and quickly grew confused at the way Mariella's face lit up like someone had just given her a box of kittens.

"You have a brother? How wonderful!" she exclaimed.

Sarah just...blinked. Of that short sentence, Mariella managed to completely ignore the one part she intended her to hear. She continued to stare at her, befuddled.

"Um, yea...he's about five now...anyway...yea, Jareth kidnapped him."

"Why would he do that?" she asked.

"I-um..I don't know..." Sarah said, and lied. She knew why Jareth had taken Toby, it was because she'd asked him to... She tried to never think of that.

"Hmm..."

"Yea...but...long story short, I got him back and that was that."

"That was that?" Mariella asked, with a raised brow. Sarah looked everywhere but at her.

"Um, yea, pretty much...until he came back a few years later..."

"He came back for you? Oh my, he must have been truly taken with you. It would certainly explain his odd behavior," she said. Sarah chose to ignore the second part of her statement for the time being.

"If by taken you mean crazy enough to threaten to murder my entire family unless I came back with him, then yes."

"He what? My, Sarah, he must desire you greatly to have gone to such lengths. What a strong love. Strange behavior indeed..."

Sarah flinched, feeling a venomous sting at the way the word love had been thrown into a sentence in reference to Jareth. Mariella was now the second person to say that word to her, and it upset her even more now than when Davion had said it. Jareth didn't love her, and she didn't want him to. Well...not now. Part of Sarah's Being Happy Plan involved, in large part, being happy with Jareth; and if that were to ever happen, then she had to have something to look forward to. And even though she swore she would never give in, a part of her hoped that one day he might actually fall in love with her, and that this event would cause some kind of grand, miraculous change in him where he would see just how awful he had been to her and make true amends with all his horribleness...then maybe one day he really would be the Jareth from her dreams, and maybe one day she really could be happy here -with him. But not now. Not today. Not for a very long time. In the mean time, she tried to ignore it.

"Really? That's the reaction I get when I say he tried to kill everyone I've ever loved?" Mariella eased back at the level of offense she heard in Sarah's voice.

"Sarah, I...I meant no offense."

Sarah rolled her eyes, impatiently.

"No, no, please. I want to know, how do you view the situation?" she asked, nastily, only furthering Mariella's hesitation.

"Well...the farther a male is willing to go in the effort to procure his mate only speaks to the true value and merit of that female."

"Ok, so by saying he would burn my baby brother alive, he was supposedly paying me a compliment?" she snapped. Mariella recoiled slightly.

"You are upset over the threat to your family...you have a strong connection to them. This is understandable. And you were made upset by his actions."

"Yea, you could say that." She'd crossed her arms over her chest by this point, glaring off to the side as she snarled.

"...By your reaction...I am to gather you did not come to this world of your own volition?" she asked. Sarah glared harder.

"That's putting it mildly."

"Then you are his conquest," Mariella said and, after sensing the tension in Sarah's body go rigid, quickly rose a hand to her mouth at her outburst. She wasn't sure what she'd said wrong, but it seemed something about her phrasing hit a nerve.

"His conquest?" Sarah asked, her words moving with a slow, icy chill. That word. _Conquest_. She hated that word.

"Yes..._by conquest_. It is what we refer to as when a being from our world acquires a mate from yours," she explained, observing Sarah's mannerisms with caution.

"Hm, I see. And I don't suppose these conquests have any guidelines about consent, do they?" she asked, trying not to seem like her sudden agitation was directed at her, though she was both its cause and its outlet.

"Well, no, I would say not. It is an act of great pride and honor for a being to _claim_ their mate, and is applauded for the rarity if its prize, as only members of the aristocracy may do so," she said. Sarah narrowed her eyes.

"Oh, I'm sure it is..." Sarah mumbled, disgustedly, trying her best to sooth her quickly escalating anger. _No wonder he was so smug and self-assured about kidnapping me...to him, it was some kind of fucking rite of passage! There is pride in taking your mate by force? There is honor in doing so by any means necessary? Does no one care about what I want? Ugh this place is so backwards! _She waited until she felt the fumes start to dissipate before continuing. "...You said being? You mean women can go on conquests too?" she asked, trying to distract herself. Mariella looked up to her with a raised brow, trying to ignore the tension.

"Oh, but of course. Women are often encouraged on the matter."

"Oh yippee! At least the Fae are progressive in one respect..."

Mariella tilted her head to one side, but didn't voice her curiosity, merely residing to observe Sarah like the exotic animal that she was. A silence began to fall over them, as Sarah sank further and further into her brooding. After a while, Mariella's mood dimmed as well, and her look turned to concern. There was something hanging in the air around them.

"You're not what I expect," she said, quietly. Sarah peered up.

"What?"

"You're not what I expected, when I was told the Goblin King had taken a bride," she clarified. Sarah slouched in her seat.

"What did you expect?" she asked. Mariella shrugged and looked down.

"I expected to find a woman, quiet and well poised. I expected her to yield to her King, that, or cower before him. I did not expect to find a woman of such youth, with such boldness, with such passion and strength. In all honesty...though I have only just now met His Majesty, I am very, very surprised that you are the one he has chosen," she said. Sarah's attention was starting to pull itself up, taking her posture along with it.

"Why are you surprised?" she asked, curious to hear what an outsider had to say on the matter.

"His Majesty...while known to have a high tolerance, is not known for his leniency, and his bursts of anger are...well documented."

"Your point?"

"All I'm saying is...after the the way His Majesty...well...let's just say I am very surprised that you are as well off as you are..."

"So I keep hearing..." Sarah mumbled, so tired of being told the same thing over and over again. She knew Jareth had a short temper and a violent streak, but he wasn't nearly as bad as the way everyone made him out to be. This had her worrying, wondering of all the things he had done to earn himself such a reputation, and thought back to all the times he'd warned her about trying his patience... Mariella frowned.

"But...that must mean things are better now? You have consented? I mean...you accepted his marriage proposal..."

Sarah glanced up.

"As if I actually had any choice," she said. The way she muttered made Mariella lean in over the table, urging her attention.

"Oh, but that is the most crucial part!"

Sarah lifted her chin from her knuckles.

"Huh?"

"The conquest...it is one thing to procure your mate, but it is another thing to win them once they are here. Marriage is always decided by the female. You may have been taken, but you accepted his proposal, which would mean..."

"Wait- you mean I have power over this marriage? That means I can say no if I want to?!" Sarah's outburst was so grand, she nearly knocked the pitcher of water off the table as she lurched from her seat. Mariella froze.

"Well...you _had_ power...but have already agreed. There is no stopping it now. And the Fae do not believe in divorce..." Mariella explained, watching with strange sympathy as the light, as well as the smile, slowly faded from Sarah's face. She sank back down in her chair again.

"Oh...but that means...that-" There was a pause as some explosive realization ripped its way through Sarah's mind. "That nasty little cheat!"

A new fire combust in Sarah's eyes as some unknown fervor breathed fresh air into her lungs. _THAT STUPID, MANIPULATIVE, DEVIOUS, TOW-FACED ASS-HOLE! UGH! Every time. Why is it that every time I fall for one of his stupid tricks! Ugh!_ She thought back, back to the night Jareth had wriggled a yes out of her. She thought he was just trying to torment her, thought it was just some kind of game to him. The only reason she'd said it was so he would stop sticking his fingers where they didn't belong, but aside form that, she really didn't think what she said mattered either way. She figured that since he'd taken her, that meant he could do whatever he wanted with her and she couldn't do anything to stop it. But Mariella had just said that marriage was decided by the female...even in cases of conquest! That would mean that if Sarah had just had the courage to stick it to him, then none of this wedding/Goblin Queen/lessons bull shit would be happening! Gah!

"Ugh! Of course, every freaking time! Why? Why is nothing ever clear?" She continued to rant and groan to herself, ignoring whatever impression Mariella may be having of her. After a few more minutes, Mariella reached out and tapped one of Sarah's fists, which had been trying their best not to pound against the table.

"Sarah...are you really so against this marriage?" she asked. Sarah paused mid-flare, and looked up to her. For some reason, it took her more than a split-second to answer her question.

"Y-yes...Of course I am!"

"Why?"

Again, the answer seemed to stutter on the end of her tongue, and for some reason completely oblivious to her, that one simple question had caught her off guard in a way in which it shouldn't have. She blinked a couple of times to clear her head.

"Be-because, because he kidnapped me, that's why! He took away my entire life! He took me from my home, my friends, my family, my future. He took me and stuck me here. And he expects me to be grateful for it?"

"But, he is a King. You are being offered the highest position a woman can attain in our society. You have the means to have anything you could ever want, and the power to see anything you want happen. And...forgive me but...you also have something that now, no other woman will ever have...His Majesty," she said, with just a hint of suggestiveness. Sarah threw herself back in her chair.

"Exactly. I have Jareth. And if you haven't noticed, he isn't exactly Mr Romeo," she snarked, sighing heavily with irritation. Mariella had no idea who this Mr Romeo was, but she understood enough to feel somewhat sympathetic. She'd been around other brides of conquest in her travels. ...Though most often than not, it did not take long for them to become willing...

"Perhaps...in time, when you better understand your circumstances, you will see things a little differently," she said. Sarah scoffed and rolled her eyes, having had enough of the discussion.

"Because nothing is what it seems and all that jazz, right?" she asked. There was a pause, enough of one for Sarah to look up.

"I suppose, but...what is jazz?" Mariella asked, earning herself the one brief, reflexive laugh needed to finally break the ice.

* * *

Sarah was surprised at how smoothly the night progressed. Although she had just met her, and although she was a Fae, Sarah found herself surprisingly comfortable with Mariella's company. After their initial inquisition, the rest of their conversations became pleasantly lighthearted. It was like a breath of fresh air, being around someone as un-intimidating as Mariella. She didn't feel the need to be constantly on guard, and found herself laughing alongside her at the colorful misinterpretations between their natures. There was an earnestness between them, a genuine intrigue that she hadn't really felt in all her time being in the Underground. Jareth wasn't the least bit interested in her past, in her life before him. Sarah couldn't put to words how good it felt to have someone actually care. With that said, she did try to keep distance. She was still a stranger, and Sarah knew better by now than to just trust every friendly face that came her way.

It was about eight o'clock now, and Sarah was starting to wonder/worry when Jareth would be returning. While initially, she hadn't thought twice about trying his temper, the longer she sat with Mariella, the deeper her words bore. And it seemed, that the past few nights of supposedly meaningless pleasantry, were surely at an end. She tried not to think like that, and instead focused on she and Mariella's current topic of discussion.

Earlier, Sarah had mentioned her lesson plan with Roldan, something that Mariella found very intriguing. While Mariella hadn't ever met Master Roldan, she had heard a great deal about him through Davion, and had voiced her curiosity to finally put a face to all the rumors. Sarah teased her on this, telling her not to get her hopes too high. That lead to talk of Sarah's current homework project -boning up on the history of Jeju. Mariella, who, apparently, had once served in a hall belonging to a wealthy lord of Jeju, was only too willing to offer up any and all insider knowledge she had on the subject. Currently, they were each working through a couple of the books Sarah hadn't had the chance to skim through. They'd migrated to the couch, after a real dinner of course, and were both thoroughly engrossed in their individual text. Deep down, Sarah questioned Mariella's interest to read these books along with her, but she seemed sincere enough. It wasn't long however, until Sarah hit the usual technical difficulty.

"Mmm.." Sarah groaned, narrowing her eyes at the stupid swirly lines that in no way, shape or form could possibly spell a real word in the english language. She didn't understand why people wrote like this. What was more, was that she couldn't understand why Roldan continued to give these to her, even after she'd told him numerous times that she couldn't read calligraphy like this. It was so impractical. The loops were so tall and whimsical, that what she thought was one word took up a good chunk of the page.

Mariella glanced up at the sound of Sarah's frustration and kindly offered her support.

"Is something the matter?" she asked. Sarah sighed.

"No...I just can't understand this kind of writing," she answered, gripping the book's ends a little harder. Mariella scooched across the couch.

"May I try?" she asked. Sarah coughed it up to her.

"Ah, yes. I think I understand your frustration," she said and, in a very familiar manner, ran her finger down the page so that the type transformed itself. Sarah looked up expectantly. "Heh, this is about as far as my magical prowess goes," she explained, with a shrug and a smile. She went to flip the page, and Sarah's eyes couldn't help but catch on the painful twitch that shot through her fingers.

She winced, and pulled away like nothing happened.

"Are you alright?" Sarah asked, focusing her eyes on the scowl that Mariella tried to hide.

"What? Oh...yes. Yes, I'm fine," she said, with absolutely zero conviction. Sarah scowled harder.

"What's wrong with your hand?" she asked, looking down and reaching out for the limb in question. Mariella tried not to wince again when Sarah's fingers curled around her own. "Jesus! Look how swollen it is! What in the hell happened?!"

Mariella tried to blink away the tenderness.

"Nothing, really, it was nothing for you to be worrying about. It's fine, really," she said, desperately trying to escape the situation, though Sarah refused to back down. She rose Mariella's hand to better examine it. This was the first time she had been close enough to examine her in detail, and felt horrible that it had taken her this long to notice how swollen her one hand was. Her fingers were turning black and blue for Christ's sake! What the Hell?

"Bull shit this is nothing! And you're damn right I'm worried. What happened to you?" Sarah asked, a third time, growing more upset at the way Mariella tried to shy away from her.

"My, Sarah, language..." she murmured, aiming for a distraction. It didn't work. If anything, Mariella only sank further into the pit. When she glanced away, she'd rose her free hand to brush her hair behind her ear, in a nervous manner. As Sarah watched, up close and personal, she realized there were more than just birthmarks on her face.

"Oh My God! And your face! Jesus Mariella, why didn't I see these sooner?!" Sarah exclaimed, shooting up from her spot straight into Mariella's face. She hadn't noticed before, maybe it was because her markings were in the way, or maybe it had just taken this long for the bruises to form, but as it was, Sarah sat, appalled at the vicious bruises dotting the corners of her jaw. Mariella flushed and tried to turn away. Sarah was about ready to grab onto her face and pull her back to her.

"Sarah, really, there is no need-"

"Like Hell there isn't! These bruises are fresh. They weren't there a few hours ago. What the Hell happened? Did Jareth do this? Is that why you were so afraid when he brought you here?" Sarah's voice had risen considerably, full of concern, compassion and outrage. She swore to God that if Jareth had anything to do with it she was going to kill him. Mariella was such a nice, sweet girl. What reason could he have to hurt her like this? Holding Mariella's hand, it made her remember the night Jareth had done the same thing to her arm. Her anger rose to a dangerous level much too quickly. She was about ready to blow a gasket if she didn't get herself under control. Meanwhile, Mariella was still trying to run away. "Tell me what happened," Sarah commanded.


	48. The Right Words, part 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While unbeknown to her, Sarah has succeeded in obtaining the one thing the Goblin King has desired for hundreds of years -power over the Labyrinth. After being hidden for years from his diabolical wrath, Sarah finds herself alone and vulnerable as Jareth's dark desires are finally aloud to rear their ugly heads. As always, the only question is, are things really as they seem?

"Sarah, please. There is no need to become upset. His Majesty was merely acting in accordance with custom. It was I who was at fault," she said, hoping to appease her radical Queen's anger. It only made it worse.

"I order you to tell me what happened, right now." The sense of hardened resolve in Sarah's voice was not to be taken lightly. There was such blackness in her eyes, such anger. It had Mariella wondering if this was about something more than the few bruises on her face. She shifted around a bit, uncomfortably.

"I...I showed His Majesty a great disrespect. I was out of my place. He merely put me back in it," she said, hoping that would be enough. Of course, it wasn't. The tension in the room continued to grow to the point where Mariella was expecting steam to actually shoot out of Sarah's ears.

"Tell me what happened when you got here," Sarah ordered. Mariella pursed her lips with a frown.

"I...conducted myself in a way that was not proper of my position. I conducted myself the way a woman would conduct herself around a male. Only...that was not right." She kept her words as vague as possible, not wanting to by the cause of yet another fight between her new masters.

"What do you mean that wasn't right?"

"I...I was under the impression that you and His Majesty were not yet wed-"

"We're not," Sarah interrupted. Mariella shot her an eye.

"Yes, so I thought. But...His Majesty does not care for formality...I conducted myself as if he were not taken, while he deserved the conduct of a man who belongs to another. I showed him a great dishonor by not acknowledging you as his mate," she said. Sarah's eyes were wide and on fire.

"What? What did you do that made him angry enough to do this to you?" she asked, baffled. Mariella glanced downward with shame.

"I...I held his gaze, repeatedly. It is highly disgraceful for a woman to look a claimed male in the eye...And I...may have placed a hand on him...It is explicitly forbidden to lay a hand on a male who is neither yours nor free..."

"You mean to tell me he crushed your hand and left a fucking hand print around your neck because you touched him and looked him in the eye?! Are you fucking serious?!"

"Sarah! Please, do not speak such words!"

"No. I'm pissed. This is how a talk when I'm pissed. What the Hell is wrong with him? Fucking maniac! He doesn't even know you! And you came here to serve in his castle! And you didn't even do anything!"

Sarah was about ready to stomp her way to where ever Jareth was lurking and punch him in the throat. She was so angry, ridiculously, ungodly angry. _Why would he do that? Why would he hurt such a poor, sweet girl like this?! _Here she was, only hours ago thinking that he wasn't as bad as everyone made him out to be. Had she been living in a delusion, or was he really_ that_ cruel? She thought back to all the times he'd told her that if she were _anyone else_ he would have done all sorts of horrible things to her for her behavior. Well, Mariella was _anyone else_, and so it seemed he was living true to his word. All she did was look him in the eye! She was repulsed by this, revolted that he would act so violently over something so minuscule, and mildly terrified that for some reason he seemed to be giving her special treatment. Why? Why would he put up with her when he could bruise this poor woman's face without even a second thought. She felt so bad now, so upset for Mariella's suffering. And yet, Mariella continued to defend him,

"Sarah, please. Truly, the fault was with I, not His Majesty. Do not be cross with him. I knew you were betrothed, and although you are not formally wed yet, I still should have treated him as such. He feels very strongly about his claim to you, and I disrespected you both by acting against it. To be honest, that was why he so outraged: not that I disrespected him, but that I disrespected you. He was reclaiming your pride, My Lady. I stepped over a boundary, and he put me back where I belong. Please, this kind of treatment is expected," she said, or pleaded, but Sarah's eyes only grew wider with the way she ended her statement.

"Is expected?! You expect to have bones broken for looking at someone the wrong way? What is wrong with this place?! No. No. You're my hand maiden, and I'll be damned if I sit back while Jareth abuses you. He's never going to touch you again, got it? Did he do anything else to you?"

"Sarah...please-"

"I asked if he did anything else to you. Tell me the truth Mariella."

"He...he..." Mariella struggled, not with trauma over what happened, but with the thought that Sarah would only overreact further once she knew. She let out a hard breath, knowing she was compelled to tell her without question. "He had me searched," she said. Sarah blinked, waiting for a bigger impact.

"He searched you? Why?"

"He did not trust me. After all, I am but a stranger. He had me remove my clothing while-"

Sarah's eyes shot out of her head.

"He WHAT?!" she exclaimed. Mariella sat back, momentarily stunned by the ferocious expression Sarah's face had gnarled itself into.

"He-"

"He what? He didn't touch you, did he?"

Mariella's eyes flickered down to see Sarah's hands clawing into the couch until the tips of her fingers turned red. Such a display of emotion was ...unbecoming.

"Um, no. No. He had me remove my clothing while the Goblins searched me. But, Sarah, you mustn't be disturbed. He was merely seeing to your safety-"

"My safety!? Oh, you've got to be kidding. You didn't have to get naked in front of him in order for the Goblins to search you," Sarah blurted. Mariella looked down.

"...It was my punishment," she said, quietly.

"Wh-"

"I had over-stepped my position...I needed to be shown my place as beneath he and you...this act of defilement was his means of asserting his position as alpha...as King. Again, I was shown great mercy."

"No. This is ridiculous. What are you, a pack of wolves? Did Davion ever treat you that way when you were with him?" Sarah asked.

"-On occasion, yes," she answered. The breath Sarah had been mustering for her next outburst caught in her throat, not expecting that as her answer. Mariella used it as a chance to take over the conversation. "I am a servant, Sarah. And this is the way things are done. We must learn from our mistakes, and to learn we must remember them and why never to enact them again. You must understand, this is our custom, we accept it along with any other obligation. It was my choice to serve His Majesty, just as it was my choice to serve Lord Davion, and so I accept any and all consequences that come along with it. His Majesty was very merciful. He could have had me executed, but he did not. He let me come to you, even after showing you dishonor. That is something to be grateful for."

"You're grateful that he hurt and defiled you for all to see? That's messed up and I won't stand for it."

"No, I am grateful that something far worse did not happen. He had every right to do what he did. It was my mistake, for trusting Lord Davion."

"Wait, what?" Sarah asked, briefly distracted from her vehemence. Mariella had started running circles around her wrist.

"Lord Davion...he told me how to best conduct myself in his brother's company."

"I don't- wait- what are you saying?" Sarah asked, confused and suspicious.

"Lord Davion knows the nature of his brother like no other-"

"So you're saying he set you up? What the? Why? Why would he do that?!" Another flare of outrage was quickly making its way to the surface in tidal waves. Why would Davion, the sweet, awkward, charming, missing part of Jareth, do such a thing? What was she even hearing? Mariella shrugged.

"Sometimes...Lord Davion is known to have a rather...austere...sense of humor," she explained. Sarah felt part of her heart drop, unwilling to believe Davion could in any way be just as cruel as his brother, utterly ignoring the voice in the back of her mind saying that Jareth only hurt people when he thought it was necessary, while Davion did it for fun. Was really nothing as it seemed?

"And you're okay with that?" Sarah asked. Mariella pursed her lips.

"Lord Davion does not conceal his mischievous nature. It is his way. Those in his company must merely tread more carefully. I suspect...or I hope...that this was not just a joke, but more of a test, and that I may prove myself to be worthy of enduring not just him but all of his devilry as well."

Sarah had started shaking her head with sheer befuddlement at the way Mariella had just rationalized everything that would have made Sarah want to break down and cry. _Is that really how people here think? How can they possibly think that's okay? That's not okay. It's horrible!_ She glanced down, her eyes locking on Mariella's swollen hand, and grew both sad and angry all at once. She was upset, upset that this woman was completely fine with the abuse she'd been dealt, upset that Davion was no longer her White Knight of the North, and forlorn with the confirmation that Jareth was still just as bi-polar as ever. She frowned as she stared at the black and purple blotches around her knuckles.

"Can you heal that? Or do you want me to get you an ice-pack?" she heard herself ask, though her voice sounded just as far away as her thoughts. Mariella frowned as well.

"I do not have that ability...though I will manage, thank you. You do not need to lift a finger towards me," she said. Sarah looked up.

"Are you kidding? You're just going to sit there in pain? What if something's broken?"

"Sarah...this is His Majesty's punishment. I must bear it for as long as my reconciliation takes."

"Reconciliation? What is this, Sunday mass? He's not Jesus! He's just some pompous ass-hole who let a couple of centuries worth of walking all over people go to his head!"

Sarah had stood up by this point, and was practically hollering down at poor Mariella with a pointing index finger n' all. Mariella, who had sunk back so far into the couch she was about to disappear, merely gaped up with abashment. She opened her mouth to respond, but just then, both parties turned their eccentrically opposing expressions to the right as the sound of the door clicking open put a hush over the atmosphere. Sarah's fired up glare turned to a snarl, and she quickly stomped around the end of the couch.

"Oh, perfect timing," she snarled to herself, b-lining in straight to the door just as Jareth made his way in. Mariella thought to take cover.


	49. The Right Words, part 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While unbeknown to her, Sarah has succeeded in obtaining the one thing the Goblin King has desired for hundreds of years -power over the Labyrinth. After being hidden for years from his diabolical wrath, Sarah finds herself alone and vulnerable as Jareth's dark desires are finally aloud to rear their ugly heads. As always, the only question is, are things really as they seem?

He'd barely made it over the threshold when Sarah was up in his face jabbing at him and flailing her words at him like a harpy.

"What the Hell is wrong with you?!" She roared, the consequences of her actions holding no spot in her current list of priorities. Mariella jumped from her seat and scuttled off to the side.

Jareth, who had been looking rather indifferent at this point, lowered his gaze to hers after being slammed in the face with her slander. The look that met her was as dangerous as it was foreboding. He took another step into the room.

"I know you're the Big Bad King n' all, but that gives you no right to treat someone like an animal. She came here because Davion told her to. She came here to serve _me_ and to serve _you_. And you welcome her by breaking her hand and scaring the living shit out of her? I see a definite trend here and I'm not about to stand for it."

Mariella's eyes were so wide she swore they touched her ears, and she stood stock still, feeling the overwhelming urge to throw herself at Jareth's feet, yet completely unable to move. She feared, with all her heart, the consequences that surely awaited Sarah's outburst.

Jareth's aura radiated something deadly, and a sharpness cut through his eyes like razor blades. His features hardened, a black fire slowly bubbling it's way through his gaze. He took another step, the last step needed to close the gap on Sarah. She didn't move a muscle. They held each other's gaze for a moment.

"...Leave," Jareth mumbled, keeping his eyes strictly on Sarah. Mariella understood his command was to her and quickly vacated the room, pausing in the doorway for a brief moment to glance back at Sarah, hoping that come tomorrow, her face would still be the same picture it was now.

The door shut quietly behind them.

* * *

Sarah held her stand-off against Jareth well after Mariella left the room. It was quiet, and if it weren't for the amount of tension burning between them, it would have been awkwardly so. She stood, hands on hips, glaring up at him. Her rage, fueled by far too many outside forces, made her courage impenetrable...though she knew otherwise.

There was a venom in Jareth's eyes as he stared at her, and it took Sarah just one second too long to realize it was because he was weighing the differing ways in which he could react to everything she'd just said. His stance went rigid, a clear signal that his decision had been made.

"Come here," he said, low and slow. Sarah glared harder.

"No," she answered. Jareth seemed to twitch just then.

"I gave you an order," he said, his voice quiet, too quiet.

"I thought we'd already decided that I respond to commands just as well as you do?" she snapped, crossing her arms over her chest in a defensive manner. She expected him to crack a smirk then, that tell-tale smile that said shit was about to hit the fan. But he didn't. He didn't do anything at all.

"If I have to come over there and get you, you're going to be very, very sorry," he muttered. Sarah angled her body away from him.

"What, sorry like Mariella?" she snapped, trying to maintain her aggressive demeanor. In truth, his calmness was scaring the hell out of her.

"No," he started, his eyes dead-locked on hers like a predator about to go in for the kill. "Worse."

Sarah flinched, feeling a crack of intimidation work its way through her armor. She bit the inside of her cheek. There was a small voice in the back of her head telling her to take a different approach before something horrible happened. Jareth was never this quiet when they fought...

"Ok, I know you felt like she disrespect you, but-"

"You know nothing of disrespect," he interrupted, nastily. Sarah paused for half a second.

"So you up and choke her and break her hand because she looked you in the eye? That's cruel and abusive and totally wrong, Jareth." She'd turned herself a little towards him as she spoke.

"You...know absolutely nothing of what she did," he said. Sarah gave in to his bait.

"Yes, I do. Women aren't supposed to look married men in the eye or touch them, and that's what she did to you because she thought we weren't married yet and that was ok. Well let me tell you something, Jareth: WE'RE NOT MARRIED YET. Which means she did absolutely nothing wrong. You had no reason to hurt her like that, there was no reason to hurt her at all," she said and flickered her eyes over the tension that then began to pulse through him.

"Taken," he said. Sarah scrunched her brow.

"What?"

"Taken men. Women are not allowed to look taken men in the eye. We may not be wed, but I consider myself taken by you, just as you have been claimed by me. She knew that and still chose to act like the whore she is."

"Don't call her that! She is very sweet and nice and caring, unlike some other people I'm forced to deal with. And you terrified the living shit out of her!" She threw her hands up in the air during her rant. Jareth twitched again.

"Did she also tell you how she propositioned her willingness to fuck me if I ever got bored of you and your prude-ness?" he asked, with just a twinge of sarcastic snarl. Sarah froze.

"-What?" she asked. Jareth crossed his arms over his chest and cracked a smirk -finally. Though she didn't know if that was necessarily a good thing.

"So, you're upset that I punished her for placing a hand on me, and yet didn't think to ask why she had her hands on me in the first place?"

Sarah hesitated. She hadn't thought of that...the reason hadn't mattered. But...but now... She was surprised to find herself deeply unsettled by the reveal. Why would Mariella do that?...

"I- It-"

"So you're condoning her behavior then? You find nothing about that inappropriate? I thought I was acting on that sense of marital obligation you said was so important to you. Hm, maybe I will take up her offer after all."

Sarah continued to grow more and more unnerved. Her anger was slowly draining. She hadn't expected him to turn the tables like this. He had done a horrible thing, and she was outraged by it. But, for some reason, all she could think about was the prospect of Jareth cheating on her, and how just the very idea of it made her feel utterly hopeless. What the hell? She opened her mouth to speak, her expression now uncertain.

"No, it's not appropriate. But that doesn't mean she deserved to be abused and defiled in front of all your creepy Goblins!" Jareth took half a step forward.

"She deserved to be chained and lashed until she eventually died of blood loss. The only reason she isn't down in the dungeons right now is out of respect to my brother," he said, only raising his voice a tiny bit. Sarah found the backbone that had been trying to hide from her.

"What is wrong with you! How can you be so cold and vicious?" she hollered at him. Jareth's ears tensed.

"Morality is a perspective, Sarah. And I do believe that you are outnumbered in this. What I did to her was just, and appropriately so. For you to speak out against me like this is even more reprehensible than what she did," he said, letting the silence burgeon as Sarah fought for a response. After a moment, he thought to end her struggling. "I do believe I told you to come here."

"And I believe I told you, I'm fine right where I am."

Jareth closed his eyes, and opened them very slowly.

"If I have to repeat myself a third time, you're going to see just how cold and vicious I can be."

Sarah gaped, and shook her head in disbelief.

"You really are that twisted, aren't you? All of you. Where is your empathy? Your humanity?" she asked, looking down on him from the pillar she stood on. The heavy aura surrounding Jareth became palpable.

"You're forgetting one very important thing," he began to say, unfolding his arms as his fists slowly clenched. His head lowered and his shoulders tensed, the air around him starting to tremble. "I am not human," he said, and lunged at her so suddenly, that Sarah had no idea what hit her.

He was on her in a millisecond. She had enough time to unfold her arms in preparation to run away, when he caught her by the wrist. His grip tightened like a vice and ripped her back, sending her stumbling passed him towards the door. He kept hold of her arm as she flew, and used it to spring her back after she was well disoriented. She fumbled and gasped from being flung around, and was just barely able to register Jareth's movements as he pulled her in close and clamped his free hand around her jaw.

"Jareth- What are you-" Both his hands tightened immensely.

"You stand there and preach your values and your perfection, and yet you are the one who is looked down on. It is your behavior that is disgusting, not mine. You may think me vile and apathetic, but believe it or not I do understand your ignorance, and THAT, my darling, is the ONLY reason I have kept myself restrained from lashing out against your constant disrespect. That is the only reason why you have continued to get away all your primitive obscenity. But-" He paused, constricting his hold on her wrist until she squealed, and clawed his fingers into her cheek until he could feel her teeth through the delicate flesh. "If you ever undermine me in front of another, servant or otherwise, I will whip you until you bleed," he said, his words laced with all kinds of poison and promise. Sarah whimpered, struggling to handle the acute pain of his fingers pressing like daggers into her cheeks. "Have I made myself clear?" His voice had risen to a loud, terrifying octave. Sarah closed her eyes to hide from it.

"Jareth- I- I-"

"Don't you even think about apologizing. I have no need for empty words. You have been spending the past week with Roldan for the sole purpose of learning how to conduct yourself around others. Consider today a trial run. You're lucky that wench is as insignificant as the remorse you pretend to feel, because you, my sweet, darling, insolent, Sarah, have failed miserably."

She gasped when he suddenly let go of her and shoved her away from him with considerable force. She stumbled back and hit the door, having just enough time to catch her breath before he was in her face again.

He watched as she bounced off the door, the force of which causing the old wood to vibrate and rumble loudly. He took a step and caught her by the shoulders, pushing her back into the door again with another thud. She bobbed like a rag-doll, feeling the air she'd just gathered being knocked clear out of her again. She looked up, trying to orient herself for an escape, when all of the sudden, his hands squeezed, and his body pressed up against hers.

"You just don't know when to quit, do you?" he asked and, before she could either gasp or scream, slammed her against the door a third time, crushing his mouth onto hers with violent voracity.

Sarah whimpered from the pain of being slammed against the deep carvings in the door, but couldn't pay much attention to it after registering Jareth's mouth viciously raping her own. She tried to stave him off, but he would have none of it. His kiss was unforgiving, prying apart her twisted lips and biting down on them without mercy. His tongue invaded, pillaging and plundering until his point was well made. His hands left her shoulders and clawed around either side of her head, holding her in place as he sucked on her lips, with such unrelenting energy that it forced her to reciprocate just so she could breathe. His fingers tightened and curled in her scalp, pulling at the roots of her hair, and his body moved to press his pelvis up against her, leaving her as stiff as a plank against his onslaught.

"Don't apologize until you mean it," he whispered, and kissed her again. This time, she was able to bite him back. She rose her arms and pushed against him, not stopping to question why he let her get away.

"Ugh, Jeezus! What the hell is wrong with you?!" she hollered, darting a good ten feet away before turning back around to face him. She wiped at her mouth with the back of her hand, feeling a sharp sting as the inside of her lip scraped against her teeth. Jareth turned to face her.

" Seven," he said. Sarah's expression became stupefied.

"What?"

" Seven. I told you, I have been counting. You're up to seven offenses against me, seven offenses which you will be punished for," he explained. Sarah's stance grew tense, and slightly agitated.

"Jareth-"

"With that said, I'd like to make this practical, and take this as an opportunity to further the progression of your game plan," he said, his tone suspiciously lighthearted. Sarah drew her brow on him.

"What? What game plan? You mean-"

"I mentioned that there are chemical signals for various emotions, the strongest of which being anger and fear. I think now would be a good time for you to practice withholding some of those signals," he said, and took a step forward. She took a step back. "But, since this is your first offense, I am willing to take pity on you. How about this, if you can control those endorphins and make it passed me to the door, I'll revoke your punishment." Sarah's chest puffed up in preparation to speak. "On the condition, that you acknowledge the generosity and mercy that I have bestowed you." She closed her mouth again.

"Generosity? Mercy? You've got to be kidding me." She scowled, crossing her arms over her chest. Jareth's lips twitched in a smirk.

"Is that a no then? Your God knows how much I would love to beat you senseless right now." There was a smile on his lips as he spoke, causing Sarah to wonder whether he was joking or not. The fear that trickled down her spine bade her opt for not.

  



	50. The Right Words, part 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While unbeknown to her, Sarah has succeeded in obtaining the one thing the Goblin King has desired for hundreds of years -power over the Labyrinth. After being hidden for years from his diabolical wrath, Sarah finds herself alone and vulnerable as Jareth's dark desires are finally aloud to rear their ugly heads. As always, the only question is, are things really as they seem?

"Fine," she snapped.

"Fine, what?"

"Fine, I'll play your stupid game, and acknowledge that it is far better than being beaten senseless." Jareth smirked at the way she rolled her eyes, a clear signal that she was trying to remain confident when really, she was shaking in her boots. His eyes traveled down, and lingered on her dainty little feet as her toes wiggled nervously within her socks. He had a smirk on his face when he looked back up to her.

"Whenever you're ready," he said, with a low gesture of his hands.

Sarah pouted as she glared at the dangerously mercurial Goblin King. For a moment there, she was pretty sure he was going to whip the shit out of her, and was having a hard time trying to figure out how exactly she ended up in her current position. But she did admit that he was right, a game of red rover was far better than being beaten senseless.

She surveyed the area, searching for any possible routes of escape. All she had to do was reach the door? That seemed too simple...that's when she realized that the challenge wasn't getting to the door, but getting passed Jareth. She found this predicament curious. She unfolded her arms and, before she could think about it too long, made a mad dash for the door.

Jareth caught her by the shoulder and threw her to the ground. She hit it like a sack of bricks.

"Ugh, what the hell?" she snarled, scowling at the floor as she tried to make it back to her feet. She glared at him and tried again.

He caught her by the wrist this time, flinging her around to take her by the shoulders and shoved her back down again. She landed on her knees with a hard thud, the impact against the hard wood hurt like hell. She growled and whipped back around.

"You're just having so much fun right now, aren't you?" she snapped. Jareth rose a bored eyebrow at her.

"You're not getting angry, are you?" he asked, tauntingly. Sarah fisted her hands on the floor before springing up to dash around him. He turned slightly, and tripped her with his boot. She went flying face first into the wall. She gasped and grunted, not bothering to acknowledge the pain shooting through her nose when she realized she was only a few feet away from the door. She scuttled to her feet and lunged, and then shrieked when Jareth's hand twisted in her hair and yanked her back down. He let go to let her own inertia send her flying. This time, she hit the back of the couch.

"Stop it already!" she roared, his taunting and petty inflictions enraging her like nothing else. Her head was starting to pound and her body ache, but she ignored it.

"Ready to give up already?"

"Urgggg." She growled and tried using sheer bullheadedness to push past him. She didn't even have the chance to make it to him.

As Sarah charged, she looked up just in time to see Jareth smirk, before being smacked in the face by some unknown force. She'd only made it about half way to him when some kind of invisible barrier halted her in her tracks. And although it was invisible, it was certainly tangible. Her rampage had been crushed so abruptly, it felt like she'd stormed straight into a brick wall. She felt her eyes water as she stumbled back. _What the fuck?! _She glared up at him with murderous intent in her eyes, then straightened up and tried stomping towards him.

"Are you kidding me?!" she exclaimed, throwing her arms up in the air when she found a clear barrier had been placed between she and Jareth.

"Something the matter? You seem frustrated."

"No shit, I'm frustrated. You're cheating!" she screamed, baring him tooth and claw. God, what she wouldn't do for the chance to rip his hair out.

"Eight," he said, and crossed his arms over his chest again, raising an eyebrow when she didn't seem to get it. "I'm still counting."

"How am I supposed to get to the door with a magical barrier in the way?"

"Not my problem. Figure it out."

She snarled some more.

"So you're just going to watch me as a flail myself into a wall over and over again?" she asked, nastily. Jareth tilted his head to one side and gave her a cheeky grin. She looked to the heavens and pleaded. "And you have a problem with my immaturity," she snarled.

"Do you ever think before you act?" Jareth asked. Sarah looked back to him. "Or do you just barge in with anger and self-righteous obstinacy?" She narrowed her eyes on him.

"What do you want from me! You put up a freaking wall!"

"Maybe you should start thinking through your situation and realize that there may be more than one way to handle it." Sarah glared at the floor, about ready to gag at his patronizing tone, and fisted her hands at her sides. There was a very, very long pause. It was obvious what he wanted.

"Jareth...could you please let me pass?" Her pride rolled over in its grave, but there was just no other option. That weasel knew exactly what he was doing. God damn it, why did he always win? Jareth's grin curled a little more, and he moved to take a step aside. Sarah was cautious, and hesitated a moment before taking a precarious step forward. She was both pleased, and suspicious, when the wall was no longer there. She took a few more steps, eyeing Jareth down and creeping along like she was walking on glass. She hunched over a little when moving passed him, and was about to let out a breath when she saw her goal in sight. She reached out, about to place her hand on the door, when she felt Jareth's hand at her back, pushing her full force into the wood.

She coughed as her chest hit the door, which was soon followed by her face. She rose her hands to push herself up, but Jareth's forearm had anchored itself across her shoulders.

" *_Oophh_* Jar-What the-"

He had her pressed so hard she had to turn her face to the side. He brought himself a hair's width away from her ear.

"See how easy life becomes when you simply ask politely instead of command?" he murmured, angling his arm to wind a hand in the hair at the nape of her neck. He used this grip to turn her around to face him.

"Let go of me, Jareth," she said, through gritted teeth, snarling at the way he kept her head pulled back. Jareth's brow rose and he shook his head subtly.

"I thought we were close to a breakthrough just now. You'll never learn, will you?"

"I got to the door. Now, let me go."

Jareth glanced downward and sighed, shifting his weight onto one leg so he could meet her at eye-level.

"I think you're forgetting one of the conditions. You were to get to the door while withholding any and all anger pheromones. You were so earnest in your attempts, I didn't have the heart to tell you, you failed the moment we started," he said. Sarah groaned as his fist tightened.

"You're such an ass," she muttered.

Jareth moved back a fraction of an inch, glancing down to the floor, and sighed. He loosened his grip to gently take hold of the sides of her face.

"And here I thought we'd been having a rather pleasant week, what happened?" he asked. Sarah glared harder, if at all possible.

"You're a jerk. And I'm on my period."

His thumbs started to stroke her cheeks.

"Ah, is that all?" he asked, teasingly. Sarah pursed her lips at him with distaste. "Well...as much as I would like to let you off the hook, this night is an inevitability. I can't simply allow today's behavior go unpunished...It is such a shame that you are so stubborn..." he said, and tilted his head towards her, tenderly caressing her face. He held her stern gaze for a moment or two, his expression turning soft. "I really, _really_, don't want to bruise that pretty face of yours..." he said, with half a frown, and moved his hands down to her shoulders. Sarah was about to un-tense when he said, "I'll just have to bruise something else instead."

Sarah's eyes barely had time to show her horror when Jareth fisted a hand in the collar of her shirt and yanked her from the wall. She stumbled after him, catching his wrist with both hands and yanking him off of her with all her might. He tore a couple buttons, but she got away. She turned to make her get away, but was halted mid-leap when Jareth's hand hooked under the rim of her belt. He caught her and clawed for the buckle. She didn't really know what he was doing, but didn't much care when the buckle came undone, freeing her for her escape once more. She dashed away, and turned around when there was a good distance between them. He was just standing there, holding her belt in his hand.

"There...this will do nicely," he said, raising her belt to pull it taught between his hands. Sarah's eyes widened in horror.

"What? What are you- No. You don't think you're going to whip me with that, do you?" she asked, appalled. Jareth's grin was dastardly.

"I think that's exactly what I'm going to do. You're up to nine now. One for each offense."

Sarah took another step back.

"No. No way. There's no way in Hell I'm letting you hit me with that," she said. Jareth took a step forward, glancing down at the thick band of leather in his hands.

"That's the beauty of it, you don't have to," he said, not bothering to move a single muscle when Sarah finally decided it was time to run again. She turned and jerked, but found herself unable to move, her feet now glued to the floor. Great, more magic. That's when she realized that if he really wanted to catch her, that was all he ever had to do, which meant that all this time, all her fumbling, he was just fucking with her. Her glare shot fire at him.

Jareth took his time as he approached her, reveling in the moment. Initially, when he'd first come in, Sarah's words had sent him over a dangerous ledge. It was all he could do not to back hand her across the room. But he was able to control himself enough to think of something better. He barely had to lift a finger -tossing Sarah here and there, and the dominance he established from such a meager amount of effort was much more satisfying than simple brute force. She was working against herself, while he laughed from above her. In truth, he hadn't really been looking forward to this, knowing how horrible it may turn out. But right now, he was having a blast. He genuinely meant it when he said he didn't enjoy hurting her. He would much rather see her smile at him than cringe in pain; but she needed to be taught a lesson. He'd been putting this off for far too long. But as it progressed, he found himself wondering if it had to end badly at all...

He paced around her until her back was to him. She didn't bother trying to move, having finally realized it was pointless to try to struggle out of this one. He stood behind her, not touching her in the slightest, holding her belt in his hands behind his back.

"I want you to walk forward, and place your hands against the wall," he ordered, in a neutral tone. He didn't see her scowl.

"And if I don't?" she asked, and tensed when she heard him step closer. He leaned down to speak in her ear.

"Before we start, I just want you to know...that it is you who has ruined our pleasant streak. If you had just faced your wrongdoings, and accepted your punishment with dignity, I may have spared you," he said, and no sooner grabbed her by the back of her shirt as he pushed her to the spot in question. She yelped in protest, but could do nothing as he took hold of the collar of her shirt once more and ripped it down the center, yanking her this way and that as he tore it from her. She gasped and tried to cover herself, but he was quick to take hold of her arms and pin them to the wall on either side of her face, and then took a step back to watch her struggle.

Sarah grunted and groaned as she tried, unsuccessfully, to free her hands from the wall. She had her back to him, and was thankful she didn't have the added intimidation and disgrace of having to stare at his smug face. He had her down to her bra, but that hadn't quite fazed her yet. When she finally admitted defeat, she stopped her struggling, and tried to tune in to whatever Jareth was doing behind her.

He stepped back towards her once she settled down, standing so close she could feel the ends of his hair tickling her shoulders and the heat from his torso as it radiated against her bare back. She tried not to cringe.

He looked down on her, weighing some pros and cons as well as all his delicious fantasies. He ran a hand down the curve of her waist, and hooked a finger around the band of her pants. She stood, completely motionless. And without a word, he reached around and undid the button at the front and gradually worked her leggings down to her ankles. Sarah thought about kicking him, but knew better -for once. He ran both hands up the sides of her legs as he stood, letting them linger at the lace of her underwear. Of course, today would be the day she decided to wear something a little skimpy. His hands moved down to caress the exposed skin of her rear.

"Lashings are more effective when inflicted on bare skin. There is more of a sting," he informed, still tenderly feeling her up, and gently scrunching the lace further up her backside. Sarah tried, very, very, hard, not to shiver all over. "Now...what was it you called me earlier? An ass?" he said, and wound his arm back to snap the belt clear across her rear. She yelped and jumped into the wall. "And how many times did you use the word shit? Three times, wasn't it?" The next hits came in quick succession. Sarah cried out, her body tensing and trembling, not so much from the pain, but from the anticipation of it. While it hurt like a bitch, she was pretty positive Jareth was using no more than a flick of his wrist. She dreaded what it would feel like if he used full force. He took a step back. "Now, let's recall...how many times did you raise your voice to me in front of that girl?" he asked, and swung his arm a little harder. Sarah let out a scream as the belt bit into her skin, but had no time to compose herself when an even more intense pain hit her again. It seemed he was upping the force with each offense. She tried to wince the sting away, her legs shaking against her will.

Jareth took another step away, looking Sarah's backside up and down as he watched the way she cringed and shivered with after shocks. Red bands were already blooming across her rear, and a part of him wanted to drop to his knees and kiss them all away; another part wanted to turn them purple.

"Then there's the issue of undermining my authority in the presence of others, as well as out right commanding the King in matters which you have no power over. How hard of a crack do you think those offenses deserve?" he asked. Sarah huddled into herself. And then...there was a pause.

"Jareth, I...I'm sorry," she said, her voice fighting hard to restrain a quiver. Jareth's arm, which had been starting to draw back again, hovered in place.

"Excuse me?" he asked, lowering his arm as Sarah's shoulders slowly sagged.

"I...I'm sorry for how I spoke to you. I wasn't trying to disrespect you, I was voicing my opinion. I'd like to think there is a difference. And while I feel that I'm still right, I do understand why you felt so offended. I wasn't thinking about your position, but I know it was wrong to belittle it. And I know, that that could be dangerous around the wrong person. Y-you're right. So I'm sorry." Her body was tense against the wall as she spoke, unsure of what would happen next. She waited, trying her best to focus her ears on any of Jareth's movements. He took a step towards her.

"You wouldn't happen to be saying this in an attempt to get out of the remainder of your punishment, would you?" he asked. Sarah closed her eyes.

"I'm not attempting to do anything. You've got me stuck to a wall, you'll do what ever you want with me. But you told me not to apologize until I meant it, so that's what I'm doing." She was surprised, and proud, with the level of calm resolve in her voice. Her ass hurt like hell, and she thought she would be freaking out about it; he did have her tied up and was whipping her with her own belt after all. But she wasn't. She was actually feeling very...collected. Jareth tossed the belt over the back of the couch.

He moved back towards her, their bodies only an inch apart. She trembled under him, anxious and on edge for his next move. He splayed his hand around her hip, and rose the other to brush her hair off to one side as he leaned in to run his nose along her cheek.

"And you are forgiven," he whispered, his voice full of sudden tenderness. His hand started to spider up her waist, while the one not on her hip petted her hair. "See how easy that was?" he asked, resting his forehead against her temple.

She didn't say anything, but he didn't care. He was simply too busy reveling in the fact that she had finally swallowed her pride. Her apology, any remorse she felt, the way she willingly acknowledged subservience to him..._that_ was more satisfying than any amount of whipping or brandishing. He let his hand move down to lightly caress her rear, secretly glad he hadn't had to bruise such a fine specimen. She flinched at the contact, but remained silent.

"You're taking this much better than last time..." he said, not the least bit bothered with her silence. He had a secret smile on his face.

Sarah's body started to relax, his gentle petting slowly taking effect. She didn't say it, but she couldn't have agreed with him more. She thought back, trying to figure out how and why she wasn't totally losing her shit over the situation. He whipped her. He WHIPPED her. She should be screaming and clawing her way at him; but she wasn't. She was totally calm. She'd been so touchy all day, had been so looking forward to this fight- wait. Was that it? She had been looking forward to this? ...She was, wasn't she? She'd told herself outright that she was looking forward to it...why? What the fuck was wrong with her? It wasn't that she enjoyed fighting with him, and there was no way she enjoyed being beaten by him, but there was just something...peculiar...about these moments that gave her a great deal of satisfaction. She'd told herself it was merely the result of releasing stress...but it seemed to be more than that. She knew it was something more than that. Something very dangerous was happening to her, and she didn't like it one bit. She tuned back in to the moment to find his hands slowly roaming all over her body.

"Are you going to keep whipping me?" she asked.

"Do you acknowledge my position as both your King and your husband? As well as the graciousness and compassion I have shown you, when you so clearly deserve otherwise?" he countered. Sarah closed her eyes again.

"Yes," she said, that one word twisting the knife that had been plunged into the cold heart of Sarah's pride. Jareth's smile curled.

"Then no," he said, and tenderly kissed her temple.

The ease and relief that swept through Sarah just then could not be accurately described. Her entire body shifted, and she let out a sigh, fear and trepidation leaving her in one foul swoop -though, she tried her best to keep this reaction as minuscule as possible. She kept her eyes closed, letting herself sink into that moment of relaxation as Jareth continued to plant subtle kisses against her temple. His hand moved back down to her rear, his caressing becoming a little more forceful. Sarah flinched away reflexively and grimaced.

"Does it hurt?" he asked, not bothering to cease his movements. Sarah pressed herself against the wall, vying for some magical escape. God her skin was tender. His fingers felt like molten iron against the reddened flesh. He took the involuntary shiver that coursed through her as a yes. "Good," he murmured, and angled his head lower to kiss the back of her jaw. As his hands moved, the tips of his fingers found their way under the rim of her underwear, stealthily coaxing their way to more bare skin. There was an ease and fluidity to his movements. She felt herself start to sag against the wall.

Jareth's hand tightened in her hair as he gradually kissed his way down the side of her neck. She hadn't said a word, nor made a single sound. The moment was timeless, and he couldn't help but notice that the more he touched her, the more her muscles un-tensed against his lips. He gripped her hip once his lips found her shoulder.

For a moment, Sarah thought she was floating off somewhere in limbo. Her nerves were no longer pining away at her body and mind, and she just felt...so relaxed. For that split second, she wasn't thinking. Wasn't thinking that she was still chained to a wall. Wasn't thinking that it were Jareth's lips that were desensitizing her tingling flesh. Wasn't thinking that it was his hand inching closer to her groin. She rested her face against the wall and sighed, almost willing to ignore the world for just one more minute...

  



	51. The Right Words, part 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While unbeknown to her, Sarah has succeeded in obtaining the one thing the Goblin King has desired for hundreds of years -power over the Labyrinth. After being hidden for years from his diabolical wrath, Sarah finds herself alone and vulnerable as Jareth's dark desires are finally aloud to rear their ugly heads. As always, the only question is, are things really as they seem?

Her body swayed when his fingers brushed against her cleft.

"Jareth..." she said, in discomfort. She scowled and shook her head to herself, forcing out the daze, then started fidgeting against him and tried pulling her hands from the wall. Jareth carried on as if uninterrupted.

"Shh..." he whispered, repeating his trail back up her neck. Sarah scowled harder.

"No...stop," she said, using her back to push against him. His hand moved to hold her hip.

"Why?" he asked.

"Because...just because, ok?" He nipped on her ear.

"You should have seen how relaxed you were just now. You think too much, when all you need to do is feel..."

"Jareth- I'm really not in the mood-"

"Oh yes you are," he interrupted, the hand in her hair skillfully moving to massage her scalp. What he wouldn't do for her to just relax...

"No-"

"I can smell you, Sarah. You like what I'm doing, and I think you'd like for me to do it a little more." He pulled on her hip slightly, urging her back against his torso. She tried to hug the wall.

"You're crazy... You think I'm all hot n' bothered after what you just did to me?" she asked, disappointed with the skepticism she heard in her own voice. He lowered his head toward hers, the hand in her hair effortlessly turning her face toward him.

"I don't think. I know," he said, and lightly kissed her lips. He held her there for a moment or two, before slowly coaxing his way into her mouth. His kiss was as tender as the rest of his touch, filled with all kinds of haze and sweetness, and other worrying things. He was so close to her. His proximity created a surprising bubble of intimacy that almost made her forget what had happened to put her in this position in the first place. "Kiss me," he ordered, or asked, or pleaded, she didn't know. She pursed her lips and shied away.

"You're really going to try to seduce me after whipping me with a belt?" she asked.

"I told you, when you miss behave you will be reprimanded and then we will move on. This is me...moving on...not to mention that this was a part of tonight's game after all...and you did lose..." She turned her head away from him and recoiled into herself.

"Jareth-no -that's not-"

"Not what? I told you to focus on controlling your anger. It's not my fault you chose to ignore me."

Sarah pulled her legs together in the effort to squirm his hand away from her.

"Jareth...This is messed up. I'm really not in the mood to play your game right now." He kissed her shoulder, and shifted himself to press against her.

"Who's playing?" he asked, and kissed her again. Sarah was about to push against him, when, out of nowhere, he used his body to shove her back into the wall. She gasped and tried to straighten herself up.

"Jareth? What the-" she started, wincing as she tried to push him away again. His hand went from her hair to her shoulder, and shoved her a second time.

"You're still too stubborn to admit you like this. Fine, you're not in the mood? Let's put you in it," he said, and pushed her harder when she tried to straighten herself up.

"Stop shoving me!" she growled.

"Why? You can't let yourself moan if it's not in a controlled setting, is that it? Well, tonight was about narrowing in on that anger of yours. So come on. I tried being nice and it wasn't good enough for you," he said, and slammed himself against her, knocking all the wind out of her with a solid _ooph_. He held her face pressed against the wall as his free hand tore through the lace of her underwear. She started squirming against him.

"Jareth! Stop it! You said-"

"I said I would end your lashing. I said nothing about your losing tonight's round. And from the sorry bout you've given me tonight, I'd say we'll be focusing on your anger for many nights to come," he said, reaching out and grabbing her hands to pull her from the wall and whip her around to face him. "Are you getting frustrated yet?" he asked, with a wicked gleam, and shoved her full force against the wall. She made a noise caught somewhere between a cough and a gasp, thoroughly annoyed with his punkish antics, and glared up at him.

"Oh, we're back to shoving now? Is that it? You're so original," she snarled, unwittingly giving Jareth everything he'd just asked for. With her arms now freed, she tried pushing against him and make a run for it. He captured her fists as they hit his chest, and rose them high above her head. He locked them in place, and languidly ran his hands down her arms until he held her ribcage. He leaned in and smelled her.

"...Look at you...all riled up. You like this, don't you?" he asked. Sarah tried to keep her eyes from darting away, and fought away the uncertainly that flooded her when a smile started to curl the ends of his lips. "You do. You like it when I treat you like this." Sarah scowled, hard.

"No. I don't."

"Oh yes, you do. I see you my sweet. For all your grumbling, all your screaming and thrashing, you _like_ this. You_ like_ when I do this," he said, and rose his hands to knead her breasts. Sarah tried not to arch her back. "Hmhmhm...Your body can't lie to me. Admit it. You like us like this. You like making me the bad guy. You like the fight. You like the energy of it." He pulled at the straps of her bra then, snapping them to hang wantonly at her sides. "But...what I think you like most of all," he began to say, inching his wry lips close to hers. His eyes were hooded, but she was still able to catch the twinkle of mischief he tried, not so hard, to conceal. "-is that the fight and the anger and the restraints, are the only things keeping that naive conscience of yours clean. But let me explain something to you: _your conscience_ is just as dirty and guilt-ridden as mine and everyone else's."

She had enough time to look disgruntled before his hands were in her hair, pulling her face to his. And again it seemed Jareth was kissing her menacingly. She wondered how this kept happening and how to stop it. He grabbed her hip and slammed it into the wall, swallowing her whimper without care. He bent at the knees, and grasped her at the base of her thigh, lifting her leg up to hook around his hip. Her body struggled against him, so he kept his fingers curled into the meaty flesh of her thigh, keeping her in place and struggling for balance. He started to grind against her, his free hand groping and clawing at the rest of her.

Well, this was certainly different. Never had Jareth's approach to _The Game_, been so carnal and intimate. While the things he did to her were up close and personal, he always had an air of control and conviction that separated him from the equation. It was this major factor that helped Sarah endure his debauchery in the first place. But _this_ -he had never done _this_ to her. The only other instance she could equate it to was the very first time he'd kissed her: when he'd thrown her to the floor of the throne room and lost his head... This worried her for various reasons, but she was too caught up in the moment to take any proper course of action. In fact...if she didn't know any better, she might say she was actually kissing him back...

"Your aroma is the most delicious I have ever smelled," he murmured between bites and licks. Sarah winced and whimpered -the hand keeping her leg suspended was clawing at her rear. "Arousal, anger, fear, each is more intoxicating than the next. And each one is mine." She tore her head away and swallowed hard, Jareth resided to bite her neck. She moaned when a precisely applied thrust hit her core perfectly. Jareth's face was in her neck when he said, "I could be inside you so easily right now, filling you and pushing you higher and higher up this wall with each thrust...I know you imagine it. I know you imagine what it feels like..." he said, using his thigh to grind against her cleft. Sarah fought to remain in control. "Think of the way you feel with my hands and mouth on you, inside you. Now imagine that feeling times ten."

"I know what you're trying to do. And it's not going to work," she said, keeping her eyes closed as she not-so-secretly focused on the pressure of his thigh in her groin and his hand on her ass. He left hot kisses leading all the way to her bosom.

"And what is that exactly? Because just you thinking it means it's working," he said, his voice vibrating her skin as he ran his tongue between her breasts. Sarah gulped again.

See...this was a problem. This was what the passed few days of indulging had done to her. She gave in so easily now. She'd had a taste of the wonders he could spin her body into, and wanted more. But he was right when he said she only liked it when in a controlled setting. When they were playing _The Game_, she could pretend it was all strictly business. And he was right that that was what kept her shame away. When they weren't engaged in _lessons_, she wanted no part of him. But right now, they were caught in some manner of crosshair. He said this was part of the game, but...it wasn't. It didn't feel the same...

"I know you're holding back. You're always holding back," Jareth continued to murmur into her. Sarah jerked on her magical cuffs.

"And what about you? You're not bothered by having to endure _absolutely nothing_ night after night?" she asked, just to get a word in. Jareth smiled against her skin.

"I take my satisfaction by knowing it is I who gives you yours," he said, and brought himself back at eye-level with her. "But you are wrong, in that I am in fact _very_ bothered by it." And with that, did he replace his thigh to thrust up against her with his pelvis, and she almost groaned at feeling how hard his erection was against her clit. He caught this reaction from her, and continued the rhythm of pressing her into the wall, rolling his hips with as much skill as there was promise. She closed her eyes briefly in a vain attempt to ignore the pleasure and sudden heat that shot straight through her core.

"Jareth-enough. I don't want to do this," she said, knowing very well where he intended all of this to go; though, it didn't seem he was to be deterred.

"You say that, but I have a feeling you'd be howling in ecstasy if I were to have my way with you right here and now."

Her eyes shot open at the bawdy drawl in his voice.

"Jareth-stop. Don't. I don't want-"

He pulled away to look up at her.

"I'm not going to," he said, putting Sarah at ease, until he kept on talking that is. "-but don't be fooled, it's not because you say no," he continued. "I'm not going to ask you. And I'm not going to force you. I don't have to, because sooner rather than later you're going to lay down and give it to me."

Sarah scowled at the unshakable certainty in his voice.

"You keep saying that, and it only makes me want to less. What makes you so sure that after everything you've done I'm going just roll over and beg for you to take me?" she asked. He gave her his wicked smile, and ran his hands up and down her sides.

"Because you_ like _the misery," he said. Sarah drew her brow on him. "You love the struggle, and you love the anger. You love it when I force my hand because it makes it all the easier for you to keep fighting back. You enjoy feeling as though you are in pain and turmoil, because playing the victim is the only way to keep yourself from loving me."

"W-what?" she asked, blanching at the sucker-punch of stupefaction that hit her square in the face. Jareth didn't seem to catch on to what had horrified her so.

"Admit it. You like what I did to you just now. You like it when I play the villain, because it makes hating this place is so much easier that way. You need the distraction of your anger, because deep down you're terrified that I might not actually be the horrible monster you want me to be. But the only one judging you here, is you, Sarah. One day, you'll finally realize how pointless that is. And that will be the day you own up to the truth that it is the harshness of reality you love and not some ridiculous fantasy."

Sarah waited until she was sure he'd finished, keeping her eyes locked with his, and puffed up her chest in the effort to ignore the massive bombshell that had just gone off between them.

"You know something Jareth? You're wrong. You're wrong because I don't hate this place. This world is beautiful and magical and wonderful and limitless. I could never hate it. You're wrong because I'm not afraid that you might not be a monster, I'm afraid that you actually are. And you're wrong because it has nothing to do with my anger. If you weren't so self-centered, you'd see that the only thing keeping me from loving you, is _you_." She kept her glare vicious as she stared at him, their eyes only inches apart. Sarah's breathing had started to escalate, her heart beating furiously against her chest. It seemed their tension was quickly approaching its climax, and she feared what would happen if it boiled over. Jareth moved in even closer.

"Saying the right words can get you so far. But even the right words, when said at the wrong time, can lead you to a mile of misery. For that reason alone, would I tell you I love you. And for that reason alone, I could never do so. But I will take your misery and your anger, because that is the only love that you will give me. I will take it, and you will love for me to do so, over and over again."

Sarah gaped at everything he'd said, blindsided by his boldness and shocked by his vocabulary. She thought and she thought over his entire proclamation; but this time, she found herself with nothing to say, knowing deep down that once again, despite everything that told her otherwise, he was absolutely right.

"So, before the mood becomes too sober, let's find a way to get you angry again, shall we?" he asked, perking up and distracting her from the bottomless pit of controversy his words had just hauled off and thrown her into. She was too stunned to stop him when he clawed his hands around her face, and kissed her with all he had.

* * *

**A/N - So, this took a little longer than planned; but I've been rather ambitious lately -working on a few side projects here and there that have started taking priority over my free time. I know that technically it was OD&BT's turn for an update, and for those holding out for that, I've been writing it alongside this and am a good chunk into it; so hopefully it won't be too much longer. I hope you enjoyed this installment, and as a bonus (one of my side projects) I've made up a map of what I envision the Underground world to look like -if any of you are interested in seeing my version of the map to help better visualize what the fuck Sarah was trying to describe in the beginning of the chapter- you can find it on my DeviantArt page at,**

**FangamerBowiextreme DOT deviantart DOT com**

**if you're at all interested. Once again, thanks for reading. Hearing your feedback is what motivates me to keep updating. Until next time,**

**=) -FGBX**

****   



	52. The Road To Nowhere

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While unbeknown to her, Sarah has succeeded in obtaining the one thing the Goblin King has desired for hundreds of years -power over the Labyrinth. After being hidden for years from his diabolical wrath, Sarah finds herself alone and vulnerable as Jareth's dark desires are finally aloud to rear their ugly heads. As always, the only question is, are things really as they seem?

Chapter 13, The Road To Nowhere

Her hair was in a tangle, already starting to curl and frizz from the morning's humidity. She had lips that pouted because they were too pale for her face, and big round eyes that drooped down at the corners with aversion. She sighed and pushed the wet tangles away from her face. The tan she'd worked so hard on getting was already starting to fade, but left behind a light sprinkle of freckles across her nose. They looked out of place against her complexion, simply muddying her pale skin rather than accenting it the way they did Becky's. Surprisingly, the memory annoyed her. She made a nasty face at the mirror and stepped away to finish buttoning up her vest.

As Sarah stood before the bathroom mirror, running her hands down her waist, trying to smooth it to her contours and consistently frowning at the site that met her, she wondered why, all of the sudden, she was so conscious about her appearance. She turned to the side and stood on her tip toes, still trying to pat down the excessive fluffiness of her shirt, and tried to compliment herself by thinking that the round curve of her backside was indeed perky and therefore good. She pulled on a strap at the back of her vest, tightening it closer to her hips. She thought to walk away then, but once again found herself deadlocked with her sorry reflection in the mirror. She just seemed so..._rough_this morning. It was strange, she'd never cared about her looks before; but this morning something about her awkward portrait was nothing less than off putting.

She ran her fingers through her hair, pulling out all the tangles, and turned her head from side to side as she thought of what to do with it. Hm, up or down? Those were her two major options. She still didn't have a hair dryer, and simply refused to use any of the trinkets and products at her disposal. She didn't want it to seem like she was "trying" after all. No, something simple. Just something to change it up. She drew her bangs into a thick tendril and made it into a braid at the side of her face. There, that was better.

She glanced down, resentfully eyeing all the wonderful cosmetics that had yet to be touched. Oh, how badly she missed eyeliner...some mascara, maybe a little bit of eye shadow... She pursed her lips at it and looked away. No, there was no way she could do that. Jareth would have a fit. Well, maybe not a fit per say, but...he would definitely cause a scene over it. It was sad, that she couldn't even bring herself to wear make-up simply because of the overreaction it would earn from her psychotic captor/fiance'. Meanwhile, she tried to convince herself that it most definitely was not said bipolar madman that had manipulated her insecurities to betray her so slyly. With one last frown she stepped away from the mirror and tried her best to leave all her doubts trapped within it. She practiced putting on her smile as she reached for the door. What a wonderful way to start the day.

* * *

Jareth was rummaging through her bookcase when she reentered the room. And she wanted to growl at the way he wouldn't turn to acknowledge her until _she_ approached_ him_. She kept a comfortable five-foot radius and leaned against a wall until he felt like looking over to her. He slid whatever it was he was looking at back into its niche and took a step back. She was already expecting the beam and raise of his brow that came once his eyes found her. He tilted his head and rose a hand to her cheek.

"Well, don't you look pretty today," he said, full of his usual morning cheer. Sarah snarled.

"Isn't it time you were off? I'm sure there are plenty of other places where you should be." She swatted his hand away and stalked off.

It would have been an understatement to say that Sarah had very little tolerance for Jareth's company on what was otherwise a very fine morning. After all the despicable things he'd coerced her into the night before, she had been very heavily contemplating striking some kind of bargain just so she wouldn't have to face him the next day. Of course, that didn't happen. That didn't happen because Sarah was nearly too riled to successfully get him out of her room let alone worry about any future encounters -a fear of which, as she had come to find quite early on, was very much a legitimate one. Of course a night like the last would boost his already over-burgeoning ego, and of course he was nothing less than totally smug to be holding that not so little victory over her head until she threatened to burn the house down. He came at her quite early this morning, and it seemed to her that he was poking at her more than usual. It was barely passed eight, and already he had her seething. It wasn't hard of course. In fact, that was part of the problem. It was just all too easy for him to get under her skin. For being someone so old and wise, Jareth was very good at behaving like an annoying, punkish little five-year-old. And he said she had maturity issues. But alas, that was the point was it not? Jareth had decreed she work on controlling her anger, and so it seemed at some point within the night he had decided that become a twenty-four-seven affair. Well, _he_ was certainly off to a brilliant start. But what he didn't realize, and what Sarah was quickly nearing to scream at him, was that all this so-called objective, clinical, strictly-business badgering, to her, was anything but cordial. Maybe she was still just a little over-emotional from her period. Maybe she was just being soft. Or maybe she was completely justified; but regardless of the reason, it had barely been an hour and already Sarah found she was taking each and every one of Jareth's goadings to heart. If he wanted her angry, then he was sure to be astonishingly flabbergasted before the day's end. She continued to stomp away from him.

"I will always make time for you, dearest," he called after her, not having a single care in the world as he watched with eagerness the sway of her hips and she walked away from him. He didn't bother trying to hide this indiscretion when she turned around and glared. His grin curled at her. She scoffed at it and threw herself in a chair.

"I would like it very much if you would leave now," she pouted, crossing her arms n' all. Jareth grinned and moved to kneel down in front of her, resting his forearms on the arms of her hair, caging her in. She didn't so much as tense.

"Now...I don't think that's completely true," he said, nonchalantly plucking at the stretchy spandex of her pants. Sarah pouted harder. "It's still quite early you know," he said, slowly, oh-so-slowly, inching his way over her. Sarah kept her back straight.

"Early for what exactly?" she asked, not having the will to bother trying to deflect from where he so obviously intended this to go.

"You want me to leave, but I think we'd both do just as well if you came instead."

"Um, wow. Could you get any cheesier?" she asked, shaking her head and rolling her eyes to the ceiling. She was lucky she found his comment so ridiculous, or she may have been worried. Jareth leaned in.

"Probably, yes. Are we in agreement then?" he asked. Sarah shot him an eye and froze. When did he get so close?

"No. We're not. Get off Jareth-"

"Yes, I suppose that works too. Come now, I won't tell if you don't," he said, with a smile that was way too close to hers. She had to laugh, just from the sheer absurdity of it. Oh boy, it was way too early to be dealing with this.

"Oh, God, you've got to be kidding me. Let me up," she demanded, and started pushing against him as she made way to stand. For some reason, she was surprised when he pushed her back down.

"No, I don't think I will," he said, his hands gripping the arms of the chair like claws. Sarah refolded her arms across her chest.

"Why not?" she asked, and then proceeded to squirm away from him any way she could when that conniving smile of his came after her. "Okay, seriously. At this rate you're going to make me late for my lessons," she said, using one of her hands as a shield from his face. He smiled at her efforts.

"I'll write you a note," he retorted, and shifted over passed her hand. Sarah glanced down and with a split second's decision, slithered down under his arm and shot out from her spot in the chair. He turned and stood, highly amused, and watched her as she gathered herself a good distance away. "Hmm, cunning and agile. You're getting better," he said, and quite effectively had Sarah wondering what the hell he was talking about. He took his time making his way to her, knowing that she was now too confident to bother running away. He mimicked her stance of hands-on-hips once he stood directly before her. "Are you sure you want me to leave?" he asked, cheekily. Sarah made a gruffing sound.

"Would you like me to write it down for you?" she asked, sarcastically. Jareth tisked her on the nose.

"Ah ah, not getting testy again, are we?" he teased, looking down his nose at her with a chipperness in his eye that only proved his words more true. Sarah narrowed her eyes up at him.

"Ya know, maybe this whole anger management thing is good after all. It might stop me from trying to murder you in your sleep one night," she said, both sure and unsure of how much truth there really was in those words, and also tried to ignore the hum of oddness that hovered in the atmosphere with the triviality of their squabbling. Apparently, from the way his face lit up in that instant, Jareth found her threat hilarious.

"Only one? Oh, what I wouldn't do to wake up to you looming over me in the dark," he said. She scowled at the way he brushed off her threat. It seemed no matter what she said, nor how angry she got, he simply refused to take her seriously today. While it lessened the worry of physical threat and retaliation, it was annoying as fuck.

"Is there a reason why you're acting so chipper?"

"Yes, actually."

"Well, could you please go do it somewhere else? As much as I enjoy your company I actually have things to do as well," she said. Jareth's smirk cracked a little further. He leaned in and ran a finger down her braid.

"Alright," he said. Sarah blinked.

"Alright?" she repeated, in minor disbelief, ignoring the fact that his finger then moved to trace her jaw.

"Yes," he answered, flicking his finger under her chin. Sarah watched his strange behavior in bemusement.

"Just like that?" she probed further.

"Apparently."

"Why?" she asked, not being able to help her suspicious nature. He bent down towards her and raked his eyes all over her. She knew from that stare alone that his next words were to be total bullshit.

"I like it when you're spunky in the morning," he said. Her eyes rolled with boredom.

"I'm not spunky, I'm not just not in the mood to deal with you," she countered, dead set on remaining as catty as possible. His eyes became sharper.

"Perhaps not, but you are in fact in the mood to be dealt with," he said, and took a step towards her. Then another, and another, until he had her backed up into a wall. He placed his hands on the wall on either side of her and leaned down until he was at eye-level. "I look forward to tonight. And tomorrow. And the night after that. And every night to come." She cringed when he pressed his body up against hers. "Do try not to think about it. About the way it feels to have my hands all over you, or my mouth inside you. Try not to think about how much you're going to pretend not to want it and how much you secretly do-"

"I don't," she snapped, snarling her teeth at him as she glared. "Just because my body reacts a certain way doesn't mean I actually want it." Jareth's expression became haughty.

"You think I don't know that?" he asked. Sarah was quiet. "Do you think I would for one moment be speaking this way if it weren't true?" Sarah opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came. "I know the difference between a body betraying the mind, and the mind trying to betray the body, Sarah. You think you're a victim of my exploits, but that is merely because I haven't yet had use to call you out on your lie." Sarah glared and shoved at him before she had time to think.

"Alright, see, right there. That's the petty arrogance that makes me want to gag. You think you're so right about everything and you're not. Get away, I'm sick of you mauling me," she said and groaned in frustration as she pushed her way out of his hold. He grabbed the back of her vest and pulled her off her feet and into his arms.

"There's my girl -all riled and ready to rip my head off. I recommend working on that anger management of yours in my absence," he said, whispering into her ear as he held her captive up against his chest. She recoiled into herself when he turned his head and gave her a hard kiss on her temple. "You're going to need it," he added on, and then he was gone.

  



	53. The Road To Nowhere, part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While unbeknown to her, Sarah has succeeded in obtaining the one thing the Goblin King has desired for hundreds of years -power over the Labyrinth. After being hidden for years from his diabolical wrath, Sarah finds herself alone and vulnerable as Jareth's dark desires are finally aloud to rear their ugly heads. As always, the only question is, are things really as they seem?

Sarah paced about her room, still ranting and raving to herself all the reasons why she couldn't stand Jareth. She hated when he acted like that. Why was he so damn cheery? His cheekiness was the most annoying thing she'd ever had to endure. And while she'd much rather deal with him being "playful" than dark and dangerous, she'd rather he just keep his mouth shut all together.

She stalked over to the window, haphazardly hoping that something about the scenery might help sooth her. It was bright out this morning, and the sun was just starting to warm the land. It made the air crisp and refreshing, a welcome coolant for her hot head. She took a deep breath and looked out over the world.

She could only see a fraction of the Labyrinth from where she stood, the rest of her view was of a forest. She wondered if it was the same forest where she'd run into the Fieries. She watched the way the paths of the maze miraculously shifted and changed seamlessly. She shook her head at it. As if navigating a nearly limitless maze wasn't hard enough, it had to go and change itself every five minutes. How in the world did she ever solve it? She scowled then. _Oh yea, that's right, I had Jareth "helping" me_, she grumbled and slouched against the windowsill.

As the breeze brushed against her face and the chirping of newly awakened creatures began to hum their merry tune, Sarah again wondered where in the world Liana had disappeared to. How many days had it been? Where was she? Was she okay? She frowned and looked downwards, then moved to lean a little further out the window when her eyes caught on something.

She saw something...something scurrying about the Labyrinth. Whatever it was, it had to be big for her to even catch a glimpse of it. She narrowed her eyes on it and focused as best she could. It was..some kind of beast. For a moment, her excitement pretended it was Ludo; but of course, it wasn't. This creature was dark colored and was moving very quickly. She didn't think Ludo even had the ability to run. She looked around the maze, trying to figure out what it was running from, and saw a bunch of tiny little dots that she assumed were Jareth's guards scouring the land. This scene seemed too familiar to her, and she really didn't like it. She scowled at it, hoping that somehow the creature could escape to safety. She saw the guards narrow into one lane, about to close in on the poor beast, and she wished with all her heart that a wall would spontaneously appear and secure the creature's getaway. And although she wished it, she wasn't quite ready when that actually happened.

A wall emerged. And all the little guards went a tumbling one after another face first into it. The beast paused to look back, and then ran off into the forest, safe and secure. Sarah tilted her head and narrowed her eyes further as she watched this happen. _Did that really just happen? What in the...?_ She began to wonder how and why a wall had shot up the moment she wished one to, but was distracted from it at the sound of the door creaking open behind her. She turned and saw Mariella timidly poking her head into the room.

"Oh, please excuse me, Lady Sarah...I tried knocking several times, but there was no answer," she said, surreptitiously stepping around the door and then shutting it quietly behind her. Sarah moved away from the window.

"Oh- uhm- I'm sorry. I guess I was distracted. Please, come in," she said. Mariella lowered her head a bit.

"There is no need. I am the one who must apologize for my punctuality. I was not sure at what time I was to report to you."

Sarah closed her eyes and raised her brow exasperatedly, and took a seat in a chair.

"Yea well, seeing how rudely Jareth dismissed you yesterday, I'd say that's quite alright," she said, kicking her feet up on the coffee table. "You can sit if you want," she added on, watching with concern the way Mariella kept her head low as she moved to sit on the edge of the couch, and then drew her brow with the look she received once she finally looked up.

Upon entering the room, Mariella had purposefully kept her eyes away from her Queen, not wanting to offend her with the reaction she might not be able to suppress at seeing whatever Jareth had done to her the previous night. When she did look up, she expected lashes and bruises, and was therefore completely shocked to find her looking to be in even better condition than she had the night before. Her mouth dropped open as her eyes flickered all over her, not yet registering the weirded out look of concern Sarah was giving her in return.

"Um, is everything alright?" Sarah asked. Mariella blinked and opened her mouth a little further. She looked...disconcerted.

"Uh, yes, yes. It's just...you look...radiant, my lady," she said. Sarah scowled.

"Let me guess, you're surprised I'm not a shriveled heap on the floor?" Sarah asked, her look of concern dissolving into something tiresome.

"Sarah, forgive me, I did not mean-"

"Please, stop apologizing," she said. Mariella straightened up some at the level of impatience she heard in Sarah's voice.

"Yes...but may I ask?"

"Why Jareth didn't beat me senseless? Don't you find it a little sad that you think he would have in the first place?" Sarah countered. Mariella kept her mouth shut. It seemed tensions were already running high this morning. Sarah watched Mariella squirm before her, and let out a sigh. "It's stupid that physical punishments are considered the norm here. But I'm not from here, and I refuse to be treated that way," she said, fully aware of the haughtiness she exuded, and knew it was only because Jareth was no longer any where in sight. Mariella looked down into her lap.

"My, Sarah, His Majesty must truly treasure you, to leave you so unsullied," she said, causing Sarah to momentarily stiffen from the alternate meaning she took from those words. She chose to ignore it.

"I'm afraid I'll have to disagree with all of that." Mariella's head shot up.

"But- look at you. The level of disrespect you showed him last evening was...worrisome. For him to leave you unscathed was an act of great mercy."

"Oh, I assure you, he made his point just the same," Sarah scoffed, with a wave of the hand and a dismissive eye. She really hoped she could work Mariella out of this whole _I'm terrified because you deserve to be beaten_ thing real soon. Meanwhile, Mariella continued to look on like she had a foul taste in her mouth.

"Very well. It is not my place to question the manner of the King's discipline. It is all just...very unorthodox. But, as you yourself have said, you are not from here, and therefore perhaps it is simply I who need adjust," she said.

Sarah blinked, relieved and mildly suspicious of how smoothly the issue had been settled. _Well...that was easy_, she thought; _who'da thunk a Fae could be so amenable?_ Perhaps Mariella was true in her curiosity?...which would mean her perspectives were at more liberty to sway...hmm, good. In that moment, Sarah had never been more thankful to Davion for choosing Mariella over all the others he could have sent. Perhaps this would make things easier after dealing with the unwavering self-righteous stubbornness of Jareth and his other cohorts. As Sarah marveled in her strange little epiphany, she looked around and saw Mariella's look of abhorred concern still hadn't lessened any.

"So, um...are you hungry? I opted to skip breakfast this morning...didn't really have the stomach for it. But I'm feeling kinda hungry now." Mariella had the decency to look distracted by Sarah's offer.

"If that is thy wish. Shall I assist you in dressing before we embark on to the dining hall?" she asked. Sarah gave her an eye.

"Um...I figured we would just eat here. I have to go see Roldan in a little bit anyway...and, change? Why would I need to change?" Sarah asked. Mariella tilted her head curiously.

"You do not dine with His Majesty in the feasting hall?" she asked. Sarah's strange expression continued to twist.

"Um...no? I didn't know that was a thing," she said, half recalling the time Roldan had brought up that very same issue. Mariella pursed her lips.

"Well, of course. It should be given that His Majesty's court gathers to feast." Sarah started to fidget in her chair.

"Well...seeing how Jareth doesn't seem to have a court -aside from the Goblins, and I don't really think he or Roldan would want to dine with them- it would kind of make sense that no one congregates down to that dusty old hall for meals," Sarah explained. Mariella glanced down, as if deep in thought. Sarah didn't see what about that needed extensive pondering.

"I see. Then where, might I ask, do you, His Majesty and Master Roldan dine?"

"Um...I don't know where Roldan eats. I've never really thought about it. But...Jareth usually comes in here to eat with me." And just as Roldan's had before, Mariella's eyes grew wide.

"Really? You dine in here? Alone?" she asked, sounding so astonished and excited and giddy. Sarah recoiled further, not sure what exactly was so stimulating about this conversation.

"Um...yeah?" she half-asked. Mariella bit her lip in order to suppress her gleeful little smile.

"Oh my," she murmured, effectively drawing in Sarah's curiosity.

"Why? Is that a big deal or something?"

"...Perhaps not; but such isolation and, well, consideration is a great act of intimacy amongst our kind," she said. Sarah nearly snarled and rolled her eyes.

"Seriously? Oh, of course it is. Ugh...the social quirks of this place just keep piling up," Sarah murmured to herself, now disgruntled for reasons she wasn't quite sure of. One thing she was sure of however, was that where she was from there was no deeper significance to eating meals together. None at all. And therefore, she refused to acknowledge Mariella's claim. She was about to become distracted when Mariella piped up again.

"So...are you to say you refused the King's offer to dine together this morning? He has already been to you?" she asked.

"Yes," Sarah answered, not bothering to specify. Mariella looked down again.

"I see...Pardon, but that is another concern which I seek clarification on," she said. Sarah cocked and eyebrow. "May I ask which room His Majesty chooses to frequent?" she asked. Sarah narrowed her eyes.

"What do you mean frequent?" she countered, slowly.

"I merely wish to inquire as to which chamber His Majesty prefers to convene in so that I may be more aware, or wary I should say, upon my arrivals each morning and ergo what time I should be expected to come and tidy you up without causing intrusion." Sarah stared at her like she were speaking in tongues.

"-What?" she asked, blatantly. Mariella fidgeted and looked up to the ceiling.

"Ah, forgive me, I am attempting to speak around myself to be less crude. Pardon my frankness, but, does His Majesty prefer to bed you in his chambers or yours? And more importantly, at what time should I be expected to report to you without causing any interference?"

Sarah coughed, nearly choking on the hiccup of surprise that stole the breath from her lungs, and noticeably twitched in her seat. Her eyes widened, her face paled, before blushing violently that is. Her eyes darted every which way, but Mariella didn't understand what had warranted such a reaction. She was merely trying to be polite with her wording. She leaned in when it seemed Sarah was on the verge of a meltdown.

"Sarah-"

"Excuse me? Bed me? Is that what you said? I'm sorry but Jareth doesn't _bed_ me anywhere!" she screeched, snarling viciously at nothing. Mariella gave her a worrying eye.

"No?" she inquired.

"No!" Sarah shot back; and the amount of seething coming from her had Mariella worrying greatly.

"But- I don't understand-"

"What's not to understand? And what do you mean _where does he prefer_? What kind of question is that! I'm not some bitch that waits ass up until he feels like stopping by!" she exclaimed. Mariella gasped and brought a hand to cover her mouth. _Oh! How vulgar!_

"My Lady, forgive me, I did not mean to imply-"

"Imply what? That I'm just some blind receptacle for Jareth's God forsaken legacy? But that's my job right? It's my duty as his wife to lay there and bear his spawn. That's what you were implying, wasn't it?" Sarah's broiling state had her nearly foaming at the mouth, a display of which had Mariella frowning in sympathy. "Well let me tell you something, I refuse to play that role. I am not a vessel for _his_ convenience. He doesn't frequent either room because he doesn't frequent me at all!" Sarah proclaimed, only fibbing slightly, and finding it rather difficult to maintain her rage at the way Mariella continued to frown at her as if not saddened, but instead merely confused by her words. Given that, Sarah nearly lost all of her fire after the small tangent Mariella took next.

"Are you to say that His Majesty has not yet lain with you?" she asked. Sarah froze mid-seethe, before shrugging it all away.

"What? N-no. I may have been a part of his stupid conquest but I still have a right to my own body -for another few weeks at least."

"You have not yet been claimed?" Mariella reiterated, speaking more to herself than Sarah this time. Sarah crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes.

"No. And why do I get the feeling you find that deeply unsettling?" Sarah asked. Mariella pursed her lips with thought, before looking back up to Sarah.

"I just never would have thought...His Majesty to be such a traditionalist," she said. Sarah's glare evolved into a scowl.

"Hmph, traditionalist my ass."

"Oh, but tradition indeed. After hearing of His Majesty's reputation, one would never have thought he to so willingly abide by true ritual. Though, after our encounter upon my arrival, it should not surprise me."

"If you're talking about holding off until the wedding night, I can tell you you're wrong about that too," Sarah interrupted. Mariella perked up.

"Excuse me?" she asked. Sarah sank lower into her chair.

"Jareth isn't being a traditionalist Marie, he's just being cocky," she said and rolled her eyes when Mariella didn't seem to understand. She sat up a little bit, and sighed. "The reason Jareth hasn't forced himself on me is because he thinks that he can seduce me to the point of giving it up all on my own. He wants _me_ to come crawling to _him_. And he doesn't care how long it takes because he's just so sure that he'll win regardless. It's just one big effing game to him. _Pffff_, ridiculous is what it is. Traditionalist...God damned miscreant is more like it."

Mariella watched as Sarah grumbled to herself, bemused and befuddled for about the tenth time in only one night. Was this real? Was she really privy to a situation such as this? Never had she even heard of such a thing. The claiming of one's mate was not secure without copulation. And while it was indeed tradition to bound one's self in their entirety upon the wedding night, she had very rarely heard of an instance where that had actually been the case. And even still, the King of Goblins was flaunting such a crucial step in the mating ritual as a mere game? Surely, it could not be so trivial. While she had heard much of the cunning and devious nature of her Lord Davion's elder brother, she never thought it would be so flippant. Was he really toying with the poor girl? Could that be the core of this strange happening? Was this human's aversion really such strong entertainment to the Goblin King as to cause an infatuation? Then this really would be something of a game between them. She knew of Davion's devilry, but could his brother really be so callous? Not even Davion would make light of the institution of marriage thusly. And what if he bored of her? What if he no longer found amusement in the sparks between their natures? Mariella may have understood the way of the world, and she may have even accepted it, but that didn't mean she felt no displeasure towards it. She looked on after Sarah, full of confusion and foreboding sorrows. But...if all that were so, then why...why did His Majesty seem completely lost in what she, very clearly, recognized to be very much indeed love? Such a strange happening indeed.

  



	54. The Road To Nowhere, part 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While unbeknown to her, Sarah has succeeded in obtaining the one thing the Goblin King has desired for hundreds of years -power over the Labyrinth. After being hidden for years from his diabolical wrath, Sarah finds herself alone and vulnerable as Jareth's dark desires are finally aloud to rear their ugly heads. As always, the only question is, are things really as they seem?

"Sarah...I am sorry. I seem to have upset you. That was not my intention. It's just..."

Sarah paused her grumbling to glare up at Mariella. She was so slouched in her chair, she thought she might be able to just slip between the cushions.

" *Sigh* I know that wasn't your intention, Marie. And I shouldn't have snapped at you; it's just...that topic always seems to make my blood boil...I'm sorry, what were you starting to say?" she asked. Mariella folded her hands in her lap.

"Forgive me, Sarah. It's just...you don't..._smell_ like a virgin."

Now that had Sarah perking up in her seat. Her eyes widened for a moment, and she even uncrossed her arms as she straightened.

"Wha- Really? You mean you couldn't tell?" Sarah asked, trying to figure out why that was. She recalled one of her initial encounters with Roldan -he had been able to pick up on her sexual status right away. Why couldn't she? Mariella shook her head.

"...No, actually. You don't suppose why that is, do you?" she asked.

Sarah leaned forward to rest her chin on the heel of her hand as she thought.

"Um...hmm..." Then it dawned. "Oh! Well, I've been learning how to mask my chemical signals from others lately. Maybe I'm actually doing something right?"

"I would say so. I'm half Fae, and half Nymph, two of the most sexually charged beings in the Underground, and I couldn't catch the slightest whiff of innocence on you," she said, meaning it as a compliment, but had Sarah blushing for other, secretly obvious reasons.

Sarah looked to the floor, and hugged her knees up to her chest as she pouted. _Damn, this woman has the most irritating way with words..._ she grumbled, secretly grimacing with thoughts of how the reason Mariella couldn't smell innocence on her was because she had none left to smell -and it had nothing to do with having sex. _Damn that Jareth! Stupid scoundrel. Ugh!_ Her aggravation and embarrassment were more than enough to snuff out any amount of pride she might have felt for actually being able to fool a Fae. She swayed from side to side as she thought, mindlessly glancing about until her eyes landed on the clock. It was about 9:45, she'd have to head down to Roldan's soon. She stood and went over towards the dining table.

"I guess that's a good thing, eh?" she asked as she stood, hoping that would be the end of it. Mariella's gaze followed her as she moved about the room, then she frowned again.

"You mentioned something about reporting to Master Roldan?" she asked. Sarah rang her little bell then glanced back.

"Uh, yea. Jareth's making me take etiquette lessons with Roldan before the wedding. I'm s'posed to meet him in the drawing room at ten-thirty every day," she explained. Mariella stood to join her across the room.

"I see. And what would you wish for me to do during this time?" she asked. Sarah rose her brow and shrugged, trying not to acknowledge the tiny Goblin that then bustled in and out again.

"Well, you can just come along with me, I guess," she said, and took a seat at the table, while Mariella stood wondering what in the world Sarah was eating. Sarah glanced up mid-bite. "Oh, do you want one? Take what ever you want," she said. Mariella took a seat, but was still apprehensive.

"May I ask what it is you have summoned?"

"Don't tell me you've never had a bagel before," Sarah said, smiling to herself as she buttered her own. Mariella scowled, but reached out for one at random. "It'll be nice having you there. It's always just me and Roldan. It's so boring," she added on, smiling to herself at the way Mariella tried to observe and mimic Sarah's actions precisely.

"Yes...and I do look forward to meeting His Majesty's Hand. I have heard much of him from Lord Davion. But, might I ask if it would be appropriate for me to accompany you? From what I have heard he is quite...intolerable," she asked. Sarah scoffed.

"Please. I'm supposed to be the Queen, aren't I? If I want you there, I don't really think Roldan has any right to tell me otherwise. He can deal with it."

"And of His Majesty?"

"He can deal with it too," Sarah said, setting her butter knife down on the table with a firm hand, then looked up to stare intently at Mariella. "No offense, but Jareth is the one that stuck you on me, so he can deal with what ever happens as a result of that. You're my hand maiden, and if I want you with me, then you'll be with me. Who knows, this might actually work out in my favor," she said.

"Yes, well...not to recall a tender subject, but...you never did answer my earlier question..." Mariella said, timidly. Sarah had to think for a moment.

"Oh...yea. Jareth seems to have a habit of being the one to come and wake me up every morning, but he usually leaves before I do. So, I'd say to come by any time before ten-thirty. Actually, the earlier the better. Having you show up might help get him out of my hair sooner," she said. Mariella was about to take her first bite when she frowned.

"Sarah...I doubt my presence would have any impact on His Majesty's actions, where his affections towards you are concerned," she said. Sarah pouted.

"Don't think so?" she asked. Mariella shook her head.

"No...Do not forget, Sarah, I am but a servant. Most of the time, I will simply be ignored. But, if it ever came down to it, all His Majesty has to do is tell me to leave, and it will be my compulsion to do so," she explained. Sarah rested her jaw on her hand.

"Ah, well that sucks. So much for that brilliant scheme," she said, half joking, half not.

"Do you really find his company so loathsome? From what I saw of you yesterday, it would seem His Majesty's affections are truly thus -affectionate," she said, causing Sarah to pout harder.

"Appearances can be deceiving. And besides, Jareth is probably the most mercurial, bi-polar maniac I've ever met. But, ok, I won't lie, he's not all bad. Heck, I am pretty positive things could be a lot worse. I'll even go as far as to say there are times when I even like him; but for every nice charming half-way decent thing he does, he more than makes up for it with conniving vicious heartless trickery. And the point of it is, that no matter how _nice_ you think he is, he's done terrible things to me, things that I can never forgive him for. And as long as I can't move on from that, there's no hope that I will ever give him the benefit of the doubt."

Mariella had glanced down by this point, deeply contemplative. Sarah waited until her words sank in.

"I see. That is...understandable. You are not from our world. You do not understand our ways. Things that we perceive as efforts of affection, you perceive as otherwise. But perhaps that is why he has chosen you. It will be more of a challenge for him to sway you. I believe I understand now as well. But please do not misunderstand me, though I have been conditioned towards this way of life, I do have the ability to comprehend your own opposition. And perhaps it is because I myself am a foreigner, that I am also able to comprehend that His Majesty in turn may not. But, given your predicament, I implore that you try to understand this as well. It may take some time, but time is all we really have. And believe me when I say that from what I have seen, in our culture anyway, His Majesty's actions towards you are to be considered very very compassionate. Once you understand, you _will_ feel lucky to have been chosen by him and not another. I have witnessed other brides of conquest being broken by other lords, and may I just say Lady Sarah, that if you knew the kind of torments they went through, you would be groveling at His Majesty's feet in praise."

Sarah had glanced away part way through Mariella's speech, lost in a daze of what lay outside the window. She heard a sense of wisdom in Mariella's voice that reminded her of Liana, and in turn, made her remember just how much she missed her. With her anger finally dissipated, she brought her eyes back to her curious maiden.

"Yes, I suppose you're right. I'll need to stop whining about all this at some point, and just accept my lot. But again, that is at _some point_. And I'll be the one to determine when that point is. And just like I told Jareth: it doesn't matter how comparatively better my situation is, it still doesn't make it okay." She glanced back to the clock. It was getting to be about that time. She stood and made way to leave. "Well, enough serious talk. Let's get going," she said. Mariella turned in her spot, confused.

"Aren't you going to dress first?" she asked. Sarah stopped and turned back.

"Um...I am dressed?" she asked, her body tensing slightly when Mariella's eyes only widened further. _Great...I have a feeling I know exactly where this conversation is about to go..._

"That is your attire?" Mariella asked, aghast. Sarah closed her eyes and sighed.

"Is there something wrong?" she asked. Mariella stood, looking uncertain of herself.

"Pardon but, I am merely confused is all..."

"You saw me wear something just like this yesterday and weren't confused then," Sarah pointed out. Mariella shrugged.

"Yes, but, I simply assumed you had just returned from an expedition of some sort. I did not think this to be your usual attire. May I ask why it is you dress in such a fashion?"

"Because it's my choice," Sarah said, trying to push back any lingering irritation on the matter that might worm its way out. Mariella pursed her lips.

"And His Majesty does not take issue with this?" she asked. Sarah scowled again.

"Surprisingly, no. But still, his opinion doesn't matter. He forced me to come here, the least he could do is let me pick out my own clothes."

"And why then do you chose thusly?"

Sarah crossed her arms over her chest.

"Because wearing pants and knee high boots makes me feel more secure. And as I hope you can understand, a sense of security is something I greatly desire in any form I can get it," she said, and Mariella didn't need an explanation to understand why a pair of pants would give her a better sense of security. Though, she still didn't understand why it was such an issue for the girl in the first place. Jareth was strong, intelligent, competent, and very handsome. Any woman of her world would jump at the chance to serve as his consort let alone become his wife. Being taken against her will or not, she found it simply unfathomable that she could truly resent him so strongly. She recalled the brief time she'd seen the two encounter one another, and was sure that it was not hatred she sensed coming from the girl. Frustration, stubbornness maybe, but it was a superficial anger, even she could sense that. And yet she spoke so strongly against him...She wasn't sure what, but something was not as it seemed.

"I understand, though it is a shame," she said. Sarah quirked a brow.

"Why do you say that?"

"You are a Queen, Sarah. You have only the finest gowns at your disposal. It is a shame to let that luxury go to waste. I will keep this in mind for the future."

"The future?" Sarah asked.

"Yes. As your underling, I may never surpass you in anything. Should you chose to wear such common clothing, so must I wear something less." And even though she tried to hide it, Sarah could still sense the disappointment in Mariella's voice as she said that. It made her frown, she didn't like having her own actions impact someone else's life. But, that was the point wasn't it? She was going to be Queen after all. All of her actions would thereby have an impact. She was to be looked up to and modeled after. Mmmmph, she didn't like it. Not one bit. The twinge of minor disappointment in Mariella's otherwise cheerful expression put a sour in her mouth. If she was so put off over something so trivial, how would she handle decisions that actually mattered? She unfolded her arms from over her chest and placed her hands on her hips.

"Alright, so what would you have me wear?" she asked, for the sole hope that it might help lessen the shallow pit of disconcertion she was starting to feel. She felt a little better when Mariella's face perked up again. Oh yea, she was definitely a girly-girl, through and through.

"I am honored that the Queen has an interest in my opinion. If you wish my thoughts, I would say nothing too extravagant. Something simple, suiting your common tastes, yet fittingly appropriate for your position," she said, having to stop herself from rambling about the subject. Sarah cracked a smile.

"What about something like your dress?" Sarah asked, running an eye up and down her front. Marie's own gaze was soon to follow.

"This? You mean to say you fancy this poor thing? Oh my, this would never be suitable for you; though, it would be a step nonetheless."

Sarah hadn't really paid much attention to Mariella's wardrobe up to this point, but the course of their conversation had her feeling more attentive. Yesterday, when they first met, Sarah remembered she'd worn a blue dress. It was thick and stiff looking, full length and simple, very suitable for a colder climate. But, today's however, was an olive green. And while it was still full length, it was much lighter, and had a decently swooping neckline. There was nothing fancy about it, no corsets or fringe or lace. Actually, it reminded her of some of the summer dresses she herself would have worn back in the Aboveground. If she really had to, she wouldn't mind wearing something like that. And thinking back to the day Liana had shown her all those gowns, she remembered seeing a few summery dresses that she actually did find very appealing. Sarah could feel her inner girl starting to break free of her curiosity, but she did her best to keep it chained down. It wasn't that she didn't like dressing up like that, she just didn't want Jareth to think she was getting all dolled up for him. She then felt another pang like the one from earlier that morning. First make-up, now pretty clothes? Was she really going to restrict herself from things that made _he_r feel good simply out of spite for Jareth? Didn't she say she was going to start doing things that made her happy for that reason alone and leave Jareth's opinion out of it all together? Hmm...

All this thinking had Sarah feeling very angsty once again. She didn't like it. Maybe it was time for another work out...

Sarah's head darted up from whatever dark and dreary place it had been in with a smile on her face. She needed a distraction, as well as an excuse; and at Mariella's expense or not she was going to have one.

"Say, Mariella, you wouldn't happen to have ever heard of jogging before, have you?"

Mariella blinked, confused at the dramatic tangent the conversation had just taken.

"Um, no, my lady. I have not."

"I didn't think so. But, how about this. If you come jogging with me after my lessons I'll wear one of those dresses tomorrow. Does that sound like a fair compromise?" Sarah asked, hiding her secret intention of simply wanting to have a good chuckle at the site of Mariella all dressed up in modern work out gear.

Mariella stared on, having a sinking feeling that there was something dastardly lurking within Sarah's request, but she had no idea what it would be.

"As your maiden, I am obliged to obey your every command, though I appreciate the graciousness you bestow me by asking my consent. And as for your compromise, as unneeded as it is, I do not know what this jogging is, but I will accept," she said, clasping her hands out in front of her, and tried not to appear weirded out when Sarah suddenly clapped her hands together and bounced up on her toes.

"Great. Hey, here's something, I'll even let you pick it out. But nothing frilly, okay?" Sarah asked, shooting her an index finger for emphasis. Mariella couldn't help but feel some of Sarah's newfound glee. It was so much better than trying to tip toe around her anger.

"Of course, Your Grace-Sarah-"

"Wonderful. And on that note I think it's time we were off. Roldan's sure to be in for a bit of a surprise when he sees you, and I'm sure he'll already be pretty grouchy that I'm cutting it so close. Come on, let's go." And with that, Sarah led the way out of the room and into the maze of hallowed corridors.

  



	55. The Road To Nowhere, part 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While unbeknown to her, Sarah has succeeded in obtaining the one thing the Goblin King has desired for hundreds of years -power over the Labyrinth. After being hidden for years from his diabolical wrath, Sarah finds herself alone and vulnerable as Jareth's dark desires are finally aloud to rear their ugly heads. As always, the only question is, are things really as they seem?

Roldan stood with a hollow gaze as he stared out the window. The day was serene, and it irked him that such tranquil tempest was to be wasted yet again on the likes of Jareth's mortal. He sighed to himself and shook his head. There really was no reason for him to be so antagonistic, even he knew that; but it didn't change the feeling of increasing dread he felt upon waiting for the girl's company from day to day. Perhaps it was because Jareth had outright told him to like her that he felt the such contrariness, or perhaps it was because of other, more haunting things.

Ever since Sarah's tumble the previous day, he hadn't been able to get _her_ out of his head, and he had no idea why. He'd made lists, one after another, in his head of all the reasons why she wasn't right. She was nothing even remotely similar. She was rude, and vulgar, unsophisticated, ignorant, ungrateful, apprehensive and aggressive. She was short tempered and narrow-minded, self-righteous and impudent. And yet for some unfathomable reason, Jareth found her worthy of fulfilling the role which he deemed no other worthy of in the past? Even _her_? This girl was not nearly in the same league as _her_. And yet...why could he not get her out of his head? Why had this girl reminded him of her? These thoughts bothered him greatly, and in an effort to dissolve his anger tried to think more positively. Yes, this girl was human, and yes she was classless, but she did have a certain sense of passion. And she was eager. He knew she could be kind and intelligent. With a little elbow grease, he had no doubt that she could be whipped into shape, both figuratively and literally. And she did test him...though it be through disgrace and callousness, she did_ push_ him. And what was more surprising, was that instead of simply smiting her in her spot, Jareth chose to push her back. Why was that? He had always been so impatient and merciless in the past. What was it about this girl that gave him such high tolerance? There was just so much mystery surrounding this mortal, _Sarah Williams_. Too much mystery in his mind. There was something up with her, something Jareth hadn't told him. And for the first time ever, it had Roldan tempted enough to try to figure out what it was. A small part of him dismissed this urge completely, telling him it was merely his own spite and unwillingness to move on that fed such suspicions. But, an even smaller part of him, told him that it was for that very reason that this happening was indeed suspicious.

He let the light breeze grazing against his face smooth out any lingering irritation upon hearing the door open behind him. He'd been counting. It was ten-twenty-eight. She had two minutes left. He tried to check that up as something positive to help jump-start his day. He turned around, and drew his brow when he saw that she was not alone. An expression which soon turned to a scowl the closer they approached.

Sarah knew what to expect well before ever nearing the door. She knew Roldan would be grumpy, and knew that he would most likely become even grumpier to be receiving a surprise guest; but she didn't care. If anything, it should be Jareth's job to inform him of such things, if it were really something he needed to be informed on in the first place. And with that resolve, she held her head high as she led the way across the open room, noticing, but not making any note of, the way Mariella scuttled directly behind her. Roldan leaned up from the window, snarling his lip and looking down his nose at the bunch. She was already pouting...great.

"Good morning Roldan, you're looking as cheery as ever," Sarah said, not bothering to acknowledge that the only reason she had the courage to speak to him so overtly terse this early on was because she now had another person behind her to use as a backbone.

"I would return your empty endearment, but in truth that scowl of yours only works to hamper what I assume to be your charm. Perhaps you should smile a little more whence looking upon others, and they may be more inclined to lie to you thusly."

Sarah narrowed her eyes and pouted harder. It seemed they were both a little more impatient with each other this morning. But before Sarah could stifle a comeback, Roldan turned his gaze and arched a brow at whatever lay just over her shoulder.

"It seems we have company this morning," he said. Sarah shrugged and took a step to the side.

"Yes, thank you for noticing. This is Marie. She is my new hand maiden," she said trying to sound as casual as that sentence would allow her. Roldan'a brow arched further.

"Really?" was all he said, completely ignoring Sarah to take a step passed her and towards Marie, who kept her eyes lowered in caution, but otherwise remained still. Sarah was then forced to observe from the side-lines as Roldan placed a hand over his heart and bowed before her -an action which miffed Sarah more than she would have thought, seeing as he never once showed her the respect to bow to her let alone have a complacent smile on his face while he did it. She started to grumble then: Was he really doing this just to piss her off? Or did he think that she was still too ignorant of their customs to realize that was what was happening? Blowing off her authority over him by in turn bowing to someone lesser than her? Either way, it was barely ten-thirty and already Sarah could sense the snow-ball effect of her irritation escalating to a full-blown avalanche by the day's end. And it didn't bother her one bit. "My Lady, I am Roldan, Hand to His Majesty the King Jareth. It is a pleasure to meet your acquaintance." He straightened to meet eyes with Mariella, and as Sarah noticed, it seemed that (regardless of their height difference) it was she who was in fact looking down on him. This greeting struck her strange as she compared it to the one she viewed between her and Jareth the previous night. Mariella gave him a slight nod, merely adjusting to clasp her hands out in front of her.

"Master Roldan, the pleasure is mine, surely. I have heard a great deal of you from my lord, and have been very much looking forward to putting a face to those tales," Marie said, and Sarah found herself marginally abashed at the way Roldan smiled just then. Smiled. SMILED?! Had she ever seen Roldan smile before? Scowl? Yes. Sneer? Maybe. But smile? She couldn't even imagine what his face would look like if he ever had, and was therefore momentarily unable to comprehend her current vision of just that.

"Tales which have only been flattering, I hope," he answered, his hand still covering his heart. Sarah wanted to stick her tongue out at them. Was this his attempt at flirting or something? Whatever it was, it was greatly unbecoming. Sarah found herself silently tapping her foot as she waited to be acknowledged.

"Oh, but my, how could they ever be not?" Mariella answered, giggly and chipper and way too googly for Sarah's taste. Roldan smiled again.

"May I ask who is the lord from which you hail? I can see you are Masochist. Have you really ventured all the way from Aodhan's palace?"

"She's from Davion's castle," Sarah interrupted, wedging her foot between the two at that. Roldan twitched as if just now realizing she were there. He took half a step back and shot her a glare out of the corner of his eye.

"Really? Interesting," he murmured, back to being the grumbling heap of angst Sarah knew and loathed, then turned his attention back to Marie. "May I ask why one such as yourself has left the charge of our fair prince to come _here_?" he asked. Sarah scowled at the nastiness he put into his question, but Mariella didn't seem the least bothered by it.

"But of course, I was lead consort to my lord-"

"Davion sent her here as a wedding present to Jareth and I." For some reason, Sarah felt the overwhelming urge to finish her sentence. Mariella closed her open mouth and smiled. She could sense the tension between the two, and only hoped her indifference might help lessen it, or at the very least move the conversation along to something more withdrawn. Again Roldan glared.

"I see. How very fortunate for you," he said, and stepped away from them both. Sarah turned on a dime.

"I take it you don't have a problem with her being here then?" she called after him, waiting for an answer before joining him at the table, and ignoring the whisper of Mariella's voice as it quietly proposed she merely _stand aside and out of the way until her affairs were finished_.

"Of course not. And neither is it my place to. You are to be Queen, and as your servant you will do with her as you please. Now, if you wouldn't mind I have a rather strict schedule I would like to keep to. So please, take your seat so we may begin," he said. And the indifference in his voice only irked her further. She stalked her way towards the table, not bothering to pay any attention to Mariella as she quietly took the seat beside her. Sarah's eyes burned him with their impatience, but Roldan kept his strictly away. "So, Marie, how long have you served under Davion then?" he asked. Mariella folded her hands in her lap.

"Only about twenty years or so. I am still a newcomer to this land, though I am enjoying it greatly."

"I see, and how long then has it been since you were in your native land?"

"Oh, dear, it must be going on a century I would say. I haven't really been keeping count, you see. I traveled quite regularly before settling down in Fort Fyrn," she said, causing Sarah to wonder if Roldan was really just making small talk or was actually trying to go somewhere with this. She watched him as he then began skimming through the pages of some dusty old book.

"Very good. I believe your presence here could be quite beneficial to the girl here-"

"My name is Sarah," Sarah interjected. Roldan paused, as if to reign himself in, before picking up once again.

"You have first hand knowledge of the things we will be attempting to cover over the next few weeks. Group discussion would be an interesting change..." His voice trailed off as he searched for one passage in particular. "I was planning to go over the kingdom of Meyhaven today, but I think discussing your native land of Masoch would be the perfect icebreaker, wouldn't you say?" he asked, stealing a peek up at the exotic beauty. Meanwhile, Sarah's annoyance was starting to thin into a general sense of apathy.

"If the mentor deems it such, then I would be only too happy to oblige."

"Very good. Sarah? Why don't you start by taking some notes," he said, shooting her a pen and paper as she sank lower and lower into her seat. _Hm, maybe bringing Mariella here wasn't such a brilliant plan after all..._

* * *

The next five hours passed with massive amounts of consternation as Sarah tried her best not to gag at all the passive-aggressive bullshit Roldan was swinging her way. Initially, Sarah thought having Mariella tag along would give her some sort of advantage or at least provide an outlet from being forced to deal with all of Roldan's attitude. The reality however, was sadly dissenting.

Sarah wasn't sure what was happening, but for some reason Roldan was acting nothing less than totally smitten with Sarah's new handy dandy hand maiden. Instead of being taught a lessen, it seemed Sarah was merely taking notes on the two's friendly conversation, something she would have been fine with mind you (as it was a bit of a breather for herself to see him in such an upbeat mood), if it weren't for the regular glares and back-handed put-downs he would throw at her every time she spoke up. Seriously, what was his problem today? Yes, Roldan did seem to be grumpy by nature, but today there seemed to be an extra spark of animosity directed solely at her, and it had her thinking that maybe that was the real reason he was being so friendly towards Mairella. She wondered what it was, if it was something she did, something she said the day before? She remembered him dismissing her shortly after she tripped during their dance lessen...However, she found nothing about that significant enough to bother worrying about. Had he talked to Jareth? And even so, what would Jareth tell him to put him in such a foul mood? She really just didn't get what his problem was, but she in turn had no problem sending it back at him.

And as much as Mariella wanted to smooth over the tension now broiling the air, she was simply too gentle-hearted to do so. While she was genuine in her courtesy towards Roldan, she was not oblivious to his antagonization towards Sarah. She wondered why in the world he resented her so, and why he would even need reason to. For the most part, she tried to keep their conversations fixated on the factual, historical and social aspects of her home land, and tried her best to cue Sarah in as much as possible. By lunch, the air around them was so volatile, Mariella didn't even attempt to break through it. All three ate their meal in silence, though Roldan, oblivious to the negative impact his aura was having, tried repeatedly to converse with her, and even to Mariella, it seemed he was trying too hard. It was during their meal that she realized it was because he was in fact trying to distract himself from Sarah, but the reason why that would be, she couldn't possibly fathom. The dynamics within this castle were simply fascinating, each new happening was more curious than the last.

When lunch was finished, Sarah pushed back from her chair and stood, knowing that it was now time for dance class. She snarled to herself with the thought of having to be in close proximity with Roldan today. But then again, she had a feeling he was going to just brush her off and tell her to merely observe while he danced with Mariella -_someone who actually knew the steps_. And even though she would have preferred to be as far away from him as possible, for some reason, those thoughts only made her more angry. Mariella stood as well, turning slightly to face Sarah. She saw Roldan was preparing to stand as well, and was then confused when all of the sudden Mariella's head shot down, while Roldan jumped to his feet. She drew her brow on them both when Mariella suddenly exclaimed,

"Your Majesty, what a lovely surprise."

Sarah turned around, and though her brow was high, she wasn't the least bit fazed to find Jareth standing directly behind her.

"Majesty, what an unexpected visit. How may I be of service? Is there something you needed?" Roldan asked. Jareth's attention however, was placed solely on Sarah. He smiled, or he continued to smile that is. Sarah noticed that damn smirk plastered on his face as soon as she'd turned around. She glared up at him, still heated from that morning's encounter.

"How are you?" Jareth asked, that one simple sentence having all three of them blinking with split-second confusion. Sarah crossed her arms and stepped away from her chair. The way his eyes bore into her made it pretty clear to whom he was speaking to.

"I am just dandy. How 'bout you?" she asked, sarcastically. Jareth's smile stretched, clearly amused, though Sarah had a sinking feeling it was because of something else.

"I've seen better days," he answered, and tilted his head slightly as he regarded her, noticing that she was starting to squirm under the scrutiny of his gaze, along with that of the two Fae's behind her. She took another step away from the table. Mariella, who's head had been lowered, peered around, eager to witness yet another strange encounter. She saw Roldan scowling to the side of her, clearly displeased over something. Hmm...

"Well that sucks. But like Roldan said, do you need something? Otherwise, I'd like to get back to my lessons," Sarah said, and again Mariella was soundlessly gasping to herself in the background. Roldan merely huffed.

"Is that so? Well, I bet you think your eagerness to learn should make up for your callousness towards me then?" he asked. Sarah rolled her eyes.

"To be honest, I don't really care. You seem dead set on irritating me today, so you should be happy that all your hard work is paying off," she snapped, and narrowed her eyes when Jareth's smile began to curl into a sneer. His eyes sharpened, and darted off to the side, passed her.

"Very well then. Since the both of you have asked, Roldan, I would like a word with you," he said and no sooner turned his back on Sarah as he stalked off to the other side of the room. Roldan didn't so much as hesitate to join him.

Once the two were a good distance away, Mariella took the opportunity to join Sarah at her side as they both watched the males' quiet conversation.

"My Lady, should I be worried that His Majesty has interrupted your studies?" she asked. Sarah twitched, glancing over to Mariella as if she hadn't noticed she were there.

"Hm? No. He usually comes in around now to pester me."

"And you are not wary of your tone? Even in front of Master Roldan?" Mariella was whispering as she spoke, but Sarah didn't care enough to do so. She was more focused on tuning her ears onto whatever it was Jareth was saying to Roldan than her own conversation anyway.

"Tch, no. See, you all think it's crazy that I talk to Jareth the way I do, but what you don't get is that he thinks it's funny. He thinks it's a riot when I get mad at him. The reason he doesn't reprimand me the way you say is because he'd rather laugh at me instead. It's really not all that surprising. And besides, I have a feeling he's being extra tolerant today."

"Why do you say that?" Mariella asked. Sarah sighed and recrossed her arms, narrowing her gaze on Jareth's profile as he conversed with Roldan.

"Because...remember how I said I was learning how to mask my pheromones? Well, obviously Jareth has been the one teaching me. And, well, I guess we've moved on from sexual signals to anger. He's trying to make me angry so that I will learn to cover it up. So I'm assuming that's why I've been getting away with being extra nasty to him. I don't know if he really thinks I'm that dull not to realize it, but I'll be damned if I don't take full advantage of an opportunity like this," she explained, which only had Mariella gaping with wonder. What a strange game indeed.

"And have you learned anything then?" she asked. Sarah shrugged.

"I don't know. I can't smell these signals. I guess I should be asking you that question, shouldn't I?" She'd turned her head as she spoke, prompting her to answer her more than implied question. Marie started to squirm.

"Well...to be honest Sarah...I've been feeling your rage hitting me in waves all day. I simply was not sure if you were in fact releasing it on purpose or not. But- do not fret my lady. Anger is the strongest and most unstable of emotions. It is the hardest to control. And you have only just begun. I have faith that you will master it in no time. May I give you advice?"

"Sure."

"The way to control your output is not to simply cease being angry. That would be impossible, and quite frankly only work in the reverse. Instead, what you must try to do is find a way to express your anger whilst masking the chemical signals that go along with it. That way, you may still express your body's desire, while achieving your goal at heart," she said. Sarah perked up a bit, now slightly distracted from her eavesdropping.

"Really? I can do that?" she asked.

"But of course. That way, you are able to mask your true intent. If you are truly angry, you will be able to hide the fact and avoid exposing yourself to weakness. But also, if you are not angry and wish to deceive a person, you may then call upon those same signals to manipulate your antagonizer. A third option would be to omit any endorphins all together, and simply use your physicality and words to confuse any would-be opponent," Mariella explained. Sarah nodded on, having been greatly satisfied by this new knowledge. Feeling their conversation at its end, Sarah refocused her eyes and ears on whatever it was Jareth didn't want her to hear.


	56. The Road To Nowhere, part 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While unbeknown to her, Sarah has succeeded in obtaining the one thing the Goblin King has desired for hundreds of years -power over the Labyrinth. After being hidden for years from his diabolical wrath, Sarah finds herself alone and vulnerable as Jareth's dark desires are finally aloud to rear their ugly heads. As always, the only question is, are things really as they seem?

"I'm sorry but...I don't fully understand."

"What about it requires explanation?"

"Nothing. I just...don't see why you would make such a request of me."

"Luckily for you, it is not your place to question the orders you are given."

"Of course, Sire. I did not mean to offend-"

"Please, spare me. I merely came to give you these instructions. Nothing more."

"Very well. But, I am worried, I will not lie. I do not wish to cross any boundaries. I have taken great heed of your earlier warnings..."

"And you have heeded them well. However, you need not worry. Do as I have commanded. And do not second guess my decision."

"As you wish. And what of the girl?"

"...I don't care about her. But, since you've pointed it out. I would like it if you were to keep an eye on her. She may be doe-eyed, but she can not be trusted. I trust you understand that?"

"Of course."

"Very good. That will be all. But remember one rule. You do not, under any circumstance, lay a foul hand on her. Understood?"

"Yes...Your Grace. I understand."

Sarah watched as what she thought to be a bizarre reaction coming from Roldan during the course of his and Jareth's talk. She was too far away to hear what Jareth was telling him, but she could see whatever it was had made Roldan very uncomfortable. It seemed he was being lectured about something, having been able to recognize the seriousness of Jareth's expression well enough. She saw Roldan scowl with uncertainty, and wondered what in the world had put that look on his face. She saw Jareth smile then, and raise his arm as he clasped Roldan on the shoulder in a gesture of reassurance. Then he turned, his gaze already dead set on Sarah. Mariella took a few steps back.

"Well, it seems my business is done here. Shall I bid my darling new bride farewell?" he asked, full of more of that transparent cheerfulness she detested so much. She rooted her feet firmly in place.

"And what business would that be? Seeing how you obviously didn't want me to hear it."

Jareth tilted his head, half-tempted to point out the fact that if he truly did intend for her not to hear, then what good would it do her to bother asking him such? He kept his mouth shut however. He was doing well to brush off most of her nastiness and mold it into something of amusement. Though his ability to do such would wear itself out soon. He needed to keep them both in check.

"If you wished to know, I believe all you had to do was take a few steps closer," he countered. Sarah bit her cheek.

"That twinkle in your eye tells me it has something to do with me."

"Or maybe I'm just awed by your reverence?"

"Pff, yeah, fat chance of that," she scoffed at him, angling her body away to hide her blush. Why she was blushing, she had no freaking clue.

"And what a modest bride she is," he said to himself, reveling in the way his endearments made her squirm. "Since you asked so _nicely_, I'll tell you that I've decided to clue Roldan in on this little game of ours," he said, causing Sarah's head to dart up so fast she thought she might have snapped a vertebrae.

"What?" she asked, deadpanned. Her wide eyes roamed away from Jareth's sly grin to spy Roldan making his way back to the table. His kept himself turned away from her, and she knew it was on purpose. Great. She didn't notice Jareth closing in on her.

"I find it selfish that I be the center of all your frustration, and that it might be more economical if you were to be pushed from all sides. So, what do you say? Are you up for the challenge?"

"Challenge?" she repeated, eyeing him with distaste as he circled his hands around her waist, though she did nothing to stop him.

"Yes. I've told you once before, I'm playing the game you set. You hold the trump card to stop all of this, if it becomes too much to bear, just remember that," he said, and leaned down to nip at her ear. She nearly jolted away, but his hands held her in place. His proximity, and the sheer haughtiness he exuded onto her had her vibrating with aggravation. Oh, the things she would do right now if there weren't witnesses in the room.

"Trump card? You mean caving," she asked, her voice hushing down quite a bit. Jareth's arms tightened around her, and he smiled against her skin.

"I've told you, yielding to me would drain that excess of chemicals to nothing for a time. Then, you wouldn't have to worry about shielding yourself...well...perhaps not." She ignored his nipping and shot him a dangerous eye. In that moment, it was as if they were completely alone.

"What are you getting at exactly?" she asked, with warning. Jareth's hands moved higher as he kissed her neck.

"Well...in theory, full-fledged copulation should deplete you of _certain uncontrollable pheromones_. However, something tells me once you finally have a taste of all the wonderful things I'm going to do to you, you won't be able to get enough. I know that greedy little heart of yours. And I know you can feel it too. It's almost regretful, knowing that once this is all said and done you'll be faced with an even larger problem than before. Almost..." She shivered with the tantalization of his breath and his whisper as it breezed across her skin. The moment might have been sexy just then, if it weren't for the two curious Fae looming behind them. Oh, and if it were being said by any one other than Jareth. She growled and shoved herself away from him.

"Ugh, you're so full of yourself. I thought you were done here?" she snarled, breaking free of his hold and stumbling back a step or two. For the second time now, a voice in the back of her head was questioning the manner of his actions now that they had spectators to witness it. Giving in to the voice, her eyes darted over towards said spectators, who merely watched with silent expectancy. She forced her eyes back to Jareth, now fearful of him making an example out of her, a fear which was rightfully justified when his smile sharpened and he reached out to grab her by the jaw and yanked her back in as he rumbled, with blatant malicious intent,

"Oh, I am." And she barely had enough time to think of what Roldan and Mariella's internal reactions would be before feeling the brute force of Jareth's lips as he seared a kiss onto her own. She murmured in opposition and tried tugging herself away, but he'd bitten down on her, making it more painful to fight away than to simply take it. It wasn't until _he_ was good and done that he allowed her to breathe again, pulling her face in even closer until the fierceness of their gazes clashed. "I hope you are aware of how lucky you are that exposing your aggression is my current prerogative and understand that although I tolerate that mouth and those nasty little eyes, they have not gone unchecked. So do rest assured that while I take your blandishments now, each and every one of them _will_ be revisited later on," he snarled, viciously, and deftly threw her aside only to prove his point further. She was grumbling and rubbing her cheek when he turned his attention to Roldan. "Oh please, do have fun with her. I know you're dying for it," he said, and left the room.

Sarah rubbed her mouth with the back of her hand as she snarled at the spot where Jareth once stood. His obnoxiousness was bad enough in private, but he was really going to act like_ that_ around other people? She couldn't get over how someone so focused on honing_ her_ behavior could stand to act like a rebellious twelve-year-old and not find anything wrong with it. Yeah, yeah, she knew the whole "the King will do as the King pleases" spiel, but wasn't that level, or even just the tone of that PDA considered inappropriate? Geez. And what was even worse was that she knew that by the time she looked up Roldan would already be frowning at her, once again blaming her for what was very clearly Jareth's indiscretion. She grimaced and glared over at nothing, oblivious to Mariella as she approached and placed a hand on her shoulder.

"My, Sarah, that was..."

"Alright. Now that's enough with all your grumbling. Stand up straight and wipe that disgusting grimace off your face."

Both Sarah and Mariella's heads whipped up at the volatile intrusion; their expressions however could not have been more opposite.

"Excuse me?" Sarah asked, aghast. Mariella's hand on her shoulder tightened, and her lips pouted with worry. Roldan was suddenly much closer than he had been. _What the?_

"Are you deaf _and_ dumb? I told you to straighten yourself up. You've been here how long and still your posture is disgusting. I can only imagine the filth and swine amongst which you were raised."

"Oh my, Master Roldan-" Mariella's dainty little hand had darted up to cover her mouth as she took a step back. Sarah meanwhile was gearing up for the battle of a lifetime.

"Alright, you better watch it. Just because Jareth told you to be mean to me doesn't mean-"

"Oh, I assure you, you malignant little girl, you have no idea what it means." He cut her off, placing himself between her and Mariella. His glare was more intense up close, his sudden proximity making him appear all the more dark and domineering. Sarah tried to hold her ground, but found it to be more difficult than anticipated. The force of his aggression alone was effortlessly pounding her down, as if it just now seemed to her that all his anger towards her thus far had merely been an act. She opened her mouth to retort, but he beat her to it. "Do not for one second be fooled into thinking this is merely a part of His Majesty's strange little game he has going with you. I have been idling by, grinding my teeth against all of your obnoxious, crudely unkempt behavior and have been itching for the moment Jareth finally let loose my reins on you." He narrowed his eyes and curled his fists as he spoke, inching closer and closer with growing vehemence. By this point, Mariella had wisely backed off, leaving Sarah stranded to take the brunt of whatever explosion was about to go off. Sarah bit the inside of her cheek as she held her glare. She didn't move, nor speak a word, too cautious of what level of horrific outcome would befall them should she break stance. "I have no idea why Jareth would choose to honor a primitive hellion such as yourself by binding you in marriage. The very thought of it makes me sick with thoughts of the disgrace you will bequeath upon Jareth's name and all his great kingdom has amassed to." he took a step forward. She took a step back. "You should be whipped and flogged for the level of hauteur with which you flaunt yourself about these halls. You should be chained and brandished for the audacity by which you disrespect a man as mighty as Jareth, and it pains me that I am not the one who takes joy in administering such disciplines. I don't know why you're here, or what he could possibly see in you, but you are not even remotely worthy of standing alongside Jareth. And the sorry fact that I must continue to sit idly by and watch this ridiculousness come to pass fills me with such shame and abashment that I worry for the future reputation of this kingdom once a filthy peon such as yourself sits on the throne."

Sarah was thankful that he used such big words in his rant, or she may have actually felt hurt by it. She crossed her arms over her chest and swallowed hard.

"Ya know, you could have saved yourself a lot of breath by simply saying you don't like me, but hey, must feel good to finally get it all off your chest," she said, with every ounce of cattish snarl that Roldan had just accused her of having. His eyes twitched on hers, the only tell as to the level of restraint he'd had to exude unto himself just then. Sarah squeezed her biceps to stop her fingers from trembling, mildly intimidated by the ferocity of his glare. Geez, the only person she'd ever been this nervous of was Jareth. In a last ditch effort to cement her quickly failing resolve, she spoke up again. "I get it, okay? You're finally free to speak your mind. You don't want me here. You don't think I'm worthy of becoming Queen. You don't know why Jareth chose me above everyone else. Well let me clue you in on a little something: I couldn't agree with you more."

"Do you think that earns you any sympathy?" The snap in his voice caused her to flinch back. "Ventures of conquest are a common happening among the court, but even those brides of far worse circumstance are quick to learn their place. You attempt to create a common ground for us to walk but you forget that regardless of my opinions I am allied with _Jareth_. And since he has chosen _you_, it only begets _you_ more derision to continuously overlook the high level of esteem you have been dealt. Are you really so dim as to not yet realize the ramifications of your situation? Nor of the adulation Jareth has shown you by such? Like it or not, you have been chosen, and it is time that you dealt with it, properly and respectfully. You have been given free reign of this castle as is the right of your position, but you know not your place within it. It's time you gained some perspective," he snarled, glaring off to the side at Mariella. "You are to see that this girl follows every one of the parameters I set within these walls from this moment forward. Understood?" Mariella stiffened and blanched, then quickly ducked her head down as she nodded. Sarah scowled, now even more angry for having upset Mariella as well.

"Hey, you can't talk to her like that. She's my servant, she doesn't have to listen to you," Sarah practically hollered at him. Roldan turned his attention back to her with a sneer.

"From now on you will start acting like the respected woman you are supposed to be. You will show proper etiquette and conduct befitting your position, and you will do it without flaw-"

"You have no right to-"

"Stow that God damned tongue of yours before I rip it out!" he snarled, causing Sarah to momentarily quiver and tremble from the level of animosity being spat at her. She blinked a few times, fighting off the sudden sting of what might be tears pricking the corner of her eyes. She gulped again. _Well geez.._

"I-I'm supposed to be Queen. You can't order me around like this," she said, chastising herself for how shaky her voice sounded. While she'd always been able to see through most of Jareth's anger, it seemed Roldan's disgust was completely genuine, and was therefore much more terrifying.

"You are supposed to be Queen, yes. But you are far from it. Jareth has given me the liberty of superseding my authority over yours when we are in this room. During the hours we meet you will do as I say, when I say it. You will do it without hesitation and you will do it becomingly. And since you no longer have any authority over me, neither then does your servant. She too will do as I say, when I say it. I suggest you follow her lead now and save yourself the heartache of having to deal with Jareth's wrath at the end of the day," he growled. Sarah narrowed her eyes on him.

"Alright, I don't know what kind of bug crawled up your ass last night, but you need to chill the fuck out," she said, surprisingly mellow, and then drew her brow when Roldan started to laugh at her. Seriously what was his problem? Hadn't they been getting along reasonably well this week? Why did he hate her so freaking much? She grew more worried then, there was a sense of malice in that laugh the likes of which she recognized all too well. He turned away and stalked over towards a filing cabinet. He was quick to return however, so she couldn't see what it was he grabbed. He stood a little further back this time, closer towards Mariella. He pulled something out from behind his back then, causing Sarah's eyes to nearly bug out of her head when she saw that it was a whip he had taken from the drawer. "What? You cant- No. Jareth said your aren't allowed to touch me!" she yelled, taking a precautionary two or three steps back. Roldan's stance only grew more firm.

"Tell me Sarah, do you know what a whipping boy is?" he asked. Sarah scowled and puzzled her brow.

"Um, no," she said, her eyes slowly roaming over towards Marie, who currently had a very sorry expression on her face. It seemed like something was about to hit the fan.

"In some cultures it is often thought that a child of prestige must remain unsullied by physical blandishments. Subsequently, when the child could not be punished, they would be assigned a whipping boy to take the beating in his stead. This helped teach the child that their actions would always hold consequences for others and encourage them to abstain from future improper behavior. They would be forced to watch the innocent receive the punishment and pain which they deserved, and sometimes even administer it themselves..."

"So, what you're saying is-"

"What I'm saying Sarah, is that while Jareth has forbade me from laying a hand on you, he has said nothing of this woman here," he said, and shot Mariella a glance. Sarah stared on in abhorrence as Mariella then dropped her head low and curtsied,

"I was sent here to serve Her Majesty, in any way that I am needed," she said. Roldan smirked and looked back up to Sarah.

"See how compliant she is? She knows that she will be stripped and whipped and yet faces it with poise and grace. And why is that, Sarah? It is because she knows it is her duty to do so. And so I will ask you one time, will you finally start playing along? Or shall I start counting?" he asked. Sarah's eyes widened immensely. There was no way she was about to let this kind of medieval bullshit go down.

"Are you serious? What kind of monster are you!? You can't just up and beat her because I mouthed off. She didn't do anything wrong!"

"Well that's the point, isn't it? Your actions hold consequence for every subject which calls this place home. Did you think you would get away with such vulgarity simply by holding out long enough? Jareth may have his quirks about you beyond your chamber door, but outside of it you _are _expected to and you _will_ act a certain way. And forgive me, but I don't think putting more consideration into your speech is asking all too much," he said, and Sarah was about ready to snarl when Mariella suddenly broke through the tension.

"Sarah- please, for your own sake, swallow your pride and concede him on this," Mariella piped up timidly from her lowered position off to the side. Sarah, fuming at the ears, turned towards her, filled with more rage at the prospect of Roldan whipping her than over everything else he'd said. She stared at her, waging the war of the century in her brain. Then ground her teeth as she glared back up at Roldan.

"Fine. I apologize for swearing. I won't do it again. There, is that what you wanted?" she snapped. Roldan lowered the whip.

"A little less of that attitude would be preferable, but I suspect there to be quite a learning curve for us to round in the days ahead," he said, seeming to dismiss his rage towards her in a manner that was much too similar to Jareth, and turned away from her, holstering the whip as he bowed at Marie. "I apologize for having to put you through any unwanted stress. This turn of events is truly the most unfortunate way to meet." Mariella straightened, and it seemed that Sarah was the only one completely flabbergasted by his sudden change in tone.

"There is no need. I will fulfill my duty to the best of my ability with no grudge against you nor His Majesty for the happenings which may befall me. The conviction in your principles only adds to your well-respected legacy of social composure," Mariella said, and turned to move towards Sarah. She felt her eye her with strict intent as she said, "Now, may we put this ugliness behind us and move on with the day? Please? Pick your battles, My lady." Sarah held her stare a moment longer, every fiber of her being telling her not to let this go, but for some reason, just seeing the look of concerned urgency in Mariella's eyes nearly crushed her fiery sprit in its tracks. _Pick your battles..._ Liana's voice rang like a distant echo through the hallows of her thoughts. With one last snarl, she closed her eyes, and sighed.


	57. The Road To Nowhere, part 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While unbeknown to her, Sarah has succeeded in obtaining the one thing the Goblin King has desired for hundreds of years -power over the Labyrinth. After being hidden for years from his diabolical wrath, Sarah finds herself alone and vulnerable as Jareth's dark desires are finally aloud to rear their ugly heads. As always, the only question is, are things really as they seem?

"Stop! Stop. What are you doing? Your posture is sluggish and your timing is off. Level your shoulders and start again. From the beginning."

Sarah's molten stare burned into Mariella and she jittered with all kinds of pent up rage and frustration as the two's movements came to a screeching halt for about the umpteenth time now in the past half hour. Mariella, who had been trying to compliment Sarah's rage with her own cheerfulness, merely gave her yet another sad little smile as she moved to take position.

After the initial blow-out, Sarah had been worried of how horrific the course of dance class would go now that Roldan had taken it upon himself to clear the air of any misgiving thoughts of friendship. He was just so angry with her, so much so that she was seriously worried that he might get physical if he forced her to dance with him. luckily for her, Roldan wanted to be as close to Sarah as she wanted to be to him, and therefore chose to stand on the sidelines while he coached she and Mariella. Of course, Mariella was from here, and therefore already knew the steps to the dances they were learning, and thus made the perfect partner. Sarah was thankful at first, as Marie's all too appeasing demeanor was a much needed reprieve and outlet for her anger. However, that didn't end up counting for much, as Roldan continued to critique and holler at her to a T. He'd made her restart about five times now, and had cut her off to tell her how horrible she was doing intermittently about five-hundred.

And the thing was...she knew that he was acting so viciously towards her because Jareth had told him to, for the sole purpose of making her as angry as possible. Knowing this should have taken some of the edge off his insults, but she simply couldn't help it if being told how much of a piece of shit she was, was actually starting to make her feel like a piece of shit. And even though she shouldn't give a rat's ass about what Roldan thought of her, in truth his insults made her feel worse than any of Jareth's. And she thought that this was perhaps because she also knew that Jareth's command wasn't the only reason he was acting this way. She'd always known he didn't like her, from the very first moment they met; at least when Jareth was being mean he did it with a purpose, and she was pretty sure he kinda liked her. He had to if he was marrying her. But, to be genuinely and overtly hated by someone who barely even knew her, for reasons that were mostly out of her control? How could she not be affected by that? She hadn't asked for this. She didn't want to be here. They actually agreed on that, and yet he still blamed her for not getting over it fast enough, well it seemed neither was he.

The more he yelled at her, the more curious it became. His level of aggression was simply unwarranted, and it was starting to become more and more clear, to both she and Mariella, that he was using this as an opportunity to vent. Why would he need to vent at her so badly? What the hell had she done to him in the past twenty-four hours to make him hate her like this? Yes, there had always been disgruntlement, but she could have sworn there was still just a tiny bit of something cordial between them. Hmm... This new suspicion towards Roldan's mood helped distract her from her own injured feelings for a little while, but not even that was enough to mend her armor. Mariella seemed to be sensing this, from the way Sarah's gaze started to lower and soften each time Roldan would snap at her. And in an effort to retrieve her spirit before it plummeted, leaned in to whisper in her ear.

"Sarah...you know Master Roldan is only saying these things to upset you because he was ordered to do so, right?" she asked. Sarah peered up, but hadn't taken any conviction from those words. "So...instead of taking it all to heart, perhaps you should do as His Majesty so obviously intended, and use this opportunity to redirect your thoughts and focus on practicing controlling your anger, which Master Roldan has successfully brought out of you," she suggested, angling her head away from Roldan so he wouldn't see that they were talking. Sarah assumed the position.

"What do you mean, what Jareth so obviously intended?" she asked. The music started playing again, and so they were off.

"You mean you do not see? Well, it was my thought that His Majesty must be under a great deal of stress to be taking the brunt of all your aggression. After all, though the goal is to merely express your anger, why would he want you to hate him in the process? I merely assumed that His Majesty passed the torch onto Master Roldan so that it would cease to cause frictions between your own relationship. What is more, is that if you are angry at someone whose insults you need not take personally, like you might His Majesty's, it would be easier for you to focus and use this time to practice on your own. It's about redirecting stress, My Lady. I know you are a human, and I know that humans are ruled by their emotions, but this is a lesson on how to start processing through a situation with your head. Don't you see?" She whispered as they danced, going around and around the open floor plan without fault. Sarah didn't catch on to the fact that the only reason she hadn't messed up yet was because she was now focused on something else...

"I...I think so. That makes sense I guess. But I don't think Jareth is as tender-hearted as you're making him out to be. I'm pretty sure he just told Roldan to act like a fucking ass-hole so that I would feel cornered."

"Another word and I'll have you walking on needles!" Roldan's voice boomed from over yonder. Sarah scowled again and glared away. _Tch, as if he could actually do that..._

"Perhaps His Majesty is simply not as hard-hearted as you are making him out to be," Mariella whispered, watching Sarah's expression intently for the opening she'd been looking for. "See? There. That split second of distraction. Use that to organize your thoughts and emotions." Sarah nodded, about to close her eyes as they twirled.

"Stop. Is there a reason why you're sleeping, Sarah? Pay attention or I'll keep you here all night. Now start again." Sarah clenched her jaw and growled at yet another intrusion. She focused her eyes on Mariella's, and tried her best to ignore Roldan and instead envision holding shut that stupid stupid door.

* * *

The planks of the door nearly split by the force which Sarah let it slam behind her. Mariella placed a hand on it as if her cooing would rid it of the pain, then quickly scampered up to join her.

"Sarah, really now. Such immaturity will only spur more of his aggression," she scolded, keeping a wary eye out for any angry Fae who might chase after them. Sarah huffed and stomped on.

"Tch, don't bother Marie. I am not in the mood."

Mariella shot her an eye. It was more than obvious what kind of mood she was in.

"Just be thankful that Master Roldan chose not to keep you there all hours of the night as he threatened." Sarah glared at her then, not in a stable enough state of mind to be taking more scoldings from her as well. "I merely mean to say to try looking at the brighter side of things rather than the darker. Counting your blessings will always make you more fortunate than counting your sorrows," she explained. Sarah had no retort to this, knowing that her wisdom rang true, though she grumbled about it all the same.

"What you said about Jareth, how you think he's really doing all of this out of some twisted sense of compassion? I get what you're saying, and I would like that to be true, but I know him better than that. He's the type of person who thinks it's all fun and games until somebody gets hurt, though I have a feeling in his case it'd be more like until somebody gets physically and emotionally mutilated. All he does is push push push. Even if he knows what the limits are, he doesn't care, so long as his point is made."

"Well what do you expect? He is the authority over a greatly revered prime monarchy. He's been alone for so long without anyone to answer to. Not to mention these Goblins..."

"And that's supposed to justify him acting like a tyrannical, satanical ass-hole?" Sarah asked. Mariella pouted at her (she'd promised Roldan she would start putting tabs on all of Sarah's vulgarity).

"Perhaps not. It is however grounds to acknowledge that there are deeper fundamental misunderstandings other than you not wishing to be here."

"And what makes that worse is that _that_ is entirely his fault."

Mariella paused in the hall at her statement, staring after her for only a moment before Sarah herself then stopped and glanced back.

"What?" Sarah asked. Mariella looked at her confusedly.

"What do you mean that is his fault?" she repeated. This time Sarah blanched, glancing away as she thought back.

"The reason why I don't want to be here. It's his fault," she explained, quite vaguely. Mariella twisted her brow.

"May I ask-"

"The reason I'm so against being _here_ is because of the way I ended up _here_," she interrupted, as clearly as she could put it. It didn't seem to help Mariella's confusion. Sarah shrugged and rolled her eyes. She would really rather not have this discussion at the moment... "Ugh...Jareth kidnapped me. Not only that, he terrorized and threatened my family to corner me into coming here with him and forgot to tell me it was because he was planning to force me to marry him. Now, I'm not saying I would have come here of my own free will anyway, but there were plenty of other ways he could have gone about it." She'd glanced down as she spoke, unwilling to look Mariella in the eye, whose own gaze was only too eager to chase after it.

"So what you're saying is...if he hadn't taken away your room for option-"

"Then there would have been a much higher chance of me coming here of my own accord? Yes." Sarah opted to finish the thought. Mariella continued to look puzzled, only now she has a wry little twinkle in her eye.

"But...I don't understand. The way you speak and act towards him is-" Sarah rolled her eyes again.

" *Sigh* I don't hate him Marie. I hate what he's done. I hate what he does. And I hate what he wants to do. I...I can't believe I'm telling you this, but... I won't lie. There was a time when I really really liked Jareth. Like -a lot. And then...and then he had to go and ruin everything. He came in all domineering and conniving and had nothing but selfish thoughts on that one track brain of his and he just totally ripped whatever I thought he was to shreds. And I hate that about him. I absolutely hate it."

"But you don't hate him? Even after all those horrible things?" Marie asked, eager to probe as far as she could go. Sarah slumped against a wall. When did this conversation get so serious?

"I mean...I should. I'm pissed about it. But, I can't overlook the way I felt before all that happened. It's still there. There might be mountains of rage and anger and angst piled up on top of it, but it's still there. And no matter how hard I try I can't just make that go away. Even if I wanted to."

"You mean you don't want to?"

"No...I don't. I...ok, this is getting really deep, really fast. I'm just gonna lay it all out for you. I was kidnapped, I get that. I'm stuck here, I get that too. I also get that I need to get over it and move on from the fact. And since I'm going to be spending the rest of my life with him I think it would be beneficial to me if I did indeed have some more cordial feelings towards him. He's supposed to be my other half right? Shouldn't I like the other half of myself? Shouldn't I be able to get along and be happy with it? I think I should. And I want to. It's just...it's still too fresh. It's...it's all just very complicated right now." Mariella nodded as if she understood, the truth however was that she was now more confused and unsure than ever. How many layers were there to this strange little relationship? Why was it so complex to begin with? Hmm...Davion would want a full report on this... She wasn't sure what he'd meant when he gave her that order, but now she was starting to understand, though the reason why he would care for such was still cloudy.

"You feel uncertainty in regards to your claiming...have you told him such?" she asked. Sarah peered up from watching her toes draw circles in the dust on the floor.

"Actually, yes I have. I have told him that things may have been different if he had just tried to court me like any normal man. And you know what he said? He said that he doesn't _swoon women_. That women _come in droves and croon at his feet and he could pick any one of them, so why should I be any different_? _He's a King and King's do what they want and don't care about asking questions._ Can you believe that? All he thinks of is himself and what will work out best for him. He couldn't even spare a single thought towards me, not even to realize that he didn't have to be so horrible..." Sarah's head lowered again, though this time Mariella smiled.

"Well Sarah, what do you expect? He is a King after all." Sarah looked back up. "And as a King, where the most meager of decisions could have the most profound impact, it would only make sense that he does what he thinks is necessary to meet a desired goal in the quickest, easiest, and most sure way possible without any room for foul. He was not designed to try things two or three times over. He must always succeed the first time around, and so has been conditioned to _always_ succeed. And in my mind, it is always better to over-estimate your opponent rather than underestimate them. So, it kind of makes sense that his means were a bit over-bearing. He can't always afford the risk of having there be outside variables. His action towards you was simple economics," she explained. Sarah's dreary expression began to brighten.

"You mean my possible feelings towards him were an outside variable that he couldn't risk letting into the stupid equation that he calls our relationship?!" she asked, mildly stricken with the way Mariella was suddenly smirking like she knew something Sarah didn't.

"But of course. Say he did go about his conquest the way you would have preferred; what do you think it would have meant if he had gone through all the trouble and time if you had said no anyway?" she asked. Sarah straightened a little off the wall.

"I-uhh..."

"Do you know what your answer would have been?"

"Uhm...not definitely..." Sarah murmured.

"Exactly, neither did His Majesty. So, when presented with a high-pressure situation where the desired outcome is anything but certain, what is the most practical thing to do? Remove those uncertainties, leaving nothing but the desired outcome," she began to explain, but Sarah rose a hand to stop her.

"Alright, I know where you're going with this and I'm going to tell you now not to even bother trying to rationalize his actions to me. I really, really don't want to hear it."

"...Very well." Mariella closed her mouth, but continued on smirking, happy with the thought that the seed had already been laid in Sarah's conscience. She turned, a signal that was soon followed by Sarah as she leaned up off the wall and resumed walking down the corridor. Hmm...perhaps all the frustration festering within these walls was a frustration of another sort...

"I'm not in the right frame of mind to be talking about this stuff anyway. It's all just so irritating. I need a good run -long and hard. I hope you're up for it," Sarah said. Mariella blanched.

"Excuse me?"

  



	58. The Road To Nowhere, part 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While unbeknown to her, Sarah has succeeded in obtaining the one thing the Goblin King has desired for hundreds of years -power over the Labyrinth. After being hidden for years from his diabolical wrath, Sarah finds herself alone and vulnerable as Jareth's dark desires are finally aloud to rear their ugly heads. As always, the only question is, are things really as they seem?

The remainder of the walk back to Sarah's room was spent with talk and anticipation of the mysterious _jogging_ which Mariella was soon to be introduced to. By the time they reached their destination Sarah was pleased to find her angst thoroughly distracted and found herself actually laughing as she opened the door.

"Oh, come on. You're making it sound like hard labor," she said, laughing at the expression Mariella's face had quickly twisted into.

"Forgive me, but I still fail to understand why in the world you would subject yourself to such activities."

"For the tenth time, it's good for you. Builds muscle, gets the blood pumpin. And it's fun."

"Fun?" Mariella asked, abhorred, snarling her lip to boot as she trailed behind Sarah as they moved through the room towards the bed.

"Well, I think it's fun," Sarah shot back, moving to stand before the magic armoire. Mariella furrowed her brow.

"You must come from a strange world indeed, to consider running with no intent _fun_," she said. Sarah shot her a pout.

"There is intent. The intent is to exercise your body," she informed, and then disappeared to rummage through the contents of the closet. Mariella watched with a sense of odd eagerness.

"Again, why would you ever feel the need to do that?" she asked. This time, Sarah didn't even bother with a retort, residing to simply shake her head, and smirked to herself as she reemerged from the silky depths. She turned back to Mariella with a sly gaze.

"I'll right off that ghastly tone of yours as culture shock," she said, and closed to closet door. Mariella teetered expectantly, but momentarily blanched when Sarah then held out some sort of garment for her to take. Sarah continued to eye her down, and then cocked her an eyebrow when she still hesitated. "Go on. It won't bite, I swear," she said, practically tossing the pile at her, and turned away to search for her own clothing.

And so Mariella stood, fumbling with the tiny bits of fabric Sarah had tossed at her, and hadn't the slightest clue what to do with it. She pulled out one article in particular, eyeing it strangely as she tried to figure out what it was. She looked back up to Sarah to find her retrieving something similar.

"May I ask what this is?" she asked. Sarah shut the drawer to one of her dressers and turned back to face her.

"Shorts and a tank top. It's hot out -what? You didn't think you were going to be running around in that dress did you? Now that would be something ridiculous..." she asked, with a lopsided smirk as she took in Mariella's growing bewilderment, and continued to watch her as she herself then bent down to start removing her boots.

"You wish for me to change?" she asked, her eyes reflexively following Sarah's boots as she flung them off into the corner of the room.

"Uh, yea. You can use the bathroom if you want some privacy," she said, not bothering to worry about her own privacy as she began undoing the buttons on her vest. Years of team sports had gotten her used to changing in front of other women (it was being exposed in front of the other sex , i.e. Jareth, that really bothered her). Mariella gawked like a fish out of water and began glancing about the room as if searching for an escape. "Hey, you're the one who wanted to learn more about my culture. What better way than to actually experience it?" she tacked on for reassurance.

"Um...very well," was all Mariella could really muster, lowering her head in confused shame as she bustled into the washroom.

Sarah was already stretching by the time she came out again; It'd been almost ten minutes, but she'd assumed she would probably take a while. Oh boy, was this little adventure going to be fun. Maybe this was how Jareth felt when he was messing with her cultural insecurities? Hm, having the upper hand really was a satisfying feeling. She tried to tell herself she wasn't going to torture poor Marie with this however. Any amusement she took from this little exploit, possibly at Mariella's expense, was going towards a good cause -helping her distract herself from all her turmoils. And again, a voice in the back of Sarah's head whispered that perhaps this was how Jareth felt, using her as a distraction from his own issues...she chose to ignore that voice. Those were the very intrusions she was trying to be rid of.

She let go of her toes and looked up, and found herself unable to restrain the instant smile that consumed her face at what she saw.

Now, Sarah had a pretty good mental image of what she expected to see when Mariella finally vacated the bathroom, though it became quickly apparent that her imagination, in this instance anyway, was lacking by far. Mariella was a tall, thin woman, traits which were only exemplified by Sarah's modern day Aboveground-esque booty shorts and tank top combo. And it was obvious from a mile away that the two didn't and should never mix. She was such a beautiful woman, and seeing her body so exposed should have made Sarah feel a bit more self-conscious about her own figure; but there was just too much awkwardness vibrating between the Fae-nymph's olive skin and Sarah's cottony wife-beater to even leave that as an issue for concern. But what was the real icing on the cake, were all the swirling tribal markings slithering all over those willowy exposed arms and legs of hers. She was so exotic, such an oddity, right down to her pointed ears, and seeing her there, gawking in a track uniform... Sarah just couldn't take it seriously. She wobbled out of the bathroom, feeling more awkward and uncomfortable than she had in her entire life, and met Sarah's gaze with a very sad expression on her face, waiting for her verdict. Sarah rose to her feet and practically hopped her way over towards her.

"Oh my...Marie, you look dashing," was all she could get out without bursting into laughter first. Mariella continued to look over herself, leaving her arms held out away from her as if she might somehow contaminate herself. Sarah had to bite the inside of her cheek just to stifle back a giggle.

"Sarah...is this really appropriate attire?" Mariella asked, timidly picking at her shirt. Sarah meanwhile, was too busy marveling to register her disgust.

"Yes. This is how people dress where I'm from," she said, taking a step back to get a better view. Mariella snarled her lip.

"Really? This is the level of fashion for one such as yourself?"

"Well...yeah? I mean...not for a Queen, if that's what you're saying. I told you, I was a commoner in my world. And this is how we dress when we exercise."

"I see..." Mariella mumbled, trying to her best not to accidentally offend her Queen by saying anything too blunt. Sarah gave her an eye and turned back towards the dressers. Mariella followed, then halted once Sarah was back in the midst of her closets. "What more are you searching for?" she asked.

"Shoes," Sarah answered, her voice achieving a slight echo affect from behind all her lonely dresses. Mariella nodded and stepped around her. She caught her reflection in the vanity and leaned in, her gaze wide and her brow drawn tight as she examined herself. She really, really didn't understand... Her eyes lowered and caught on something wedged into the frame of the mirror.

"Is this painting of your family?" she asked. Sarah paused, momentarily deadpanned as she stood hunched over, half-lost in her closet. She backed out slowly, a small frown already seared to her face.

"Excuse me?" she asked, looking over to find Mariella completely engrossed in the picture stuck in her mirror. She nearly twitched when she watched her reach out and run the tip of her finger down it.

"This little painting, is it of your family?" she repeated.

"It's not a painting. It's a photograph...and yes, that's my family," she said, causing Mariella to glance up at the sound of distant woe in her voice.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you-" she started to say, straightening herself up after catching a glimpse of the frown marring her Queen's lips. Sarah drew her brow and shrugged it all away.

"No. No, it's fine. Really. That's my dad, and my step-mom Karen, and my brother Toby. I told you about him..." She tried her best to reassure Mariella she was not at fault, but both knew otherwise. Mariella gave her a look of sympathy and turned back towards the photo.

"Yes, I remember. They are all very beautiful. I can tell you held great love for one another," she said.

"Thank you...we do. I mean we did..." Mariella frowned further, and in a last ditch attempt to divert the conversation, changed directions.

"What is a photograph?" she asked. Sarah seemed to perk up a little, and fluttered her eyelashes as she tried to clear her head.

"It's uh...Hmm..." She tried, but Sarah soon found it rather difficult to come up with an accurate definition of what a photograph actually was. Hmm... "Actually, I'm not quite sure. It's like a painting, only it's made from a machine that uses light to print an image on a slide or piece of paper...I guess. I don't really know how it works exactly," she explained, as best she could. Luckily, this seemed to sate Mariella's curiosity.

"I see. Very interesting. We do not have such machines in our world," she said, glancing away while Sarah finally dislodged the pairs of sneakers she had been looking for.

"Yea...in my world, we don't have magic like there is here, so we've had to create machines to do things. We're pretty dependent on technology and science."

"Science?" Mariella asked, earning her a curious eye from Sarah as she handed her her shoes.

"Yeah. I'm guessing you guys don't really know all that much about the sciences. Since you have magic, I assume the rules for that kind of thing are different anyway. Here, I hope these fit."

Mariella took the shoes with just as much hesitation as she had the outfit, observing Sarah for cues as to what to do next, but drew her brow when she plopped herself in the middle of the floor. Not knowing what else to do, she reluctantly joined.

Sarah was thankful that Mariella already knew how to lace up her own shoes or things may have gotten a bit ridiculous. She sat indian-style on the floor, pulling the loops of her laces good and tight, inconspicuously watching Mariella do the same. There was a new silence, providing Sarah the opening to voice something which had been nagging at her all morning.

"Hey, Marie-"

"Yes?"

"I was wondering about something that happened this morning."

"What would that be, My Lady?" she asked. Sarah cast her gaze to the floor, trying to recall, in precise detail, the instance in question.

"This morning, when Roldan introduced himself to you- He bowed to you," she said, glancing back up at her. Mariella tilted her head slightly.

"Yes," she affirmed. Sarah shrugged and exhaled through her nose.

"Well, it's just that I know women aren't supposed to bow to men, but when you came here with Jareth, you bowed to him. And then there was something Roldan said, he said: _and since you no longer have any authority over me, neither then does your servant_. I'm just a little confused is all..." she said. Mariella smiled.

"Oh, well, there is really no reason to look so uncomfortable, Sarah. Yes, you are correct in that women in our society are to never bow to a man. However, that is only true within your selective class." This time, it was Sarah who cocked her head. "I am a member of the lower aristocracy. Therefore, even though I am female, I must still yield to my social superiors, both male and female, such as Your Majesties."

"But what about Roldan? I don't understand. If you're a servant, why would he bow to you? Are you saying you have greater authority here than Jareth's right-hand man?" she asked. Mariella rose a hand to hide her giggle.

"Sarah, don't forget, although I am a servant I am still highborn. I chose this path, and believe me that does in fact count for something. Master Roldan...even given his position, was born into servitude, this alone gives me higher position than he could ever have. Also, your concept of servant seems to be different than ours. I am a maiden of the Queen. As far as that goes, I hold just as much, if not more stature than Master Roldan regardless of his sex or royal affiliations." Sarah had leaned forward as she spoke, gawking like it were Christmas in July.

"Really? You're telling me I have that much authority over Jareth's lackeys? Even my servants!" she nearly exclaimed. Mariella straightened up a little.

"Well, you are the Queen after all, haven't you begun to grasp what that means? But don't get excited too quickly. You saw how easy it was for His Majesty to supersede your own authority and then re-administer it to Master Roldan. The woman of the household is always held in the greatest esteem, though even she is ruled over by her husband. So long as His Majesty does not say otherwise, you truly do have run of the household." It seemed this conversation were turning into a lecture seminar. Sarah sat back, deeply contemplative. She kept hearing how much power she had as a Queen, but for some reason she thought she was always going to be bullied by both Jareth and Roldan. But now? Now she knew that not only she really did have the power to tell Roldan to go fuck himself, but so did her servants! Maybe that was why he was so grumpy? It must be pretty hard getting bumped down to third and now fourth in the castle power structure. So long as Jareth didn't interfere, it was panning up that Sarah had a lot more freedoms than she realized.

"Hmm..." Sarah murmured, needing time to process this information and all the possibilities it could yield, but now was not the time. No, right now they were wasting precious time which could be spent on more progressive means. She stood, offering Mariella a hand to lift her up as well. "Alright, we should get a move on before it gets dark out," she said and made way for the exit.

"And where are we to go dressed like this?" Mariella asked, closing the door behind them as they reentered the hall. Sarah glanced back.

"Well, first we have to go find Jareth," she said. Mariella's head twitched in reflex.

"May I ask why?" Sarah smirked at the way she kept saying that phrase, asking to ask a question, she shook her head subtly and pursed her lips.

"I have to tell him we're going out or he'll have a fit. He always seems to have an eye on me, and I'd rather not have him popping down when he's least wanted. Better to just go find him and get it over with," she said, waving her hands up in the air with slight exasperation. Mariella tried not to look concerned.

"Do you know where to find him?" she asked. Sarah shrugged.

"No. But I can't imagine there's too many places he'd be. He's been pretty busy lately, so I guess we can start in the throne room."


	59. The Road To Nowhere, part 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While unbeknown to her, Sarah has succeeded in obtaining the one thing the Goblin King has desired for hundreds of years -power over the Labyrinth. After being hidden for years from his diabolical wrath, Sarah finds herself alone and vulnerable as Jareth's dark desires are finally aloud to rear their ugly heads. As always, the only question is, are things really as they seem?

Much to Sarah's disappointment, for all the bumbling maniacs running amuck in the throne room, their King was not one of them. Sarah stood in the doorway, hands on hips as she surveyed the area. Nope, definitely not a Goblin King in sight. She took a few steps across the threshold and continued to look around as if he might be hiding somewhere up in the rafters. For all she knew, he might very well be. Meanwhile, Mariella tried her best not to touch any of the ragged Goblins as the fumbled passed.

"Okay...so throne room is a no go," Sarah murmured to herself, her gaze becoming distracted on a couple of Goblins as they were chased by a chicken about the room.

"Do you know of any other place he might be?" Mariella asked, deeply wishing to vacate the room as quickly as possible. Sarah thought a moment.

"Hmm...one of the studies maybe...or the library. I've seen him do work in there..."

"Pardon me, Sarah, but you said he always has an eye on you. Shouldn't that mean that he knows you are looking for him? Couldn't you simply try summoning him?" she suggested. Sarah glanced back.

"No way. Sorry, you might not understand, but there's no way I would try summoning Jareth here. It'd be like I'm asking something of him rather than simply telling him of my plans. I know him, if I were to somehow spirit him away here he'd try to make some kind of bargain. No, it's better if we find him the old fashion way," she explained, correct in her assumption that Mairella indeed did not understand. Were they really so spiteful of one another? She was distracted however, when Sarah then bent down and called the attention of the nearest Goblin. "Say, excuse me," she asked. She Goblin came to a terrified, screeching halt and gave her its full attention.

"Y-yes, My Queen!?" it exclaimed. Sarah smiled at it to ease its anxiety.

"You wouldn't happen to know where the King is, do you?" she asked. The little Goblin jittered, as if the question was an extremely difficult one.

"I-uhhhhhhhhhh, no. No, My Lady, I does not know where the King is," it answered. Sarah frowned and looked around the room.

"Hmm..." She stood so they would hear her better. "Do any of you know where Jareth is?" she asked, a bit loudly. The ruckus of the room quieted as dozens of beady eyes turned in her direction.

"Uhhmmmmmm, where this King is?" was the general consensus. Sarah began to grow puzzled then. Why was that such a difficult question? That was when she felt Mariella's hand on her shoulder. She glanced back curiously at Mariella's knowing smile. She took a step forward and whispered,

"May I try?" Sarah nodded and stepped to the side. "Pardon, but would any of you happen to know where the King has gone to?" she asked. Sarah drew her brow further, not understanding what about her question was any different from her own, and then upgraded to greatly confused when numerous Goblins then began clamoring for the chance to answer.

"The King went to the Council Chamber!"

"Yes! Yes! In the south wing of the castle!"

"Mhm, that where he gone to!"

Sarah turned her bemused expression back to Mariella.

"What? Why did that work for you and not for me?" she asked. Mariella turned back with a smug little grin.

"Why Sarah, all you needed to do was ask them the right question," she said. Sarah started to scowl.

"What do you mean the right question?"

"You asked them where His Majesty _is_. But, they could not possibly know where His Majesty is at this very moment. So, what you should have asked is where he had gone to, his once intended destination. See the difference?" she asked, and rose her brow a little at the way Sarah began to grumble to herself.

"Yeah, yeah. I get it. Alright, can we please get a move on now?" she asked, rather grumpily and turned on a dime as she stalked out of the room. _This stupid place and it's stupid quirks...UGH!_

* * *

Sarah was surprised to find that she remembered where the room the Goblins had said was exactly, and again marveled at the magic the castle had to make her learn it. The walk over had been a quiet one, but now that they were nearing their destination, Sarah found herself slowing. Another worry had been worming its way out of her psyche the closer they got to where Jareth was supposedly at, something she'd been telling herself not to bother with all day, and yet, as the silence in the hall perturbed, it seemed to press more and more heavily on her. She knew the door would be right around the next corner, and something inside her was urging her to clear the air before that happened. She faltered in her step and glanced partially over her shoulder, though very purposefully avoiding Mariella's gaze.

"Marie...before we go in, there was one more thing I was wondering about..." she said. Mariella tilted her head in an innocent gesture for her to proceed. Sarah tried not to come off as uneasy, so she turned her head back around and stared straight out in front of her. "Yesterday...when you said Jareth _disciplined_ you-"

"Sarah, please. I told you not to fret about that. The fault was mine-"

"Yes, I know. Jareth told me..." Sarah slowed to a near halt at the end of that thought. Mariella began to grow concerned. "Jareth said the reason why he did those awful things to you was because you...uhm..."

"Sarah?" Mariella urged. Sarah gave a fake smile and looked up to her.

"You told me Davion told you how to best act around Jareth, and that he lied to you with the intention of making Jareth angry. You didn't tell me it was because you came on to him," she blurted, like ripping off a bandaid. For some reason, a reason she still couldn't shake, she felt deeply unsettled that someone else, Mariella or otherwise, would solicit Jareth like that. And although it should have, it didn't really help that Jareth had turned her down, though she was deeply grateful all the same. Was she really jealous? It didn't feel like jealously. It felt like something worse than that. Just the thought of Jareth being with someone else evoked a sense of woe within her that she knew was the crux of all her insecurities. If Jareth was going to put her through all this, than she'd damn well better be the sole focus of his attentions. It was a strange rationalization, but it was honest, and the one she was feeling. And in truth, she wasn't angry or upset with Mariella, and held no ill-will towards her in the slightest. It was just this feeling...she wanted it more than gone. She wanted it to have never existed in the first place.

Mariella observed Sarah's subtle mannerisms with growing displeasure, but only had a slight comprehension of it.

"Yes. I did make myself available to him should he feel the desire," she said, plainly. Sarah frowned harder.

"Because Davion told you to?" she probed. Mariella tilted her head to one side.

"Well, yes. But, as a servant of the castle, it would be me obligation to offer myself to the King to use at his leisure," she explained, only sending another mystery pang through Sarah's chest. She sucked it up however, and straightened her back.

"So, you only did it because it was your duty?" she asked, trying to find a way to console herself over the matter. Again, Mariella didn't fully understand the issue.

"Of course."

"And he turned you down?" Sarah asked further, and from the look in her eye it seemed she was pleading to Mariella for something.

"Quite clearly, yes," she stated, then went on to try to salvage the mood from whatever strange anxiety which was now occupying the air around them. "His Majesty has demonstrated his strict devotion to you. It is tradition that the male in all marriages remain monogamous unless specifically yielded by the wife...though again, tradition is but that, a tradition. In today's age, it is rather difficult for a notion to hold any bound over the individual, such ideologies are to be considered old fashioned now; hence why it is common place for the King to bed servants regardless of his wife's permission. So you see, I was speaking truth when I said His Majesty is a true traditionalist," she explained, but Sarah only heard one very specific part of that speech.

"Wait...you mean Jareth can't sleep with anyone else unless I say it's okay? What? Why would I do that?" she asked. Mariella rose her brow and glanced around the dusty corridor.

"Sarah, are you sure this is a conversation you wish to engage in now?" she asked, making an obvious implication towards both the location and the time. Sarah opened her mouth to speak, a very large _Hell yes I want to have this conversation now!_ when something caught her attention.

She'd heard something, coming from somewhere down the hall. It was low, barely an echo, but its presence was alien enough to catch and distract her. She darted her head away from Mariella on instinct, and furrowed her brow at the shadows of the corridor, then glared when the sound came again, louder this time. Completely forgetting their eminent conversation, Sarah turned and started after the sound. Mariella blinked and tried to skip up.

"Sarah, what are you-"

"Shhh," Sarah interrupted, her senses fine tuning onto the mysterious echo. It started to become clearer as she moved. It sounded like...a voice. "Do you hear that?" she asked. Mariella shook her head, baffled with the shortness of Sarah's attention span.

"Hear what?" she asked, and nearly toppled over the Queen when Sarah stopped dead.

"That voice. It sounds like a woman," she said, and focused all her energy on the voice's epicenter, and felt her adrenaline flare when she realized she was heading straight for the room Jareth was supposed to be in. Mariella blinked a couple of times, then rose her head to try to pick up what ever sound Sarah was talking about. "I think it's coming from the council room. Come on, but be quiet," Sarah said and hunkered her shoulders down as if on the prowl, only furthering Mariella's confusion.

"Sarah, why are we sneaking all of the sudden?" she whispered, giving in to lower her posture in much the same way as Sarah.

"Shh. I can hear it getting louder. That's definitely a woman's voice."

"Why does that matter?" Mariella asked. Sarah rose a hand in a signal for her to stop behind her. They'd just reached the door.

"Because there aren't supposed to be any other women in the castle." she explained, lying just a tad. The truth was, there was just one other woman loitering about the castle -Liana. And as Sarah creeped along the wall, she couldn't help but fantasize that it was in fact she who was speaking on the other side of the door. And if that were so, there was no way she could pass up the opportunity to spy on whatever she and Jareth were saying. She'd never seen the two of them together, and had only ever heard one's vague opinion on the other. She still wasn't sure if she could fully trust Liana yet, so whatever she was able to overhear within the next few seconds was crucial to her. She ignored Mariella's confusion and pressed her ear against the door.

* * *

"Is there a reason why you're raising your voice?"

"Perhaps I'm feeling a bit out of sorts. You've had me at it for days now, after all."

"Since when did you learn how to complain? Don't forget, it was your fault in the first place."

"No. It was yours. And it will only continue to worsen should you not tell her."

Whoa. Sarah froze like a plank, her eyes growing wide and her auditory senses never stronger. It seemed she'd showed up at just the right time. She could tell now that it was indeed Liana speaking, as well as Jareth. She wondered what in the world they were talking about. Mariella stood a few feet away, unable to understand what was even going on.

"Don't you even start with that again. I will handle Sarah and you will handle yourself."

"This isn't right, Jareth. She needs to know. She needs to know about herself, and about...us."

Okay. Whoa. Whoawhoawhoa. What the hell was that? Sarah's minor adrenaline shot spiked after hearing that. Her fingers tingled against the door and all the little hairs on the back of her neck stood. Why had that comment made her feel so anxious? What? She forced her fluster away, however, much too eager to miss whatever was said next, but was a little put off when the next sound was that of Jareth laughing.

"Oh, my dear, this facade of yours really is quite unbecoming. You really expect me to believe a few little emotions run astray have put you in such disarray? Unless you have anything important to say, I suggest you get on with yourself and do your job. It's been most inconvenient sneaking about with you, as I'd rather keep our meetings to a minimal. I have a job to do as well."

Sarah found herself frowning as she listened in. While she still didn't have half a clue as to what they were really talking about, the nuance of their phrasing had put a definite sour on her mood. Why the heck was she so possessive over Jareth anyway? Ugh. She heard some shuffling around then, and realized Liana must be getting ready to leave. Shit. Shit. She couldn't just sit there and let her leave. No way. She needed to see this for herself, to finally confront the two on their weird little relationship.

Her decision was made in a nanosecond, one-hundred percent compelled by panic and impulse. She reached up and threw the door open. Her expression was fierce, and her heart was pounding. She had no idea what she'd planned on doing next, but even so was thrown for a loop to find the room empty, empty of everything except for Jareth that is, who sat oh-so-impeccantly at the head of a table.

  



	60. The Road To Nowhere, part 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While unbeknown to her, Sarah has succeeded in obtaining the one thing the Goblin King has desired for hundreds of years -power over the Labyrinth. After being hidden for years from his diabolical wrath, Sarah finds herself alone and vulnerable as Jareth's dark desires are finally aloud to rear their ugly heads. As always, the only question is, are things really as they seem?

He was writing something down on a spreadsheet, sitting so calmly, and writing so smoothly, it was like he'd been doing so for the past hour without hitch. It took him a minute to look up to her, with an expression so well rehearsed she nearly threw herself at him.

"Why Sarah, what a lovely surprise. So you were able to find me. Is there something the matter? You're looking quite vehement," he said, giving her the most candid, open-hearted eye to date. Sarah gripped the knob of the door as she straightened herself up. So, he was going to play it off like nothing happened? Fine, she could wrangle some pseudo-debonair herself. She let out a breath to settle her nerves and took a step into the room, signaling Mariella to follow. Jareth became more interested then, actually leaning forward and looking around her to get a better view of the pair. "I thought she was supposed to be influencing you? Not the other way around," he said, raking his eyes up and down the two. How in the world did she get the Masochist to wear that? Apparently, he hadn't noticed Sarah's glare yet.

"Who were you just talking to?" she asked, much more angrily than she wanted. She crossed her arms over her chest just to help wrangle herself in. Jareth rose a brow at her.

"No one," he answered. Sarah rolled her eyes.

"Bull. I know I heard you talking just now." She was starting to tap her foot. Jareth began to look around the room nonchalantly.

"Well, as you can see, Sarah, there is no one else here," he said. Sarah clenched her jaw and stepped towards him.

"I know Liana was here," she said, accusingly, and ceased her stomping once she occupied most of his view. Jareth's innocent gaze hardened somewhat, and he leaned back in his seat. He didn't answer her right away, but looked over to the side and locked gazes with Mariella. She didn't need to be told what to do, and quickly left the room.

The door shut quietly behind her.

Once Mariella was gone, Jareth leaned back further, entwining his fingers and twiddling his thumbs as he regarded her.

"Well?" Sarah prompted.

"Well, what?" he retorted. Sarah huffed and rolled her eyes.

"I know Liana was here. I heard what you were talking about," she said, not quite noticing the way his body stiffened just then. He started to sit up again.

"Oh really?" was all he said.

"Yes. So I think it's pretty cheap that you're going to sit there and lie about it to my face," she snarled. Jareth let out a low exhale and moved as if he were about to stand.

"Sarah-"

"What does she want you to tell me Jareth? And why are you trying to keep it such a big secret?" she snapped, her fingers starting to dig into her forearms. She was getting worked up much more quickly than she would have wished. He regarded her shrewdly before formulating an answer. "What did she say...something about _us_, was it? What exactly is going on between you two? And don't you dare even think of lying to me." Jareth's stare was fire and stone.

"Sarah, come here," he commanded, whatever trace of blind ambivalence now gone. Sarah ground her teeth.

"No."

"Come here now or you're going to sincerely regret it," he warned. Sarah faltered for a split second, her feet inching forward of their own volition, but she caught herself fast.

"Why? So you can claw all over me? No thank you, I feel much safer over here," she said, raising her nose up at him. Jareth began to clench his fists.

"I don't care how you feel. Get over here this instant before I throw you over this table." His voice was louder now, his expression icy but his eyes ablaze. Sarah wavered a little further.

"...Promise you won't and I will," she said, trying her best to compromise, knowing that it probably wouldn't help in the slightest if his impatience with her was serious. He didn't answer right away, simply staring her down like he was trying to scream at her with thought alone.

"...Now," he finally said, his body growing more and more tense as he regarded her. Sarah started to fidget, darting her eyes about the room as if one of the shadows might miraculously whisk her away. Geez, what was he so mad about? He was the one who'd been caught lying after all. She gulped and looked at the floor as she slowly stepped towards him, though stopped just out of arm's reach. That didn't seem to matter however, as all Jareth had to do was lean forward to reach out and clamp his hand around her wrist.

He squeezed until she gasped, and yanked her towards him so fast she tripped and fell to her knees.

"Ah- hey!" she yelped, wincing when her knees hit the floor. She didn't have the time to take back her equilibrium when his free hand took hold of her neck. His thumb and index finger hooked under her jaw, making it painful for her to jerk away, and pulled their faces together.

"If you ever come in here and assume such authority as to bewail and scorn over my affairs, I will have no problem wringing all those nasty words out of that pretty little neck," he said, his voice full of venom and conviction. Sarah snarled at him.

"Ow. Jareth, stop it. That hurts!" she complained, seeming to have completely glossed over his threat. He jerked her in closer.

"Do I need to make an example out of you?" He asked, angling her head at such an awkward position that she had to lean forward and place her free hand on his leg just for balance.

" *Cough* No," she whined.

"Secondly, you don't ever -EVER- attempt to spy on me again-"

"Well how else am I supposed to figure anything out!? No one will tell me anything." She whimpered when his fingers moved up her cheek and dug in harder.

"I don't believe I was finished speaking," he snapped. "You have no business meddling in my affairs. What I choose to tell you is only what you need to know. Understood?"

"How am I supposed to help you rule when you won't tell me anything?" she asked.

"Your role is much different than mine." There was a rumble to his voice, a foreboding one, one that implied everything she didn't want to face. His grip loosened one her slightly, knowing his words would hold more of an impact that his force. Sarah narrowed her eyes.

"Oh, that's right, I'm a wife first and a Queen second. How could I forget? All you really want from me is a receptacle to spit out the next generation of your damned namesake." She took a deep breath when his aura darkened, his eyes sharpening dangerously. Ooh, she must have struck a nerve.

Without a word, Jareth stood, yanking Sarah up with him, and turned to slam her face down on the table. He held her one arm to the table, and moved the hand at her jaw to the nape of her neck and pressed his body against hers, leaning as close as possible. Sarah had to stop herself from yelling out he'd just promised not to do that.

"How dare you disgrace and defile your name with such blasphemies," he snarled, completely throwing her for a loop. She forgot her discomfort for a moment as she tried to register what exactly he was angry about. "If you think all I want you for is to bear me a child, then I have really given you more credit to your worth." His fist tightened in her hair, and the other released her arm to reach down between her legs. She choked on a breath when his hand clenched around her sex. "I could have you any way I want, any time I want, as often as I want. I could keep you here, have my wicked way with you, then send you gimping back to your room with a smile on my face. Any intelligent being might think that the absence of this behavior might lean one towards the idea that my desire for you has absolutely nothing to do with _inane fucking_." He was practically growling at her, his hand hot between her legs. Sarah squirmed beneath him, but the force with which he had her hips digging into the rim of the table inhibited any real amount of effort. She closed her eyes and tried to calm down. This wasn't what she was expecting. What exactly was he mad about?

"Then what is it you want from me?" she asked, through gritted teeth.

"What I want is a woman who actually comprehends what it means to be in a position such as yourself. If you actually took the time to think, you might realize that the reason I don't inform you on my affairs isn't because I want to keep you an ignorant plaything, but because you don't yet have the capability to understand and therefore react accordingly to my qualms. Why do you think I've had Roldan hounding every little detail of my realm unto you? If all I wanted from you was your cunt and my spawn I would have had it by now you foolish little girl." Sarah wanted to say something, but her words came out as no more than muffled whimpers as he applied more and more pressure onto her. "You come in here on a war path, accusing, commanding, spying on the King, without a thought as to any implications. Did you really think this to be permissible behavior? Have you learned nothing from your time here?" he asked. Sarah tried to lean up off the table. She didn't get too far.

"Actually, I've learned plenty. Like the fact that as soon as I asked whatever it is Liana wants you to tell me, you go into a blood curdling rage and change the subject completely. What are you keeping from me Jareth? Why have you been _sneaking around the castle_ with her? What is going on between you two?" she asked, knowing that if she let this get any more out of hand her initial question would never get answered. In a twisted kind of way, in this moment, she was actually thankful for all his crazy outbursts; she was starting to get used to them, and therefore was beginning to be able to operate through them with a more level head.

There was a pause, a noticeable one, as Jareth hovered on the verge of a small epiphany. All this time, he'd been trying to buy time so he could think of a story to give her that would accurately explain whatever bit of conversation she had overheard between him and Liana. He had hoped that his aggression would be enough to distract her from the issue altogether, though it seemed she was learning after all. He relaxed his hand in her hair at what she said, realizing that she'd just given him the perfect scape goat.

"Sarah...that wouldn't be jealously I hear in your voice, would it?" he asked, dark and dangerously, with just a twinge of salacious malevolence. Sarah twitched. What? No-

"Please, don't flatter yourself," she said, squirming more strongly now. Jareth smiled at the back of her head.

"Ah, I see now. That's what this is about. You think I've been sneaking around to play with Liana rather than you, is that it?" he asked, goading her further. Sarah snarled.

"I don't know. You tell me. Why else would you be needing to sneak around?"

And that's when it clicked. The reason for this entire confrontation. He had been wondering why Liana had been speaking so strangely just then. She was raising her voice and choosing words that could be easily manipulated. That must have been it then...

For the passed few days now, Jareth had found himself wading in a very inconvenient predicament of sorts. Apparently, the day Liana had come to him in warning of her own instability due to Sarah's various emotions indeed held some truth. And it seemed that this threat worsened in accordance to Sarah's own emotional instability. Deep down, he'd caught on right away, but simply hadn't wanted to admit it. For the passed several days, during the time of Sarah menstrual cycle to be exact, the Labyrinth had been feeding off immense amounts of erratic energy from Sarah, which caused dramatic spikes and lulls within the natural equilibrium of the Labyrinth and surrounding land. Like the issue with the city wall, various, seemingly random parts of the Labyrinth were crumbling, reforming, creating minor catastrophe's among the people, etc. It had taken most of his time and attention to work with Liana on trying to resolve it, as Liana was the only one who could, though it had been anything but easy. There was still a mountain's worth of tension between the two, which both attempted to overlook for the time being and focus on _business_. What a fun week this had been. Things had been winding down recently however, as Sarah's cycle had ended and thus Liana was starting to level herself out. Now all that remained was rebuilding the last of the damaged areas. With that said, every now and then Liana would exhibit very bizarre human outbursts -the display just now he'd written off as one of them. But that wasn't it. Well, not entirely.

While Jareth liked to keep an eye on her, only Liana had a tangible connection to Sarah. She could sense her whereabouts, her mood, and to some degree her very thoughts. This was one of the reasons Jareth couldn't keep Sarah from her, and one of the reasons why Liana was still Jareth's strongest means of protection for her. If something dire ever happened, Liana would know as it happened. In a worse case scenario, if Jareth ever failed to reach her in time... Liana would.

With that said, it was becoming painfully obvious that Liana had in fact sensed Sarah's approach and had thus drew her in with the intent of manipulating her perspective. Both she and Jareth knew that she couldn't outright reveal herself to Sarah, and so this must have been an attempt to go bout it in a more round about way. What Liana didn't realize however, was that Jareth was smarter than that.


	61. The Road To Nowhere, part 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While unbeknown to her, Sarah has succeeded in obtaining the one thing the Goblin King has desired for hundreds of years -power over the Labyrinth. After being hidden for years from his diabolical wrath, Sarah finds herself alone and vulnerable as Jareth's dark desires are finally aloud to rear their ugly heads. As always, the only question is, are things really as they seem?

His smile held more ease as he held Sarah down to the table.

"Why don't you tell me why it is you care, instead?" he countered, eyeing her mischievously as she growled into the wood.

"You're forcing me to marry you so you can have me all to yourself. Given the circumstances, I think I have a right to want the same," she said, huffing a tendril of hair that had fallen in front of her face. Jareth leaned in and brushed it away.

"You have no idea how happy it makes me to know how much you wish to possess me," he said, cheekily. Sarah tried bucking him off.

"Tch, I don't," she said. He ran a finger down her cheek.

"Oh yes, you do," he replied. "You want me all to yourself, no matter much you can't stand it." She was about to freak out on him when he switched directions. "If you promise to behave, I'll answer your question," he said. Sarah stilled, utterly flabbergasted with his change in mood. She decided to just go with it.

"I want the truth," she said, turning her head to try to get a look at him. He leaned up a little.

"Now that the cat's out of the bag, I have no reason to lie," he said, and moved off of her to sit in his chair as if nothing had happened. Sarah staggered to her feet, wringing a hand around her neck to try to sooth away some of the remaining tingle. Surprisingly, she wasn't as outraged by his abuse as she thought she was. She looked over him, and saw he'd returned to his docile state. _Ugh...fucking bipolar-psychopathic-sado-socio-ass-hole._ Her stare turned to a glare.

"Do you always have to be such a brute," she said, huffing and puffing as she took one of the chairs next to her.

"Do you always have to be such a cad?" he retorted, and even to him her handling of the situation was refreshingly surprising. She pursed her lips at him and started making circles around her wrist.

"So, what does Liana want you to tell me about the two of you?" she asked, trying her best to remain stoic and not look at him, but failing miserably. Jareth took a deep breath.

"You remember the incident the other day when the city wall fell?" he asked. Sarah drew her brow.

"Yeah."

"And you'll also recall how Liana herself told you it was she who rebuilt it?"

"Mhm..."

"Well, there have been several more such anomalies that have been wreaking a bit of havoc throughout the land recently. Liana and I have been working to try to figure out the cause, as well as manage damage control over hoards of panicked Goblins. As you can imagine, it has been quite time consuming -if you were wondering where I have been this passed week," he explained. Sarah turned, her suspicion and anger quickly dying. What?

"Really? Do you know what's been causing it yet?" she asked, eager and concerned for the wellbeing of the Goblins. Jareth shifted.

"Not entirely, no. These things do tend to happen from time to time, however..." he lied.

"Well, why wouldn't you just tell me then? Why keep it such a secret? Why can't I know?" she asked, marginally suspicious. Jareth was so, so thankful that he had thought of this explanation ahead of time.

"It's been kept a secret because it is a rather tender subject which has the potential to cause even larger issues should it be revealed. And secondly, it isn't that you _can't _know, it's that you don't need to know," he said. Sarah scowled. "I told you, the things I reveal to you on matters is only what you need to know-"

"But, I care about the kingdom, Jareth. What harm would come from simply telling me what's going on? Especially if it's something so serious?"

"Because there is nothing you can do about it," Jareth said, plainly. "Why would I burden you with an issue that you have no power over? There is nothing you could have done to help." (that was probably the biggest lie Jareth had ever told her, and the massive twitch which he had to suppress because of it was only evidence of such). "Matters of state are mine to deal with, and mine to deal with alone. You need not concern yourself with-"

"What if I want to concern myself with it? I don't care if I can't do anything to help, I still-"

"Sarah, I believe you're missing the point. I work for the efficient. There is no point telling you of information which would only cause you added stress. You have enough to wrangle with as it is. Consider it my attempt at offering you some level of consideration," he said, beginning to sound somewhat exasperated. Sarah perked up in her seat.

"Apparently not enough consideration..." she mumbled, frustrated with his logic, as calculated and sterile as it was. Jareth let the silence take some of the tension along with it. "But...I'm confused. You said it was her fault. And she said it was yours...?"

Shit. Jareth hadn't thought that far. He hadn't realized she'd heard that much. The key to a good lie was to leave some basis of truth in it, which is how he always operated around Sarah in matters such as this. He needed to think of an answer quickly before she caught on. He started shifting about his chair.

"Liana has been...going through her own rough patch, and has been neglecting her obligations."

"So you blamed her for all this happening? And so she blamed you? That doesn't make any sense," she said. Jareth didn't say anything, but she wasn't concerned with it when another matter arose itself. "She said, _she needs to know about herself_. What do I need to know about myself, Jareth?"

Double shit. How much had she heard? There was no longer any doubt in his mind whether or not Liana had set him up. What a conniving little...

"She was merely trying to argue the point that as Queen you should have been made aware of such issues and that I have been hindering your true rights as such. To which I said you are not yet ready for that level of responsibility," he explained, unable to look her in the eye as he said it. She started shifting around.

After mulling over Jareth's answer, Sarah felt...kind of silly. One the one hand, she felt strange that they were now just sitting there talking so casually after he'd just had her bent over the table and threatening to rape her not more than five minutes ago, and on the other she felt a little foolish for storming in guns a blazing in the first place. What was happening to her? Was she really so satisfied with his answer when she was still pretty positive he was lying about it anyway? Good God, what kind of sorcery was this? Was it this place? Was it him? Liana? Or was it herself? What happened to her? A week or two ago she would have been clawing tooth and nail and yet now she was just thankful he was calm again...

"I see..." she murmured, lost in thought. Jareth let out a small sigh of relief. _That was close..._

"So now do you understand the importance of taking things in context?" he asked. Sarah glared up.

"It still doesn't change the fact that you tried lying about something so trivial to my face. And I still don't believe you," she said, crossing her arms and pouting.

"This will be your one forewarning, Sarah. Stay out of my affairs," he said, his expression immobile and fierce. Sarah glanced down at the way he was tapping his fingers against the table. He seemed anxious for some reason...yeah, he was still hiding something. She narrowed her eyes on him and puffed up her chest.

"You're absolutely insane, you know that right?" she asked, suddenly riled on the spot. Jareth rose a brow at her.

"Excuse me?" he replied. Sarah sat up a little further.

"You're INSANE. Do you even realize how crazy this is? I'm pledged to a bipolar madman. You need serious help. And so do I," she said and stood to her feet, slamming her chair in and turning her back on him. Jareth stared on blankly. She turned back with her hands on her hips. "If you could't tell, I'm going jogging and I'm taking Mariella with me," she declared. Jareth sat up a little straighter.

"Is that why you have her dressed so ridiculously?" he asked. Sarah pursed her lips.

"She wanted to know more about my culture, so I'm showing her. Do you have a problem with that?"

"Not at all. I'm glad you're choosing to embrace her," he said.

"Good. So we'll be off then," she said, and turned on a dime. Jareth stood from his chair.

"Ah-ah, not so fast," he said. Sarah sighed heavily, and crossed her arms over her chest.

"What? Going to tell me no? I tried being a good girl by coming to tell you first like you wanted," she said. Jareth moved to stand before her.

"I'll give you an A for effort, but we have a bigger complication."

"What? I won't go into the city or the Labyrinth, _I promise_. I was just going to take her to the merchant alley like last time," she said. Jareth smirked.

"Do you think I should let you go play outside after displaying such poor behavior just now?" he asked, mockingly. Sarah found herself angry again. and rose a hand to her temple as she winced in frustration.

"Okay, listen. You wanna get all mad at me for eavesdropping, fine. You wanna lie to me about something so stupid, fine. You wanna purposefully try to piss me off as much as possible because you think it will teach me how to control it, fine. But don't take away the one itty bitty measure of effort I'm putting into trying to go along with it. You want my anger all flustered, you want me to expel it on my own. Well that's what I'm trying to do. I'm going out running so I won't overload and explode with all the crap you've been dishing on me. I'm trying here, okay? I feel like that should count for something. You just threw me around and battered me up, and instead of freaking out on you and causing what you would call _a pointless scene_, I'm instead choosing to work through it in a way that is more beneficial to myself. I'd say that's progress. So please, enough with all the bargains and conditions and just let me try to accept having a life with you."

There was a heavy silence that hung on Sarah's last word as the two openly stared at each other. It went on, making mere seconds seem like minutes as Sarah tried to figure out why the hell Jareth looked like he was using all his might not to burst out laughing at her. She narrowed her eyes and widened her stance, simply waiting for round two. Jareth's haunting smirk curled and he tilted his head as he regarded her.

"Well, do you feel better now?" he asked, cheekily, letting his smile show through. Sarah rolled her eyes and threw her hands up in exasperation.

"That's it. I'm done. You're absolutely nuts. Good bye, Jareth," she said, and made move to stalk off. Jareth caught her by the back of her shirt.

"Say you're sorry," he said. She turned back around with a look of disbelief on her face.

"What?"

"Say you're sorry for snooping and I'll let you go," he clarified. Sarah's eyes widened in abashment.

"Are you serious? You won't let me go outside until I apologize? What is this kindergarden?" she asked.

"No, I won't let you go, period."

She glanced down then to see he still had hold of her shirt. _Oh, you've got to be kidding me.._.

"This is ridiculous. Okay then, I'm sorry, Jareth, for listening to you talk business with you mysterious, supposedly plutonic, female sidekick," she said, with all the sarcastic enthusiasm in the world. Jareth gave her an amused eye.

"And?" he asked, earning him yet another look of sheer abhorrence from Sarah. Seriously, he was chipper now? What the fuck. She sighed roughly and glared away.

"And for storming in like the self-assertive woman I'm not supposed to be," she added, and almost bit him when he let go of her shirt to tap her on the nose.

"Very good. Now, run along; it's poor manners to keep your servant waiting," he said, and Sarah wanted to gag herself at his use of literal pun. She turned without another word and stormed towards the door. "Oh, and Sarah-"Jareth called out. She cringed just as her hand touched the knob. "Don't even think of bathing once you return." Sarah turned slowly and gave him the most ghastly expression to date.

"You're disgusting. I'm leaving now." She turned around and tried to open the door, but found it stuck in place. She glanced up and saw Jareth's hand holding it shut. _Wha- how the hell did get there so fast?_

"And one more thing," he said. Sarah started tapping her foot. This encounter should have ended fifteen minutes ago. She flinched back when he leaned in towards her, his eyes examining over her face quite intently. She didn't quite know what to do in response. "...You're getting better," was all he had to say. She was about to ask what he was talking about when he opened the door for her and pushed her out into the hall. Mariella was waiting patiently off to the side, and darted her head up immediately. Sarah tried to ignore them both. "I look forward to seeing you tonight," he said, and shut the door between them.

* * *


	62. The Road To Nowhere, part 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While unbeknown to her, Sarah has succeeded in obtaining the one thing the Goblin King has desired for hundreds of years -power over the Labyrinth. After being hidden for years from his diabolical wrath, Sarah finds herself alone and vulnerable as Jareth's dark desires are finally aloud to rear their ugly heads. As always, the only question is, are things really as they seem?

Sarah continued to glare at the door, wishing for all manner of foul deed to befall it, before dismissing it altogether and turning away. Mariella was watching her expectantly. She took a deep breath.

"Um...Sarah? Is everything alright? You were in there for quite a while..." Mariella approached slowly, wary of her anger. Sarah closed her eyes and exhaled.

"Everything's fine Marie. I'm sorry that took so long, but Jareth is just as mature as he thinks I am. Come on, I want to get out of here," she said and no sooner stalked her way down the hall. Mariella scampered after.

"Are you sure you're alright? You seem vexed. His Majesty seemed angry..." She didn't bother pointing out the red marks around her neck.

"When are we not?" Sarah asked, laughing rhetorically. Mariella frowned.

"Well...you both seem of well sorts. I take it the issue was resolved?"

"I wouldn't say that."

"Hmm..."

It was quiet after that, as Sarah prowled her way through the castle with Mariella shuffling close behind. She seemed nervous to Sarah, but she was still too worked up to really think about it. They were nearing the main gate, and just the anticipation of being outside was enough to send a tingle of relief down her spine. Mariella kept her eyes at the floor.

"Sarah...I'm curious. Forgive me but...who is Liana?" she asked. Sarah glanced back somewhat, caught off guard by her question, mostly because she was unsure of how to answer it.

"Liana is...well...actually, I don't really know," she said with a shrug, shaking her head with an incredulous smile on her face as she thought over her encounter with Jareth again. Though she may have let it be for now, there was no chance in Hell she'd dropped the issue at all. She was almost positive Jareth was keeping something from her, but she didn't really have the means to weasel it out of him right now. Sure, she could scream and holler at him to tell the truth, but she knew by now that that would get her nowhere. No, she'd hold on to it for now, and come back to it when she had more ammunition later on. She was getting pretty good at this whole picking battles thing. "She works for Jareth, helping to do some of his dirty work is what I guess. They're both really shady about it," she said, distracted once the site of the gate came into view. Mariella watched eagerly.

"I see...I thought you said there weren't any other women in the castle?"

"Except her, but she's not always here. Sorry."

They stopped before the gate, waiting as it slowly eased open. The first ray of light to breech the cold castle walls was a godsend.

"Hm..then I can see where your insecurity might arise," she said. Sarah lowered her gaze from the twenty foot door and met her in the eye.

"Insecurity? No, you got it all wrong. It's not like that," she said, trying to convince the both of them, but could only shake her head again at her own incompetence, knowing she stood absolutely no chance of making herself belief she didn't feel like the awkward third wheel when it came to those two. She'd thought they were married when she first got here for goodness' sake! A mysterious angelic beauty is off sneaking around and having late night talks with what is supposed to be her fiance? Regardless of the fact that he is also her captor... Man, her possessive side really needed to convene with the rest of her sanity, because this rational was just messed up. Mariella watched the way Sarah shook her head in silent reprimand, and was about to question such, when the door creaked and popped as it locked into place. On reflex, she looked outward over the land, having never before seen it. And was...stunned at what she saw.

Sarah didn't hesitate to start skipping down the stairs. She glanced over after a moment and became curious as to the look of concerned awe on her friend's face.

"You okay?" she asked. Mariella looked over, her brow thoroughly drawn.

"Yes. Yes, of course," she was quick to answer. Sarah rose a brow at her.

"You don't look it. Not what you were expecting to see, I take it?" she asked, giving in herself to gloss over the vast landscape that was the Goblin City. To her it was wondrous, but even she couldn't look passed the rundown sense of degrade it had fallen into. She wondered what Mariella must think of it.

"Not quite, no," she answered. Sarah pursed her lips and shrugged.

"Yeah...it's not the most glorious capital city, I'm sure, but it suits the Goblins. And even though it's rather dry and desolate, I think the palate of a desert landscape presents its own kind of beauty." She was getting pretty artsy here, but she couldn't help it. She looked out over the world every morning, and every morning she saw a different painting. And even with that said, she knew it wasn't all desert, though she did wonder if the rest of the kingdom was this run down as well, and if so, the reason why.

"That is a good opinion to have, My Lady," Mariella said. Sarah looked over.

"You don't like it do you?" she asked. Mariella looked uncomfortable. "You can be honest, I don't mind."

"Well...if you wish me to be honest, I have seen much grander things in my travel. And for all the talk I hear of the mighty Goblin Kingdom, I just expected its capital city to be just as spectacular. If my Lord Davion's home at Fort Fyrn was anything to go by, I would have expected a city of gold."

Sarah scrunched her brow at this, now greatly curious as to her original concerns. Why was the Goblin City so rundown? Shouldn't the capital be the most furnished and lively part of the kingdom?

"Hm...I don't know. But it's not just us, Roldan is confused about it too." Mariella scrunched her brow.

"He is?" she asked. Sarah nodded.

"Mhm. He doesn't get why Jareth would want to be surrounded by Goblins rather than his own kind. I'm guessing it's the general population that has something to do with the condition of the city. I can't imagine Fae wanting to live like that. I mean, just look at the castle. Coming out here is like stepping into another universe."

"You mean the are no other beings but Goblins within the main city?" Marie asked. Sarah shrugged.

"Actually, I don't know. I was just assuming. But, ya know, I've never really thought about it. I would think there were other kinds of beings here. It would make sense. But I've never seen or heard of any."

Mariella seemed content with this answer, as she asked no further questions. The walk down the enormous staircase went quicker than expected, as it wasn't long before they reached their destination. Mariella looked around the arid and barren path, eyeing it with clear distaste. Sarah meanwhile, had never been happier. She knew better than to let her guard down however, and instead kept an eye out for what she knew would be coming.

It wasn't more than a minute or two before the Guard came marching around the corner. Mariella turned, confused. Sarah stepped forward.

"Greetings, Your Grace," said what she assumed was the captain. Sarah put her hands on her hips.

"Let me guess, Jareth sent you here to watch over me?" she asked. The head Goblin nodded in confirmation. Sarah narrowed her eyes on it. There seemed to be something familiar about him. "Could you take off your helmet please?" she asked. The Goblin lowered his halberd and removed his helmet, shyly keeping his eyes from hers. Upon seeing his face, Sarah found herself smiling gallantly. "Baldur? Oh my gosh, it is you! I thought I recognized your voice," she said, hunkering down to get a better look at him.

"Yes, My Lady..."

"I almost didn't recognize you, you're wearing different armor than last time," she pointed out. Baldur started to shift from foot to foot. Why was he acting so shy?

"Yes...it is my new uniform, Your Grace."

"Really? New uniform for what?" she asked. Baldur rose a hand to clear his throat.

"I have been promoted, My Lady, to head of public detail," he said. Sarah drew her brow on him.

"Huh?" she asked.

"I am the new captain of my Queen's public escort. My squad is charged with guarding over you whilst out in the city, My Lady," he explained. Sarah's smile grew, for reasons he was unaware of.

"Wait, so Jareth didn't end up punishing you after all?" she asked.

That had been worrying her for quite some time now. After she fell the last time she was out, she was worried whether or not Jareth would follow through in his threat to punish the guards who were supposed to keep her safe. Though she pleaded for him not to, the doubt was never stronger.

"Not at all, Your Grace."

"So he promoted you instead?"

"Yes, Your Grace."

"Well that's...unexpected," Sarah said, surprised and pleased with this happy turn of events. Jareth really promoted him? Why? She couldn't fathom why he would make that decision, regardless of how happy she was over it. Hmm...curious. She stood and took a step back. "Well, I'm real glad you got promoted Baldur, and that I get to see you more often. This is Marie, my hand maiden-"

"Greetings, My Lady," he said, with a bow. Mariella gave him a nod, but otherwise remained silent.

"We're going running again. Would you mind if you guys did whatever you did last time?" she asked, hinting, though not wanting to outright say, that she didn't really want to see them trailing alongside them while they ran. Baldur gave a curt nod.

"If that is thy wish. Though, may I make a suggestion? Please, no more jumping. I may have gotten off once, but His Majesty will not stand for another indiscretion under my guard. It is my sincerest wish to keep you safe," he asked. Sarah smiled.

"Of course. No more jumping. You got it," she said, giving him a thumbs up for extra reassurance. Mariella continued to look confused. "Well, you ready?" she asked, turning back to direct herself at Marie.

"I suppose...We are to simply run down this path?" she asked.

"Yupp. With no end in sight," Sarah answered, with a smile, and turned in said direction. "Let me know if you get tired, we can take a break and stretch. And I know Baldur's got my back if we get thirsty. So, what'dya say?"

"I will do my best to keep up, My Lady."

At that, Sarah turned back to Baldur.

"Oh, and that reminds me: I told you all to call me Sarah. Got it?" she asked. Baldur exuded an involuntary bashfulness as he put his helmet back on.

"Of course...Sssarah. If you should require anything, you need only call."

"Gotcha. Ok, while there's still some daylight left, let's get this going. I've got enough energy to fuel a rocket, and I expect to be thoroughly burnt out by time we're finished."

Mariella stared on like she had no idea what she was talking about, and gave the path ahead a sorry look as she tried to mimic Sarah's posture as they headed out on the road to nowhere.


	63. The Road To Nowhere, part 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While unbeknown to her, Sarah has succeeded in obtaining the one thing the Goblin King has desired for hundreds of years -power over the Labyrinth. After being hidden for years from his diabolical wrath, Sarah finds herself alone and vulnerable as Jareth's dark desires are finally aloud to rear their ugly heads. As always, the only question is, are things really as they seem?

Chapter 13, The Road To Nowhere, part 2

Sarah blew bubbles into the water as she waded, nose deep, into the steamy bath. It was quiet, the only sounds being that of the water sloshing as she shifted about the tub. She closed her eyes and sank below the surface, the warmth of the water embracing and soothing her worn muscles.

It hadn't been more than two minutes upon Sarah and Mariella's return that she decided to, not so much ignore, but in go completely against Jareth's command for her not to shower. She still couldn't get over it. It was probably one of the most disgusting turn-offs he'd posed yet. Sweat? Really? That got his kicks? Why was he so into that? Ugh. And besides, she wasn't lying when she'd said she planned to go all out tonight. If she had any means of measuring distance, she would have said she'd ran at least ten miles tonight, and if it weren't for the lack of light she would have kept on going. She was completely drenched. It also helped that what she thought would be a hindrance, turned out to be her biggest motivation.

For someone who had never even heard of the idea of jogging, it was all too easy to presume that Mariella would have little to no sense of athleticism. From the git go, Sarah had been planning on several dozen or so pit stops, water breaks and random tantrums. She was actually kind of looking forward to it. It wasn't often she had the upper hand in a situation, and Mariella was just so much fun to tease. What she wasn't quite expecting however, were Mariella's Fae-nymph genetics to kick in and throw Sarah's sense of superiority back into place.

They'd ran for hours, hours which had Sarah heaving and feeling faint, while Mariella hadn't so much as broken a sweat. Heck, she'd barely even escalated her breathing! Sarah couldn't believe it; all the haughty crap she'd been flaunting about this damn activity, and Mariella had managed to completely suck all the thunder out of it. Sarah understood now why Mariella had been so confused. Apparently, her kind had a natural endurance which made it totally unnecessary to exercise. Sarah was baffled, but let it be; this was about working out her own stress after all; and in truth, not having to stop and go for Mariella could only be a good thing. Once they were finished, she'd told her she was free to return her to own room to shower and change, but again that hadn't been an issue. Instead, Mariella had opted to kindle the fire and pick out a dress while she waited for Sarah.

Ugh, she'd forgotten about that. As she floundered about the tub, she found herself asking why in the world she ever agreed to a bargain like that in the first place. The more she thought about it, the more she really, really didn't want to go through with it. After the way Jareth was treating her recently, she could only imagine what tomorrow would be like once he saw her in a freaking dress. And after all the fervent hum bum she'd gone through in preaching how she would never ever be seen in one? Gah, he was going to think her such a hypocrite. Not to mention the easier access...Oh boy, he was going to be in such a good mood...Shit. But then again, she was the one who'd drawn the bargain in the first place... Maybe she was a hypocrite. She rolled her eyes towards the ceiling and groaned.

After a moment, she decided that she'd been keeping Mariella waiting long enough and decided to mosey on out. She'd gotten smarter over the past couple days, and had willed her bathroom to stock up on bathrobes so she wouldn't have to worry about roaming into the lion's den, clad in nothing but regret and a damp towel. Not that that mattered now of course...it was just Mariella on the other side of the door. Jareth was off doing what ever it was he did, and probably wouldn't be back till much later -as always. She found herself grimacing as she neared the door, disgusted with thoughts of the night to come.

What the hell did Jareth have planned for her tonight anyway? He'd kept alluding to something malicious all day, but she couldn't imagine what his possible repertoire could be that would make it any different from any other night. Now, _that_ was a thought that worried her.

Up until now, all Jareth's lesson plan had really consisted of were various sexual releases. Though that was all well and good, she was now working on controlling her anger and it didn't take a genius to figure out that those two pieces didn't exactly fit well together. She couldn't speak for the masses, but she knew that enraged was probably the least sexual mood for her to be in. But actually, it wasn't even _rage_ so much as it was just plain annoyance. As she thought over the day, over the past several days in fact, her libido only grew smaller and smaller to make way for her burgeoning irritation. She didn't know how he planned to go about this tonight, but she knew there was no way in Hell he was going to distract her and get her off after the aggravation he'd put her through. His dark and dangerous bravado could only get him so far. She was shaking her head when she reentered the room, and looked up to find Mariella standing on the other side of her bed, staring back at her like a deer caught in the headlights. She almost didn't notice she was now dressed back in her earlier gown.

"Hey, everything alright?" Sarah asked, eyeing her over, and noticing the doors to her armoire were both wide open. Mariella kneaded her hands out in front of her, glancing down and back again.

"Yes. How was your bath?" she asked. Sarah bent over to towel dry her hair.

"Frothy. Did you pick something out for tomorrow yet?" she asked, wanting to sound somewhat enthused for her sake. Mariella twisted her lips. Why was she so anxious?

"Yes, about that-" Sarah peered up at the worry she heard in her voice. "Master Roldan stopped by, while you were bathing..." A firm scowl had cemented itself to Sarah's face upon hearing that name. She stood and moved to sit on the edge of the bed.

"Yeah? What'd he want?" she asked. Mariella turned back towards the closet.

"He wished to inform you that we are both to report to the dining hall tonight, and that it is time you started taking your meals properly...He also suggested that you dress accordingly," she said. Sarah scowled harder.

"Oh really? On what authority?" she asked, almost sarcastically, and moved to cross her arms over her chest.

"His Majesty's, I presume," Mariella answered. Sarah snorted and glared away in disgust. Alright, lessons were one thing, but did Jareth really expect her to put up with Roldan's company through dinner as well? Mmphh. She had half a mind to go lock herself back in the bathroom and boycott Roldan's stupid little endeavor. _And_ she had to dress up for this? Oh God this was certainly going to be something. At least a few hours of dinner would prolong the night to come...Hm, it seemed there were indeed two sides to every coin. She looked back up with a new resolve on her face.

"Alright then, fine. It'll be nice to have a break in routine, and besides..." She trailed off with the thought before it could be voiced. "It'll give me more time before I'm forced to be alone with Jareth," she finished, taking both Liana and Mariella's advice of looking on the brighter side of things. Mariella blinked at how easily that went. She was preparing herself for another of Sarah's rants.

"Yes...well...I've been looking through a few things for you to choose from...I believe I've narrowed it down," she said and moved to lay out three separate garments across the bed. Sarah shifted so she could get a better look, and was pleasantly surprised to find her choices not nearly as atrocious as she'd

anticipated. Actually, they were what she might expect to see in some of her plays.

They were all long. Only two had full sleeves, and only one had lace -she gave Mariella props for that. They were all dark in color, various greens and reds. They didn't look too tight, and none had corsets or stupid accessories. As she examined them more closely, she realized she might just be able to get through this after all. She took the green one, for it looked to be the least revealing and threw it over her arm. _Well, here goes nothing..._

"Is this all then? No frilly skirts? No stockings? No corsets or trinkets or fancy hair?" she asked, a bit sarcastically. Mariella gathered up the two remaining dresses to put back in the closet.

"Not unless you wish it, My Lady. Would like me to help you dress?" she asked.

"Uhm, no. I think I can manage," Sarah answered, and turned right back around towards the bathroom to change. "I can deal with playing dress-up tonight, but did Roldan happen to mention if this is going to be an everyday thing?" she called out over her shoulder. Mariella shut the closet doors.

"Yes. He believes it is a routine which has been put off far too long."

"...Is Jareth going?"

"I wouldn't know. Though, Master Roldan did urge me to have you ready as soon as possible. So, if I may...?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm going. Wouldn't want Roldan to blow a gasket, now would we?" Sarah said, and closed the door behind her.

* * *

The mirror cast a ghastly reflection as Sarah watched a very uncomfortable-looking woman staring back at her with a most worrisome look.

Sarah ran her eyes from head to toe over herself in the mirror, unable to believe she'd actually given in so easily. Pulling that dress over her head had been like ripping off a bandaid. But now that the initial sting had passed, she found that she looked...she looked...well, she looked very nice, actually. As her absent eyes wandered over details of gold and satin, her mind couldn't help but wish that her school drama department had been this well funded.

It was a lot heavier than expected, and a lot warmer; but she was right in that it was both the least grand and the least revealing out of anything she expected. And now it was on her. And she looked nice in it. And that made her feel surprisingly...good. This feeling...it was a curious one, one she lost herself to.

For the past ten minutes or so, as she came to realize she wasn't going to burst into flames from the level of hypocrisy she'd reached, Sarah had been contemplating just how smoothly this whole transition was going, and in turn how eerie that made it. She'd thought back over her brief time here, and all the crap she'd given everyone about how she dressed, and so couldn't help but find herself caught in a slight twilight zone as she saw herself now donned in the one thing she'd always refused to wear. Was it because she'd already promised Mariella that she'd wear the damned thing tomorrow that made it so easy? Or was it because Roldan had ordered her to and for some reason she was actually listening to him? Or maybe it was because Jareth wasn't currently drooling over the matter. Whatever reason, none of them could fully explain why Sarah hadn't so much as hesitated before shucking her robe for this satiny mass. Why was she so okay with this all of the sudden? Why the hell had she even agreed to wear one tomorrow in the first place? She didn't need to, even if it did make Mariella happy... And it definitely wasn't because she wanted to ...right?

She stood in front of the mirror, and compared it to the way she'd been looking at herself that very same morning. She smoothed the shiny material over her hips, and turned to try to get a view of the back. It fit her perfectly, was tight it all the right places and loose in others. It had gold filigree around the neck line, just a little something to give it a more luxurious punch. Aside from that, there was only one thing that really stood out to her, and that was the way the skirt was shorter in the front than it was in the back, rising up to expose her ankles. She remembered this seemed to be a common trait from the dresses Liana had shown her. She wondered why that was. And as she examined it, looking for more little hitches, she realized that there weren't any, and then began to ponder why she wasn't wearing a fancy ball gown. Wasn't that how Queens dressed? In foofy skirts and corsets? Wasn't that what she wore in her dream? Hm...maybe her dream was wrong? Why would that be? It seemed more of her Aboveground presumptions were taking their toll here, though she didn't have the time to sort them out. That's when she shrugged it all away and reached for the door. It would be better not to over think this and just go. It was only a dress after all, no big deal. She just prayed to God that Jareth wouldn't be there. Oh, the scene he would cause at the dinner table...

The smile on dear Mariella's face had never been brighter, and she actually clapped her hands as she bounced with glee.

Sarah had stood alone in the bathroom for a long while, just staring at any view she could find before venturing out into the world, but hadn't really thought about keeping Marie waiting. She met Marie in the eye and shrugged, not knowing what else to do. Something seemed very ironic about this situation.

"Oh, goodness, Sarah, you are simply stunning. I knew that color would suit you." It hadn't taken more than a second for Mariella's hands to be groping all over her. Sarah stood awkwardly, recalling where the grass was always greener.

"Think so?" she asked, skeptically, swooshing the skirt of her dress from side to side as Mariella poked and prodded.

"Of course. Your eyes are so bright, and your hair is so dark, such rich colors only amplify it. Not to mention these gowns are a bit more flattering to the female form than those dreadful trousers," she said, and glanced up hopefully, but her smile soon faded at the look her eagerness was received by. "Do you not like the dress?" she asked, and made it sound like someone had just kicked her favorite puppy. Sarah took a step back.

"Remember how you felt when I made you wear that track uniform? Well, that's how I'm feeling right about now," she said. Mariella pursed her lips.

"Well, I can assure you that you look far better in this gown than I did in that outfit," she said, and made her way back to Sarah's closet. "You've just come from the bath, please, you must allow me to do your hair," she tacked on. Sarah just stood there, blinking.

"Um..."

"Don't worry, nothing too extravagant. I promise," she said, with an appeasing smile that succeeded in putting Sarah at ease. She took a step forward. "We don't have much time. If you would, please sit on the edge of the bed."

Sarah did as she was told, a little absent minded towards everything that was taking place. What would Roldan think of her when she saw him? Would he approve? Or would she just feel silly? She felt silly now, but that wasn't stopping Mariella any. So she just sat there, and let her have her way.

She wasn't sure what to expect her to do, but was still surprised when all the curious Fae did was run her fingers through Sarah's hair, then take a step back. Sarah puzzled her brow on her, confused as to what had just happened.

"Hm, I like it," Mariella said, and scurried away to fetch her some shoes. Sarah only grew more puzzled, and stood to look at herself in the mirror.

Her eyes widened at her reflection, finding that with just the tickle of her fingers, Mariella had somehow managed to dry Sarah's hair and give it a pleasant curl to boot. What the heck?

"Mariella, how did you...?" she asked, picking at tendrils of her now silky smooth hair. Mariella glanced back.

"I told you, my magic is limited, but one of the duties as a servant to the Queen is having the ability to ready her in haste," she explained, quite vaguely at that. Sarah pursed her lips and nodded at the mirror, too focused on her own face to really react to anything else. A part of her wondered if this was all really necessary, while another part thought that she still had a long ways to go. She drew the line at make-up however, halting Mariella in her tracks when she came at her next, by saying they needed to hurry and not keep Roldan waiting. This seemed to work as Mariella completely forgot about painting Sarah's face and was ushering her out the door within the next moment or two. It seemed the exotic stranger had finally found her element.

Sarah paused before crossing the threshold into the hallway as if the floor were made of lava.

"What's wrong?" Mariella asked. Sarah blinked and shook her head, this was all just moving too fast.

"Um...nothing, nothing. Let's go," she said, trying to shake her head clear of any worries of Jareth. No, this was just dinner. She was just doing what Roldan said. No big deal. Mariella stopped her and caught her on the shoulder.

"You really are quite lovely, Sarah. I cannot wait to see how beautiful you look in you wedding attire. His Majesty must take great pride when looking upon you. I'm sure he will be quite pleased," she said, and for some reason Sarah felt more moved by her sincerity than any other compliment she'd ever received, but in turn made it even harder for her to cross into the hall. She gave her a smile and glanced down to the floor.

And there it was. That last niggling feeling. It'd been there when she'd stared at herself in the bathroom. It was there that morning, and it was even stronger now, the last little reason why this was okay that she'd been trying to ignore. She recalled it, from only a few moments ago, as Mariella had treaded about bumbling and smiling like the giddy school girl she really was. It was there, definitely, and now that they were on the cusp of this strange endeavor, Sarah couldn't help but acknowledge that perhaps one of the reasons she was suddenly so okay with this was in fact _because_of Jareth.

She hated it. Hated to think that way, but a niggling voice in the back of her head told her it was true, for a number of reasons. All this time, she'd been staying clear of anything with crotchular access for fear of His Majesty's advances; however, Sarah wasn't all too fearful of Jareth's promiscuities nowadays. Well, _as_ fearful at least (as she now knew that he was so fervent in _her_ coming to_him_ that he wouldn't take things too far if she really didn't want him to...it was the _really didn't want him to part_ that usually got fuzzy). With that out of the way, the second largest troubling detail was Jareth's misconception in thinking she was getting all dolled up for him. While that was still true, the fact that Roldan had mandated it took most of the edge off of that worry. After all, Jareth couldn't really find much leverage over the matter if the only reason she was dressed up was because Roldan felt like playing tea party, right? And lastly, she supposed that the remaining part of her conscience that had deemed it okay to be doing this, had done so because it in fact liked what was happening.

While she had always been more comfortable in jeans or shorts, Sarah wouldn't deny the guilty pleasure she found in getting all dressed up every once in a while. She was in theater after all, and a part of that high was getting to pick through all the wonderful costumes and make-up and props. And that was what had made it so hard for her to steer away from such things now that they were a part of her norm. In truth, she really quite liked all the things loitering in her closet, and would be a dirty liar if she said she hadn't thought about at least trying a couple of things on just for the hell of it from time to time. And now that she had the all clear to do so without too many consequences (hopefully), she was just plain pleased to do just that. She'd been telling herself to start enjoying things because they made her happy, regardless of anything else, and now she was doing just that. Screw Jareth and his preteen snickering. If she wanted to wear a stupid dress because it made her feel pretty, then by jove she was going to do it. And after all the stupid bullshit both he and Roldan had been putting her through, her sense of self-confidence could use a booster right about now.

That was why she smiled at the way Mariella glowed and blossomed around her. And that was why she let her do something with her hair and pick out her shoes. By the end of it all, for the first time being there, Sarah actually felt...pretty. It was a good feeling, one she missed. It wasn't the same when Jareth told her she was beautiful, probably because he only did so when he had her pinned and exposed, or when he was just teasing her. She scolded herself for letting him make her feel so insecure, especially lately when she knew she shouldn't let him get to her. That was the point after all. So was she really letting this happen because some secret twisted part of her wanted his satisfaction? Did she really want to be pretty for him? Could that be the true intention of all this backhanded shit talking? To break her confidence until she looked for it in him? Well, this was supposed to be a learning experience and it seemed like in some strange way she was in fact learning. She was learning how to see things for how they really were, but did she really want to? Was ignorance bliss? Why was she so powerless against him? How could he manipulate her against herself so flawlessly? She was smarter than that. Did she let it happen, then? Was he right all those times he'd said he knew her better than she knew herself? Or was this still just a part of the game, one that depended solely on her? Would she continue to be his pawn? How could she break out of it? ...He'd told her she had the one trump card to get out of all of this...Was that his end game then? There were too many levels of mind-fuckery going on for her to deal with. She just wasn't clever enough, wasn't wicked enough. Wasn't strong enough. She wanted Liana. She needed her, needed her guidance. He was trying to get to her and she was determined to keep him out, but what if he was already there breaking her from the inside? He was _trying_ to get to her...

All these thoughts had passed in mere seconds, bringing Sarah back to the awareness that she and Mariella still stood in the doorway of her room. She looked up and took a deep breath. This moment was simple. This she could deal with.

"Thank you...come on, lets get this over with," she said, and turned to start their trek down towards the dining hall.

  



	64. The Road To Nowhere, part 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While unbeknown to her, Sarah has succeeded in obtaining the one thing the Goblin King has desired for hundreds of years -power over the Labyrinth. After being hidden for years from his diabolical wrath, Sarah finds herself alone and vulnerable as Jareth's dark desires are finally aloud to rear their ugly heads. As always, the only question is, are things really as they seem?

Much to Sarah's ease, though curious displeasure, Jareth did not make an appearance at dinner that night. She was surprised of course; after making their way to the hallow of the dining hall in all its grandiosity, Sarah's anxiety was sobered by the image of just how lonely this great castle could be, devoid of the creatures which were supposed to sustain it.

She remembered this place- it was the same place Jareth had taken her to have lunch that first day. She remembered the obscenely long table and all its countless chairs. She remembered the twenty foot hearth consuming an entire wall, and she remembered the echo of their footsteps as they awkwardly passed from one end to the other.

It was just the three of them, she, Marie, and Roldan, and she was sticking firmly to the idea that three was company, while four was a crowd. She was a little on edge, wary of any of Roldan's lingering anger, while she herself was thankful her long run had worked in exorcizing most of her nastiness, and so tried to be cordial for both their sake's. After all, she wasn't sure whether or not Jareth would be a part of this, and thought it would just be better for this little dysfunctional family of hers to all just get along for one night.

With all that said, she was nothing less than shocked when Roldan complimented her on her dress, saying that she "cleaned up nicely," and was even more shocked when he hadn't a real foul word to say to her all night. In fact, he seemed just plain too tired to bother. Hm, maybe he'd had a hard workout to clear his head as well? Whatever it was, it was a pleasant distraction. It was only after they'd started the first course that she asked for Jareth's whereabouts, to which Roldan informed that His Majesty was sometimes too busy to attend a trivial gathering at such a given time. Sarah had to stop herself from asking "If dinner is considered trivial, why you was subjecting both of us to it in the first place?" In the end, she decided this was a good thing, as a huge weight had been mysteriously lifted from her shoulders.

With that out of the way, Sarah's curiosity was free to explore this new set of circumstances. This wasn't a part of Sarah's lesson plan, which meant Roldan wasn't teaching her. She didn't have to take notes or study. They were just...eating. And not only that, they were talking casually. Did she ever just talk to Roldan and have it not be extremely awkward? No. It was a good thing Mariella was there to break the ice. The hours went by slowly, each minute passing with a sigh of relief that Jareth still wasn't there. But eventually, this strange little haven came to an end.

When all the food was gone and dinner had been deemed a success, Sarah had let Marie retire to do as she pleased for the remainder of the evening. She did this with both ease and caution; for one, it felt kind of strange to have someone following her around twenty-four-seven, and thought maybe Marie might want some alone time as well. But on the other hand, sending her off meant that Sarah would be left alone and vulnerable to her mercurial fiancé. Not that Mariella's presence would have mattered, as she herself had said, but still.

She took her time walking back to her room, her head full of worrying contemplations. It was rather late now, so Jareth would arrive to join her at any moment and she needed to decide how to handle that initial encounter. While it was true that she'd left him on an almost neutral playing field, he had warned her a number of times that he planned to revisit all her little misdemeanors that night. For all she knew he could show up like a flaming caldron of bloodthirsty rage, or he could show up in the most candid of moods, totally smitten, docile and well-to-do. It went without saying how irritating it was to have to predict such a radical spectrum of behavior. One thing was certain however, and that was that she should get out of that dress as soon as possible. Since he hadn't shown up to dinner, it stood to reason that should she change quickly enough, he need never know of it at all.

A part of her was yelling "Screw Jareth! Why should she wallow back to her room just to wait for him to ream her out? Why should she subject herself to the anxiety of that torment?" She entertained the idea of wandering off towards one of the weird magic rooms dotting the halls, or maybe getting lost in a book in the library. The way things had gone this past week, she hadn't had much time to just kick back. If Jareth really wanted to teach her a lesson, well at least she'd be able to get in a few minutes of leisure first.

She found herself slowing even further as she thought over all the things she could do other than going back to her room and wait for Jareth. The night was still young, there was plenty of time to find something mildly entertaining to do. Hm, maybe she'd go find one of those white rooms and just...fall.

She shook her head clear of that thought. There was no way she'd ever go near one of those rooms. It wasn't even about suicide. Jareth had said that if she went in without him she would plummet forever. That didn't necessarily mean death. And besides, she may have been down on her luck, but there was no way she was even close to giving up on life. She couldn't. She really just...couldn't. Every time something horrible happened, every time Jareth brought her more and more misery, every time her thoughts even alluded to ending it all, Liana's words would come back to her, telling her to fight and to live and to never give up. Well, she wouldn't quit. She was stronger than that. She wouldn't break. She couldn't fight Jareth back, so instead she would endure. She would endure this, and maybe...find a third option.

In the end, she gave up on any delusions of fun and went back to her room. She was in a funk tonight, and as it turned out, felt like wallowing in it.

Like always, the first thing she did was glance around the room, searching its shadows and crevices for unwanted eyes. Her gaze landed on the clock, and she let out a small sigh of relief as she realized dinner hadn't taken nearly as long as she'd thought it had. That gave her a few extra minutes to prepare. It was only when she looked away that she realized just how on edge she was, and forced herself to take a moment to relax. Was she really this worried over Jareth seeing her in a dress? Or was she just nervous of seeing him in general? She shook her head and scowled. This was stupid. She was confident that she had gotten to a place where she could say she was no longer afraid of him, and she wasn't about to wuss out now. She closed her eyes and reached up to pull the dress from her shoulders. There was too much thinking going on. She was wasting time.

When her eyes opened again, she caught her reflection in the vanity and paused, her hand on her shoulder as she tugged at her sleeve. She met eyes with the woman in the mirror and just...stared. Like that morning. Like that afternoon. For some reason, something about the image she saw looking back at her was just...out of place. Wasn't it in fairytales where things happened in threes?

She looked...so different now, and she didn't quite know why. Was it just her attire? Physically, not much about her had changed from day to day, well, aside from a few bumps and bruises that is. And yet, she saw a stranger looking back at her. Was it just a result of this strange mood she was in? God knew her self-confidence had been completely shattered, but strangely the woman in the mirror looked...well. Her hair was smooth and shiny, done nicely thanks to Mariella. Her tan was all but gone, her freckles were fading, and if she wasn't mistaken her face was a little thinner. Hm, maybe all the stress was more than just emotional. Her eyes lowered, zoning out on the photo of her family. It was strange. She hadn't really thought of them for a while, aside from Mariella's question earlier. And although she still slept with that crystal every night, it was more as a precaution against Jareth than anything else. She always forgot her dreams soon after she woke up anyway...She frowned, the hand on her shoulder constricting subconsciously.

She stood there, unaware of how long, completely absent minded as she thought over her sorry state of affairs. After a while, her eyes refocused on something, the highlight reflecting off her crystallized flower. Her brow tightened as she stared at it; recalling that memory was difficult for her, difficult because it was one of the few pleasant memories she and Jareth actually had. It was a reminder of something nice he had done for her. And while it wasn't much, it mattered. But seeing it now only upset her as she compared the calm, ominously sweet Jareth of that night, to the Jareth she'd been dealing with these past few days. Why did he have to be like this? Why did he have to be so horrible? Why was he so freaking crazy! Why couldn't he just be nice like that all the time? Maybe then she could stop being so angry with him. He wanted her to chill out, and she wanted him to calm down. Neither one would budge until the other did first. It was a stupid, pointless deadlock, and one she couldn't see an easy way out of. Why did she still want to find a way out of it anyway? What in world was wrong with her for her to still want to find a way to be happy with him after all this? After all he'd done...she should hate him. And yet...it made her want a happily ever after with him even more. Was having something to just make her feel good about herself really too much to ask?

She wasn't conscious to her own hand as it pulled the sleeve of her gown back into place. She still had a few minutes, just a few more minutes to feel...good.

"Oh, please, don't stop on my account."

Sarah jumped and darted her head to the side, her face blanching when she saw the owner of the intruding voice watching her with a blatant stare. She gasped on reflex and went as stiff as a plank. What the- how long had he been there? How long had she been standing there... She gulped and took her eyes from his face, forcing a scowl to mask her blush.

"Is there a reason why you can't just use the door like a normal person? Every time- I swear, it's like you've got an alarm for when I'm about to change," she rambled, fighting to find her footing. It was bad enough that he'd caught her daydreaming, but he'd also caught her in the one situation she'd been praying to avoid. She tried not to seem affected when his eyes raked her from head to toe.

"Actually..." and one end of his lips curled, "I did, this time. You were simply too lost in your own reflection to hear." When his eyes met hers there was a darkness to them. Sarah tried to scowl harder. "Might I ask what it was you were thinking about so intently?" he asked. Sarah glanced away, and rose her hand to her chest in a nervous gesture. Jareth's gaze narrowed on it.

"Just...everything, I guess," she answered, not able to look him in the eye. He took a step forward, tilting his head as he regarded her.

"You don't look very happy about it," he said. Sarah rose a sarcastic eyebrow.

"Am I that obvious?" He took another step closer.

"You wanna talk about it?" he asked, his smile curling further when she glared up at him.

"You don't want to hear the things I have to say." For a moment, she thought he might have been serious, but then she remembered who it was she was talking to. She shook her head and tried to move past him. He cut her off with a sidestep.

"Have I ever told you how adorable you look when you're annoyed?" He was closer to her now, looking down his nose at her as she started to fume in her spot. Her hands began to fist at her sides.

"Have I ever told you how much I can't stand your sarcasm?"

There was a pause, a silence just long enough to make the slight shift in his posture noticeable. It brought an aura along with it. She didn't like it.

"Come now, I think it's starting to grow on you." His voice was just a fraction lower, but it was a clear signal of what was to come. She sighed roughly and tried moving away from him again.

"Like a parasite maybe." He caught her by the waist as she passed and used her own movement to turn her back towards him. She was already rolling her eyes by the time their faces met.

"Now that wasn't very nice. I see someone's still a bit testy from earlier." She refused to dignify that with a response, and simply pouted instead. He smiled at her, tilting his head as he brushed back a lock of hair behind her ear. "I was sorry to have missed dinner. It was something I was quite looking forward to," he said. She flinched away from his hand when it lingered in her hair.

"You didn't miss much," she said.

"I missed you."

"Tch. I just saw you a few hours ago." She couldn't help the small burst of laughter that escaped her at that. She looked at the wall and gave it an incredulous smile. He took a small step forward, making it so she no longer had enough room to ignore him, and waited until her eyes inevitably found their way to his before speaking.

"I missed seeing you. It angers me that Roldan was the first to see you put together so beautifully and not I," he said, and she had to swallow down whatever sort of reaction she may have had to a genuine compliment like that. She was still upset with him. "It isn't right that you should frown at yourself, when I don't think I have ever seen you so lovely. Your eyes are fluttering; I wish to see them joined by a smile." -She glared up at that however, having to stop him there before the bullshit took affect.

"Yeah, well, the only one to blame for that is yourself. Roldan mentioned you were busy. And I can imagine that whatever it is you're off doing with Liana is more important than playing house." She tried not to let her true emotion show when she said that, while completely ignoring his compliments. She failed. Jareth leaned towards her a bit.

"You're still angry over that? I told you what you wanted to know, didn't I?" he asked. Sarah crossed her arms over her chest. He was getting too close.

"I don't know. Probably not. What matters is that you only bothered to tell me after I walked in on you."

"Sarah, I believe we've already had this discussion," he said.

"Yeah, we did." She glared and pulled away from him, successful in hiding her surprise when he actually let go. She almost faltered for a moment, assuming he wouldn't let her budge, and so had no real destination in mind when attempting to in the first place. She ended up only a few steps away, turning back to watch him as if he may pounce at any moment. "What?" She eyed him strangely at the way he just stood there staring at her like he was privy to something she didn't know about. It annoyed the fuck out of her.

"Is it a crime to simply look?" he asked. She narrowed her eyes on him, not buying his appeasing tone for a minute.

"Why, is there something on my face?" she asked, sarcastically. Jareth moved to sit on the end of her bed, and leaned forward to rest his forearms on his knees. She stood a little straighter.

"Aside from a scowl? No."

"Then why are you just staring at me?" she asked, sounding like she was annoyed that he wasn't doing something worse instead. She'd figured he would have been clawing all over her by now. She should be relieved he was just sitting there. Or maybe it was this build up that made her all the more anxious.

"You look very nice. I'm simply taking it in," he said. Okay...now that threw her for a loop. What happened to Mr. Manhandle? Since when had Jareth ever been so restrained? Was this a joke? Was she dreaming? Hadn't she just been wishing for a nicer, calmer Jareth?

"Before you ruin it by throwing me around again, right?" she asked. Jareth rose a bored eyebrow at her.

"You're just determined to ruin every one of what could otherwise be very pleasant meetings, aren't you?" he asked, losing most of his cheerful tone in an instant. Sarah huffed. Hmph, she knew it was just a show...

"No, but you made it pretty clear earlier what sort of meeting this was going to be. And knowing that, I'd rather we just skipped all your mock-pleasantries. I could do without the mind-fuckery for one night." She'd started inching back as she'd said that. Yes, she may have just cast herself into her own nightmare here, but at least this one came with less bullshit.

"Excuse me?" Jareth asked, not sure yet if he wanted to be angry with her. She seemed like she was still set on the same war path from earlier, and there were numerous ways in which to use that to his advantage.

"Oh please. You told me flat out you were going to punish me for all of my _indiscretions_. If you're going to whip me, just whip me. Don't tell me I'm pretty before hand."

For a moment, Jareth was silent, hovering between one reaction and the next. He ignored her cattish demeanor. He refused to let her ruin this for him. No, instead he took his sweet time just...observing. He stared at her, and though his eyes never left her face, he saw everything.

She stood tall before him, her back straight and her feet firmly rooted. Omitting her scowl, there was something stoic about it, something to be revered, and so he did. Her hair was sleek and curled, and shone with the candle light. Her eyes were bright, beaming against the smooth cream of her skin, skin which vibrated with the potential energy of tantalization, just waiting for the moment it would be kissed and caressed by him. Her dress, a radiant emerald, hung from her shoulders and hips so wantonly, it was all he could do not to imagine it falling gingerly down her sides. His eyes ran from nose to toe over her, for about the hundredth time now, but still the feeling eating away at his insides didn't lessen any. He had wondered what she would look like all put together, and he had not been left disappointed. For as little effort as she had put into it, she was beautiful, and he was...excited. When he looked upon her, he saw the future; he saw the many nights in distant yet to comes when that dress really would fall by the graze of his finger tips. He saw the inevitability, of the dreams he had when her first look upon him would be resigned and appeasing, and when her body would lax into him rather than tense against him. He saw that future drawing near, and the happiness he knew would follow. And though he knew this night was not one of those to come, he was determined to savor this small glimpse all the same.

And so he waited, dragging this moment out as if the anticipation were the most euphoric foreplay. She continued to scowl at him, a look he knew well and knew well enough to see through. She put on a tough facade now, but he knew better. She had been so sad as he watched her at the mirror, staring at herself as she waited for him. And she _was_ waiting for him. He wondered why she had stopped; he wondered why, in her seclusion, she had looked so solemn. He chose to ignore the fact that deep down, he knew the reason. He thought back, back to when he'd first lain eyes upon her as she pulled the sleeve from her shoulder, to the moment when she was about to ghost through his fancies, and was surprised to have felt not avidity but rather...uncertainty.

He really had been looking forward to dinner that night, to see Sarah start fitting into the part. He'd ran into Roldan in the hall after she had left to go running, and had applauded the idea of starting official gatherings. Starting a proper routine would be good for her; and give them each an opportunity to engage with each other all at once. He was curious to see how the whole thing would work out, but even more so was he curious to see Sarah in general. While it hadn't been mentioned, Jareth knew Roldan would try to enforce the dress code on her, and wondered how epic of a tantrum she would throw in response. As the hour grew near, he actually found himself feeling somewhat excited, and was therefore greatly displeased when he found his matters taking longer to resolve than preferred (he wasn't willing to confront Liana on her ploy yet, so he'd had to see to things himself). And while one part of him had no problem forsaking a few meetings and contract signings for just half a chance to see her all dolled up, the more responsible part knew better than that. It was only one dinner after all. They had a life time of those to come.

That was why he wasted no time in seeking her out once he was free of obligation. That was why

he was suddenly anxious again to find dinner had already finished. And that was why he was so relieved that he'd found her just in time. Truth be told, he was almost certain that she would refuse to dress herself up, if not for him then certainly not for Roldan, surely. When he walked in on her changing, he expected it to be from leggings into her strange nightwear. But she wasn't. Actually, she wasn't changing at all. She was just standing there, looking somber and resigned, just staring at herself, silent and so serene. He stood there for minutes, waiting for her to notice, she always did. But not now. No, this time she gave him the time to gaze at her and have his fill. And the more he looked at her, the more his feelings of readiness began to wane, leaving him almost as dazed as she. And he adored that moment of weakness, that her profile alone had the power to smite him so sweetly. He adored that he was allowed a glimpse of what lurked behind her armor, no matter how sobering it was; for her melancholy was not depressing, it was liberating. Now he knew that something other than anger and resentment resided in her thoughts of him. For what he saw was not sadness for the things she'd lost, it was longing for the things she did not yet have. A longing from which he could latch onto and make his own. And as he stared at her now, he saw the beauty of that longing churning about her scowl. He saw it in her eyes. And he saw it in the defense of her anger. To say he understood now, was to say he had known all along. And that level of subtle conviction was all he needed to re-ignite his verve.

As Sarah held her stare down with Jareth, she thought she saw something deeper within his gaze, a change maybe, something she couldn't describe. It was as if his eyes were now boring into her, but she wasn't feeling this same kind of intensity towards him in return. She wondered what he was thinking about, why he was just staring at her that way. In truth, she was about to pipe up again, just to break the awkward tension starting to build between them; but just as she was about to open her mouth, she saw him twitch. Saw? No, she sensed him twitch. And in that split second, it was like a decision had been made, a switch flicked off. And whatever it was that she had sensed from him was now barred. She recognized this kind of conviction from him, and knew it couldn't be good. It usually came before something awful happened.

She watched him like a hawk when he stood and slowly made his way to her. She didn't bother running, having learned it was best to just face him head on...usually. His aura was dark as he gazed down at her, a different kind of malevolence from earlier.

"At what point did I say you were to be whipped?" he asked, catching her off guard yet again. She bit her lip as she held his gaze. They had only been staring each other down for a few seconds, but for some reason, she had a feeling it had been much longer than that.

"Don't bother trying to mess with my head. I know why you came here. You're right on schedule. The only time you make for me is to _teach_ me how to control myself. And lately that's been by pissing me off and tossing me around. So just get on with it already so I can fight back."

"You seem to have it all figured out, don't you?" he asked, and stood over her a little straighter. "I told you your actions today would be revisited. I did not specify how." She flinched back at the ominous tone in his voice, giving him a clear opening to take another step towards her, and another and another, until he had her slowly backing herself into a corner.

"Alright then, enlighten me." He rose another eyebrow at her unwavering audacity.

"Are you liable to actually listen? Or are you just going to presume to know all the awful despicable torments I have planned for you, like always?" She glared at him as he encroached that one final step, moving so close she had to raise her head just so she wouldn't be distracted by the proximity of his chest. His sneer was a sly one, one he tried to keep restrained. He leaned towards her and narrowed his eyes on hers. And for a brief moment, she saw that _something_ in them, something that didn't match up with the rest of him. She saw through the bars on his cage, and wondered what was really on his mind and why he needed to guard it. He however, seemed determined to keep those thoughts firmly restrained. "Keep assuming everything I have planned for you is wicked, and I may be less inclined to bother trying to do something nice," he said, bringing her back to the moment, and forcing her to blink away the strange twilight his gaze had pulled her in to. She looked at him anew, and it was like the glimmer had never been there, like a shade had been thrown over the bars. The palpability of this change frightened her, and so she instead gulped back the intimidation she felt at the intensity of his new stare.

"Can you blame me for being a little on edge?" she asked, and had to use every once of self-restraint she had left to suppress the shudder that overtook her when his lips were suddenly tingling against her ear. Everything in the air around them became heightened, his proximity dangerous, and he whispered,

"Oh my dear, you're not on edge. You're dancing on razorblades." Her eyes darted around the room then, and she realized he had her against a wall. When did that happen? Light wisps of his hair brushed against her cheek as he kissed the spot beneath her ear and she shivered. One of his hands stealthily rose to press against the wall to the side of her, caging her in as he kissed her again. Why wasn't she reacting to any of this? She heard his words and felt his actions, but all she could see was that strange glimmer... "I think...you could use a bit of a breather," he said.

"What do you mean?" she asked, going as stiff as a plank when his next kiss held more force.

"You've been so stressed lately, and doing so well under pressure..."

"What?" She asked, trying not to sound as breathy and hopeful as she felt. Her mind was suddenly afloat.

"I told you earlier you were getting better."

"Better?" she repeated, trying to draw out the conversation and regain her equilibrium.

"Yes. Earlier, in the conference room, you were so upset with me, were you not?" he asked.

"Uhm...yes."

"But, it was an anger which was in your control, not one that was forced upon you-"

"What does that have to do with it?"

"That courage you felt upon throwing open that door? That is the state of mind you must be in, in order to keep your own firmly shut." His face was slowly starting to molest her, but she wasn't paying much attention to it, instead distracted with her own little light bulb.

"Wait...so you're saying that-?"

"You're starting to get the hang of it, yes." His voice was muffled in her hair, but that red flag went unnoticed. "I knew using Roldan would help," he then added, causing Sarah 's head to jerk downwards, her confused gaze seeking out his own, and was then faced with an even worse conundrum when he rose his head equally. Their faces were so close, she could swear she felt his eyelashes tickling her own.

"What?" She couldn't really muster anything else, too caught off guard by the icy blue of his irises. He however, seemed totally unaffected by their proximity. Always in control...

"I know you care little for him, and so care even less for his instigations. You didn't care about what he was saying, you didn't take it so personally. The anger was still there, but it allowed you to work through it objectively. So, when given the superior position, you felt you had more control over that environment, no?" His voice was completely casual as he asked her that, something which only made her more on edge. Her brow drew tight, her mind trying desperately to work out of her bluster.

"I, uh..." She was going to say something, she really was; but the words were caught on the tip of her tongue when he shifted, just a tad, a movement so minuscule she shouldn't have even noticed, but she did. She watched as his eyes lowered onto her open mouth and lingered there, and his smile curled when she then pursed those lips and haphazardly cleared her throat.

"So you see...sometimes, I actually am trying to help you," he said, taking her mannerisms for all she was worth. The confidence was back. The malevolence about his eyes; it was even stronger up close. His eyes continued to fixate on her lower lip as she nibbled it. "So, in light of these developments, I may be willing to make a compromise."

"A wh- what sort of compromise?" she asked, much too attentive for her own good. Whether it was anger, suspicion, or tantalization, she would be a liar to say there wasn't some sort of spark between them. And now that she knew what sort of delectable pleasures those vicious hands of his could work on her, it was no secret that that spark had been leaning more and more towards the tantalizing side of things. And, no matter the situation, that was something dangerous. She didn't like it. Not one bit. He tilted his head and took a deep breath, as if the deadlock he had on her now rosy lip were working as his own manner of_ spark_.

"Well...we could continue things the way they have been... Similar to last night, only...less _enjoyable_. Or...we could go back to an earlier round and...celebrate this little victory of yours." His body leaned in closer and brushed against hers. She flattened herself further against the wall.

"You're being confusing on purpose. Just tell me what you're going to do," she demanded, feigning some semblance of control, a facade which quickly gave itself up when one of his hands was suddenly at her neck, his fingers light and tentative as they grazed their way down her front. She stood so still she nearly trembled, and held her breath after feeling a slight pressure in her chest when his hand gently kneaded her breast as it made its way further down, molding to her waist and gripping her hip so that the fabric of her dress shifted up ever-so-slightly. She almost closed her eyes just to focus, but the intensity of his on her face wouldn't allow it.

"Do you like it when I touch you like this?" he asked. She gulped, trying desperately to remember that she was supposed to be very much angry with him. But maybe she still was. Maybe it just didn't matter. His nose nuzzled into the crook of her neck, his lips brushing against her skin in light teases. The heat of his breath against her made her head feel fuzzy, her body unconsciously standing to tiptoe trying to avoid it. "Would you like it more with or without stipulation?" She looked down then, confused.

"Wha-"

"Tell me to touch you." He kept his face in her neck, his eyes closed and his breathing calm, but rose his hand back up the path of her body to settle at her nape.

  



	65. The Road To Nowhere, part 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While unbeknown to her, Sarah has succeeded in obtaining the one thing the Goblin King has desired for hundreds of years -power over the Labyrinth. After being hidden for years from his diabolical wrath, Sarah finds herself alone and vulnerable as Jareth's dark desires are finally aloud to rear their ugly heads. As always, the only question is, are things really as they seem?

"Jare- I..."

"Tell me you want me to touch you...and I will." He rose his head slowly; her body's reaction was to turn her own to meet him, and thus had to recoil herself from the kiss that would have been the result. She was thankful to see his eyes again, it helped give back some of her control.

"And what if I don't?" she asked. His eyes sharpened, another subtle shift to help clear her head.

"Then I'll persuade you," he said, his words slow and terse, not to be trifled with. And just like that, she regained the ability to scowl.

"That's not how choice works, Jareth," she said, firmly.

"That's how this choice works." This time, it was her eyes that narrowed, his spell of seduction thoroughly broken. And oh, was she grateful.

"Then it's not a choice. You really need a refresher on the definition of consent." Her glare and spiteful tone were the last ingredients needed to completely shatter the mood. Jareth's gaze hardened, both of their facades now cast aside. The sensual lax of his pose became more rigid.

"Oh please. I already have your consent," he said, with a condescending sting. Sarah puffed up her chest and stood straight against the wall, rather than leaning against it.

"That's funny, aside from the few times you've bullied me into it, I don't remember ever giving it to you," she snapped. Jareth smiled then, an incredulous, dangerous smile, and gave a wicked laugh to match.

"Oh, but it's there. I can see it, in your eyes," he said, mockingly, arrogantly, assuredly. Sarah's ears tensed from the amount of strain put into her clenched jaw.

"Don't even start. Letting you molest me is merely picking the lesser of two evils. When your only options are foreplay or abuse, I suppose I'd have to agree that I lean more towards the former for the simple sake of self-preservation." Her voice was getting louder fast, and her hands rose to her hips as they often did before her anger truly erupted; but Jareth was having none of that. He flexed his hands on the wall on either side of her, hunkering his shoulders as he leaned into her like a predator stalking its prey.

"Oh, you lean towards it far more than that," he said, and brushed his nose against hers just to match her snarkiness.

"Ya know, you talk so much about chemicals and pheromones and biology, one would think you'd know that the body's reaction to stimuli has nothing to do with mental willingness."

"Ah, that sentiment again. And I believe I've already told you-"

"That you know better than that? But isn't that exactly what I'm talking about? For the hundredth time, just because you think you know I want it and can say that I'm in denial about it doesn't mean a thing."

"Oh, but my dear, it means more than you realize." Her confidence faltered for just a second at the wickedness that seeped from his eyes and into his words. She chose to keep herself quiet and let him say what he so obviously wanted to. "See, what you haven't taken into account, my darling little psychologist, is that I have literally been inside your head. I have seen thoughts you don't even realize are there. And so, when I say I know your desires, your facades, and yourself better than you do, I _mean it_." And from the level of conviction his stare was boring into her, she gathered that he really did. That only made her more outraged. She shook her head and huffed in frustration.

"Bull," she said, and tried her best to swat away the cage his arms had around her, moving to push against his chest when that effort proved naught. He caught her wrists and pushed her back against the wall with a laugh, unaware that that moment of contact was to be the last straw.

"Ugh!" she exclaimed, through grinding, gritted teeth. "You love this, don't you?" she yelled again, only growing more vehement at the way his apparent amusement towards her only grew. She fisted her hands and started pulling viciously in futile fury, growling and groaning and gruffing, using the spastic movement of her body to try to wrangle free, but it was simply no use. So instead she closed her eyes and seethed, thinking it would be better to just scream at him rather than end up injuring herself trying to escape. "You love feeling like a predator, don't you? constantly riding the high before a kill. It's just so much fun lording yourself over me that you won't ever actually pounce. You think you know me so well, but I know you a lot better than you realize as well. You're a sociopath, a total psycho-narcissist. Everyone and everything is beneath you, including me. I'm just a pawn for you to play with, like a cat torturing a mouse. You act like you know it all and have everything figured out, but you haven't got a clue if this is how you intend to get me crawling to you. You're one big stupid contradiction." She was truly shouting at him now, each word coming out louder than the last. Her hands were fisted so tightly they were going numb, but she didn't care. All she could focus on was the expression of unwavering resolve carved into his face. She was so focused on that, that she failed to notice his grip on her become lax, or the proximity between their respective gazes becoming shorter as her chest inched herself towards him with each heavy pound of her angry little heart. She was glaring so hard, waiting for his response, she was sure there was steam shooting out her nose. She gave him that moment for pivotal rebuttal, the one she was sure he would be swinging back at her any second now. Her body braced, awaiting the impact of when he pushed her back against the wall again, or when he constricted his hands around her wrists. She waited for his gaze to darken, for him to give her that horrible dastardly grin. And that was why she was completely befuddled when none of that happened.

"Alright."

And then it stopped. The fire was gone. She opened her mouth, but the wind had been sucked away. She blinked at him, abhorred, and scowled, thrust immediately into complete disconcertion at the way one simple word could completely blow apart her eminent crescendo -one that she wanted so desperately. One of her feet flexed backwards, leaving her marginally aware of the fact that she was no longer as close to the wall as she once was, and her eyes began to peer around as if caught in a charade. This moment of bewilderment passed quickly however, and gave way to something incredulous.

"...Alright? Alright what?" she asked, with an affronted and profoundly audacious tone. She was still hovering on a moment of irate climax, and so it took her a second to register the neutral, and maybe even pleasant aura that had mysteriously settled around her. And what was more bewildering, was that it was coming from Jareth. There was a pause before his response, one which she thought was intentional.

"You say my current path of conduct will not get you crawling to me. Fine. Tell me what will," he said, so candidly and emotionally stable that she had to take another moment to calm herself down.

"Excuse me?" she asked, as equally abashed as moments before. _What in the? How is he? Hadn't we been on the verge of a huge blow-out just now! Ugh! What the fuck! God damn mercurial Faerie bastard!_ Her insides were screaming, her fury infuriated to have been denied satisfaction. She refocused her eyes on him, and saw a sharpness which had been well masked until now. What the? Why was he so well controlled? Why was she so crazy? Had he been like this all along? Just standing there while she screamed like a fool? Ah! Why?! Her anxiety boiled, and continued to do so until she reached a point where she could think clearly again, at which point she had to stop herself from growing enraged anew after realizing that the point he was making, was that instead of using his anger against her, he was quite effectively turning her own anger against itself. With that in mind, she took one good deep breath and shoo'd it all away.

"You heard me quite clearly. Tell me what it is I have to do to get you to stop lying to yourself." Her eyes, which had been closed, snapped open with sudden irritation for having her meditation interrupted. His look was an aloof one, one that feigned ignorance, but it was the seriousness of his eyes that both cemented and betrayed it. She looked at him, then rolled her eyes to the ceiling as she slouched against the wall and shook her head incredulously. He rose a brow slightly when she laughed at him.

"Ugh, wow, it really is no use isn't it? You're so dense it's unbelievable," she said, burnt-out, fed up, and utterly baffled; out of everything she'd said, he took that one line and somehow managed to work it in his favor...God, this man.

And oh, how that man in question stood, like the proud manipulative deviant he'd always aimed to be, and scanned his eyes over her poor ambivalent body, waiting for her to glance away so he could claim the opportunity he'd been searching for all through her rant.

He was thankful that she had leaned against the wall of her own volition, for it left her unaware of his movements when he stepped forward, until their bodies pressed together at least. Her gaze shot back to him in a flash, and the not-so-subtle annoyance in her eyes told him she was internally scolding herself for letting her guard down. He ignored it however, determined to prove right the hypothesis that he might snuff out her antagonism with his own impartial composure. A hypothesis which he only became more confident in when, upon the slight tilt of his head and a caress of her cheek, he felt a begrudging shiver run down her spine. She kept her head lowered and turned away from him in spite of herself, but her hidden scowl did nothing to hinder his hand as it went from her cheek, down her neck, over her breast and waist as it neared her hip just as before. She was as still as a statue as he did this, but he resigned, in quiet victory, to touch his forehead to hers; as the subtle hitching of her breath and the soft gulps she tried to mask in the back of her throat were all he needed to know where her frustrations truly laid. He closed his eyes as he thought over his next action. His hand, which had been clasped around her hip, moved to splay around her backside, moving lower until locking down at the junction of her thigh. She flinched in response, and he figured it was probably over whether or not she wanted to try getting away from him again. But he was too close now, any amount of effort, meager or not, would be in vain -even she knew that. His fingers began inching up the skirt of her dress.

"You can diagnose me with as many mental disorders as you wish," he began to say, the force of his breath at her temple making her shiver again, and almost distracting her from her quickly shortening skirt. She cringed and, in the only way she could think of to successfully bar herself from him, rose her arms and wrapped them around herself. "But, you can't tell me I'm wrong when I do this-" She wasn't sure at what point his hand had made it from her back to her front, but was made fully aware of the transition when two of the fingers on said hand bi-passed the lace of her underwear and drove straight into her sex. She gasped and went as straight as a plank against the wall. His free hand left the wall to take hold of her thigh, yanking it upward so she had to stand on tiptoe. A murmur escaped her from the adjustment, and she closed her eyes to focus on anything other than the feeling of his fingers inside her...especially once they started to move...slowly at first, sensually...agonizingly. His forehead was still pressed against the side of hers, yet another proximity she'd all but forgotten. How did she end up in this situation so quickly? "Take a moment, and feel your heart fluttering so sporadically. Feel the temperature in your cheeks rising, and your lungs becoming heavier as your breathing becomes thick and labored. No matter what you say, I KNOW you enjoy this, more than just simple action and reaction. You enjoy it, you crave it, and you WANT it: because deep down you know that there is no reason not to." His thumb joined his fingers, moving in circles around her clit, and he angled his head downwards, breathing warm air down her neck. The feeling caused a constriction deep in her chest. She started breathing more heavily. "I watched you standing there in the mirror for minutes. You had the opportunity to change, to make yourself more secure as you would say. But you didn't. What were you thinking just then? What were you waiting for? I can't help but thinking that...it might have been me." She jerked her head away from his claim, still more focused with fighting herself rather than him.

"Come off it. The only reason I'm wearing this stupid thing is because Roldan told me to," she snapped, and opened her eyes to glance around the room incase any new means of escape had miraculously appeared. He turned his head and kissed her cheek.

"And since when are you one to listen to Roldan?" he asked, and never in her life did she think Roldan's name could be made to sound as sexy as it was just then. His voice had reduced itself to a deep rumble, a clear sign he was going all out to put the moves on her. She needed to stay above it before anymore lines got blurred.

"Since you gave him the liberty to be a world class ass," she said, keeping her eyes on the doors as she spoke, using them as a means of grounding herself. It didn't make sense that she got caught up in his touch the way she did. They were just hands, hands which could only do so much. And it wasn't like this feeling was new. She should be getting used to it by now. But she wasn't. If anything, she lost more control each time they grazed her. Ironically, this thought worked in distracting her, allowing her immunity for the next couple of seconds.

The hand holding her leg released it and traveled up under her skirt to grip her waist, unlike Sarah, Jareth had yet to be pulled from the moment.

"He may have been the reason you put in on, but he's not the reason you have yet to take it off," he said, inhaling her scent as he ran his nose along her cheek. "You wanted me to find you, to walk in at just the right moment. You search for that moment of surprise, that brief flare of excitement. You left your dress on, because you wanted me to see you in it." She scoffed at that on reflex and turned her gaze back towards him, now confident in her own conviction. Another bit of irony surfaced then, that it was he who would reduce her to these wanton states, and yet it would be his own words which yanked her clear out of them. She met his gaze with a brusque brow, but his sultry monologue beat her to the punch. "You wanted me to see how beautiful you are, and to adorn you with praise so you could reject it; because that is the only way we seem to be able to function."

"You really are a brick wall," she said, still breathy despite herself. The good news was that she was no longer concerned with being angry with him. The bad news, she was no longer _concerned_ with being angry with him. He smiled against her neck, finding some satisfaction in that he may have been correct in his hypothesis, and taking his victory by savoring the way her body undulated with the rhythm of _his_ movements.

"That is only appropriate," he said, nonchalantly bringing a third finger to stretch her further, just to see the way her eyes closed and her mouth dropped open without her knowledge. "How was it that Davion described us? An unstoppable force crashing against an immovable object? Whom do you think is really which?" He was speaking, but she wasn't listening, and that was fine with him. One upside to her menstrual cycle was that it made her more easily aroused, or in her own terms _hornier_ than usual, whether she acknowledged it or not. It was just all too easy to get her all hot n' bothered, regardless of her original mood. And that was one trait he would both sadly miss and greatly look forward to in the near future. "Believe it or not, I will break through that wall of yours, even if I have to take it down brick by brick." His lips grazed her neck as he spoke, ending in a slow sensual kiss. She rose even further up the wall, tilting her head back as she moaned. His lips moved to the hallow of her neck, kissing and licking, moving so leisurely that Sarah was about ready to forget why exactly she had been dreading this meeting in the first place, to throw it all to the wind and say_ fuck it, what's the harm in letting him make me feel good for another five minutes? Taking advantage of something works both ways doesn't it? _She couldn't believe her thoughts, or her own reaction for that matter when he suddenly stopped everything cold-turkey and walked away from her.

Sarah stood, alone and abashed, her thighs squeezing together in an effort to smother the shameful hot mess between them, and unable to understand why exactly Jareth was now walking away from her without preamble, or even a second glance. _Um..._

"Wha? Where are you going?" she asked. Jareth paused and turned back to throw her a glance over his shoulder. For a moment, he felt the urge to come back to her, but the appalled tone with which she spoke told him this was the better course of action. He rose a detached brow as he said,

"Hm? Oh, you passed."

Sarah recoiled in suspicion, but her eyes grew with confused horror.

"Passed? What the hell? Passed what?" she asked, in a near exclamation. She eyed him up and down, but his shield of cordial indifference was firmly in place, and with it came an aching between her legs. She rose a hand to her stomach in hopes of soothing it. He turned a little more to face her better.

"Tonight's round. You passed. You kept your anger firmly rooted against your actions. I told you it would be revisited. How was it that you put it? The only time I make for you is to teach you how to control yourself? I've just been living up to more of your sour expectations of me, as always," he said, in a manner that would have made the accusation of what they had just been doing seem ludicrous to the common man. Sarah's expression only turned more aghast as she regarded him, and she moved to lean up off the wall.

"Wha? You mean- you-" She couldn't finish, just couldn't even get the damn words out. It was unbelievable. Did this demon's mind-fuckery go to no end?!

"I told you, you seem to be able to control your output when in a situation you feel you have equal control over. What did you think we were doing?" he asked, more than suggestively, to which Sarah felt her head lower. What? Was it shame that caused her to do that? Probably. But she kept her head lowered so she could think. _A situation I can control? But I wasn't in control just now, he was. Wasn't he?_ That's when she realized it, the one hidden truth which would seal her damnation. Jareth may have been in physical control, but hadn't she justified it by toying with the possibility of using him to the advantage of her own pleasure? Is that what he meant? Is that how she gained control? Why? Why? Why? Why did that have to be true? She was unaware, or simply didn't care rather, of the way Jareth was watching her from across the room. He saw every inch of the turmoil that played openly and disturbingly across her lowered face, a realization no doubt he had been hoping she'd make all along. He stood there, utterly relishing in her discomfort, and thought maybe, just maybe, they might walk through this gateway together. He started laughing to himself, effectively calling her attention. She looked up at him with a strange, angry, pleading scowl. "You know, my offer was still genuine. If you wish for my touch, all you have to do is ask," he said, going out on a limb in thinking that she might actually take it. But her scowl only grew more fierce. Hm, nope.

"Screw you," she snapped, like a wounded animal left to die. In a way, that was quite true. Jareth couldn't help but laugh again.

"Oh, I think I stuck a nerve. That must mean I'm right. But...we both knew that," he said, with a one-sided smirk that had no place being there. He turned away from her, raising his nose up in the air as he did so, though making sure to hold her gaze out of the corner of his eye.

"So what, you've made you're point, so you're just going to leave now?" she asked, accusingly, and he could only shake his head at the ignorance of her hypocrisy. Never one to leave without the last word, he turned back around, one last time.

"Yes, actually. I think you could do with a night of stewing as you wallow back to the point of no return," he said, with a surprising snap. She shut her mouth and braced a hand against the wall. He narrowed his eyes a little and took a step forward. "Feel that pulse, that throbbing deep inside you?" he pointed a finger at the hand over abdomen, which she reflexively clawed into her gown, "Know that I put that there, and that I, not you, am the one who refuses it release." She gulped and glanced down, conflicted over the anger and embarrassment which wrestled with one another for dominance within her psyche. When she rose her head, she had to bite the inside of her cheek just to maintain stance. He saw her struggle and quickly became bored with it. With one last highhanded huff, he rose an eyebrow and looked away. "If you should ever swallow your pride, you know where I'll be."

And with that he turned on a dime and headed out through the door which led to his chambers. The sound of the door as it shut behind him seemed loud and boisterous to her as she stood, like an idiot, gawking from the other side of the room. The hand over her abdomen clenched tighter, for she was all too aware of the throbbing Jareth had just described. After a moment, she tore her eyes away from the door and pushed off the wall with a grunt. What had even happened just now? What the hell had been happening during their entire encounter? She couldn't fathom it, couldn't fathom how, no matter what it was, somehow Jareth made it his prerogative to turn everything into a competition, one that he made sure he always won. What had she been expecting? Or more importantly, what had she been wanting to happen? She was almost certain he was going to rough her up some, but she was also fairly certain it would end with mutual irritation and a few naughty touches and one resentfully satisfied self. And what did that mean about her? Had she been wanting that course of action all along? Of course she had. While she had no problem lying to Jareth about it, there actually was a little bit of truth in his claims.

While it wasn't true in most past cases, when it came to the few semi-consensual indiscretions Jareth had put her through, she had enjoyed herself. Very much so in fact, and was prepared to do so again at her own discretion. She'd already acknowledged that this made her a hypocrite, and had also figured that had been a part of Jareth's plan all along. So what did that make this then? What exactly did he want from her this time around? Did he actually expect her to cave out of sheer sexual frustration and come running into his room? HA! Fat chance of that!

Sarah found herself pacing the length of the wall as she ranted and raved. She knew what she wanted, and she knew how to get it. It was only her stubbornness and morals that were getting in the way. Jareth was right about that too. But none of that mattered. None of that mattered because Sarah might have been willing to put aside her pride and morals if it weren't Jareth's own and lack there of!

"Maybe if he would just be a nice, normal person and try actually courting me or charming me or apologizing or SOMETHING that isn't his _God given right_, I might actually see a reason to fuck the stupid crazy asshole! But noooooooo, he can't reduce himself to becoming my equal, no that would be too easy for him. He expects me to just give up and swoon at his feet. And for what reason? God, please tell me the reason!" She was actually yelling at the ceiling as she stomped in circles, flailing her arms about like a madwoman, and that she was. It was only after acknowledging such that she forced herself into a chair, clawing her hands in her hair as she groaned hopelessly, before running them flat down her face. "Ughhhhhrrrrrmmmmmmm. I wish Liana was here," she mumbled, not sure why, of all things, she was wishing for that, as she was still pretty sure she was suspicious of the woman from her eavesdropping earlier; but regardless, she was upset, and it seemed that when ever she was upset she wished for, not her father, not Karen, not her best friend Becky, but for Liana - a woman she barely even knew. This thought worried her, because she didn't really know why that was.

She let out another pitiful groan and slouched back in her chair. She sat there like that for a minute or two in silence, hoping she might just melt away and seep between the floorboards. She thought she could feel her feet turning into puddles when she heard a knock at the door.

_Knock. Knock. Knock._

Sarah pressed paused on her emotional upheaval to remove her face from the nest of her hands and gaze back at the intruding sound. She turned and looked back at the set of doors, blinking at them as if her ears were playing a trick on her. She waited a moment, and then the knock came again. She drew her brow on the epicenter of the sound, uncertain of whether or not she should/wanted to answer it. _Who in world would be knocking on my door at this hour?_ she thought. She'd already dismissed Mariella, and couldn't think of a reason she would come back, nor of a reason why Roldan would pay her a visit, reasons for Jareth went without saying. That left one name on her lonely list of new acquaintances, but she couldn't believe it right away. The coincidence would be too perfect. She felt like Pandora with her hand on the box as she reached for the handle of the door. For some reason, this felt...not right. There was no way it could possibly be-

"Liana?"


	66. The Road To Nowhere, part 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While unbeknown to her, Sarah has succeeded in obtaining the one thing the Goblin King has desired for hundreds of years -power over the Labyrinth. After being hidden for years from his diabolical wrath, Sarah finds herself alone and vulnerable as Jareth's dark desires are finally aloud to rear their ugly heads. As always, the only question is, are things really as they seem?

The smile, which had long been in preparation, gave way to that of a taken back and possibly even mortified gape in proper reflection to Sarah's own as Liana stood awkwardly just beyond the threshold. Sarah had flung open the door so suddenly, with such unexpected fervor it was surprising even to her, but what was more was that she was pretty sure Sarah hadn't even realized her own energy. She met her in the eye, taking in her confused scowl and vehement energy, and tilted her head, just slightly, a small adjustment in posture so to acclimate to the cumbersome amounts of tension forcing its way from Sarah straight unto her. She took in a breath, her lips twitching back into the mold of a smile and fluttered her eyelashes in a measure of reassurance. Apparently, she'd come at just the right time.

"Sarah. You're looking rather...agitated. Have I come at a bad time?" she asked, forcing her tranquil facade back into place as she tried to manage the small tremor of instability that came from such close contact. Her smile twitched again, but it went unnoticed.

Sarah's initial response came in the form of several blinks, as if she weren't sure she were really there. After a second she straightened herself up and opened her mouth to speak, but only looked more uncertain.

"I uhh- no. No. It's just- I was just- I wasn't really expecting you is all," Sarah said, fumbling over her words as well as her thoughts. She smiled like a fool and shook her head, simultaneously stepping out of the way to usher the woman in. She couldn't explain why, but seeing her just now had made her feel so flustered all of the sudden. "Please, come in. It's been forever since I've seen you."

"I know, and I do apologize. I've been rather ...preoccupied these past few days," Liana said, keeping her hands tightly folded in front of her as she entered the room. She looked to the floor and waited for her breathing to slow and grow more shallow. _My, this is much worse than I expected..._she thought. If it were up to her, she would have continued to stay away for another day or two... But the words had been said, there was no helping it.

Sarah shut the door behind them.

"Oh, that's okay. You've been trying to figure out the whole random earthquake thing, right?"

Liana turned to glance over her shoulder, wanting to be cautious of Sarah's whereabouts as she followed after her towards the parlor area. She hadn't expected to be summoned...She hadn't thought Sarah would be that powerful yet.

"Yes...I suppose you could call it that. I take it Jareth is the one who has clued you in?"

"Um, yeah, he told me."

Sarah kept her eyes lowered as she scuttled across the room, b-lining it towards the dining table like there was a time limit. Her heart was all a flutter, and even though she had just been ranting and raving to herself, this was something different. She sat down, smoothing out her skirt and patting the vacant spot next to her. Out came the much too eager _Are you hungry?'_s, followed by the traditional _Would you like some tea?_ The curt nod she received in response was not nearly as settling as she'd hoped. She rang her tiny bell and waited. Liana, not wanting to come off as conspicuous, politely took her seat.

There was an unhealthy silence as they waited.

"Sarah, forgive me for being blunt, but you seem bothered," Liana finally said, as if the tension were getting to her. Though both appeared cool, she could feel the unsteady tremble coursing through the line which bonded them, so strongly that it was quite definitely affecting her. She needed to soothe it soon. She watched as Sarah gave a hard incredulous smile and rolled her eyes to the ceiling and back again.

"Aren't I always?" she said. There was a tension to Sarah's words, but not one that Liana might have assumed. She turned away from the woman and began tapping her fingers against the table, impatiently searching for the arrival of the waiter. Liana's brow drew on this observation, wondering what pressed so heavily on her mind that she would wish for her company and yet act as if in recoil.

"Let me guess, it has something to do with Jareth?"

Sarah huffed at the mention of Jareth's name, unconsciously shaking her head to herself as she grumbled in a grimace at the still closed door. She tried to keep her eyes off of Liana, struggling with a strange contradiction of emotions. She was worried that she was here, but she was also relieved. She was suspicious, yet trusting, insecure, yet relaxed. She wasn't sure if it were really just her sudden appearance that made her so ambivalent, but regardless, she found herself unable to deal with it. So in the mean time, she kept her eye on the door, urging it with all her might to fling open and reveal their refreshments. Her wish was granted not a second later.

She straightened herself up as the Goblin set their table and tried to use that split-second's moment to compose herself.

"Hmph, yes. And no...Sorry, I-uh, I'm just a bit spaced out I guess." She kept her eyes lowered as she sipped her tea. Liana started to frown.

"And why is that?" she asked. Sarah's fingers began to tap against her cup. Would it be better to just come out and say it?

"Well...literally, I was sitting here just now wishing you might come by and, well, here you are," she said, quickly, thinking it might help to just voice her concern rather than trying to ignore it. But was that the reason she was so jumbled? Not really.

"Yes...it's strange how those things tend to work isn't it?" Liana's voice was light enough, placid and cheerful as it always was, though this time it seemed she spoke words within words. She hid it well enough from Sarah, who was still too busy managing her own thoughts to pick up on hers, but It only took a few minutes of close observation, for her to see just how badly Sarah was reacting to her presence. Yes...she should have waited a few more days until their bond was in flux again; just another day and everything would have been fine...but Sarah had said the words, and so Liana had no choice; as her master, she had to come. Sarah's newfound ability to summon her could be either a very good or a very bad thing, Liana simply hadn't decided which, though it didn't help that the timing of this discovery couldn't have been worse.

"Yeah...perfect coincidences..."

Sarah's eyes roamed downward to inspect the tablecloth as a hand rose to awkwardly scratch the back of her head. She'd never felt this before, such trepidation about this woman. Every time she saw Liana, she was always filled with instant felicity and peacefulness, and in truth she continued to feel that even now, only this time it was coated with an immense pressure of anxiety and self-doubt. It was paradoxical and disconcerting. She didn't like it.

She hadn't really thought about it since, nor given a single thought to how she would react or even go about reacting, but as it seemed, no amount of mysterious repose could quell the surge of suspicion bearing down on her as she sat in Liana's company.

After that afternoon...regardless of what_ truths_ Jareth had told her, she was still greatly uncertain as to her impression of Liana. She'd heard her voice through the door, heard how wanton and loose it was. She'd heard her speak secrets into Jareth's ear with an obvious flirtation that had nothing to do with whatever story Jareth had concocted to sate her. From the moment she'd first met Liana, she'd felt greatly intimidated by her, and even jealous when paired in thought with Jareth. How was she supposed to act around her now? What was she supposed to even think? Hadn't she told her numerous times that her relationship with Jareth was strictly business? Should she call her out on it? What would she even say? She could feel her courage leaving her before it had even arrived, and began to scrunch into her shoulders as she sagged in her seat.

"Hm..." Liana's murmur went unnoticed as she watched Sarah wage war with herself from across the table. She frowned harder, quickly figuring out what her real issue might be, the reason why she wouldn't look her in the eye. Hm...it seemed her ploy worked a little too well. "Sarah, forgive my haste, but I'm glad you've brought that up, as there was something I wished to discuss with you and hated the thought of waiting another moment," she said, giving her a weak smile when Sarah's head suddenly sprang up, her eyes, once dreary, were now filled with eagerness. It was almost sad.

"Oh? What?"

This time, Liana's fingers were the ones beginning to tap. Sarah wasn't used to feeling flustered? Well, neither was Liana. Damn this acclimation. Why did it have to go both ways? She pursed her lips before responding.

"It's about earlier...in the council chamber," she said, and had to stop herself from wincing the same time Sarah did. The tension became ten times more dense, but strangely it opened a door that was nothing but welcoming. Liana tried her best to hold Sarah's gaze. "I knew you were coming. I could sense you in the hall. And...forgive me, I just feel awful, but I thought it would be a good opportunity to finally give you a bit of an edge. That's why I've come to see you so unexpectedly...I wanted the chance to explain myself."

Sarah perked up in her chair, her troubled demeanor giving way to curiosity. She never expected Liana to come to her...She didn't think Liana was even aware of Sarah's eavesdropping let alone felt bad about what she might have heard.

"What? What do you mean?" she asked. Liana readjusted herself in her seat.

"Well...I could hear you coming, and I thought back to something you once said, about never having the upper hand and thought that maybe I could give it to you." She waved her own hand through the air as she spoke, as if trying to swat away any lingering awkwardness between them. It seemed to work, as Sarah's too often distracted attention became just that.

"Wait...you could hear me coming, but Jareth couldn't?" she asked, her brow furrowing in a perplexing twist. Whether it was a conscious decision or not, that small anomaly succeeded in absolving some of the tumult which plagued the real issue. _Why would Liana be able to sense me before Jareth? Is she really that much more powerful than him?_ she wondered.

"Yes...but I think you're missing the point."

Sarah's eyes flickered up, distracted. "And what is the point, then?" she asked.

"Well...I thought that if you had enough provocation to barge in, it would certainly catch His Majesty off guard, thus giving you the upper hand to finally get a word in, and maybe perhaps even get one out of him..." For the first time ever, Liana sounded unsure of herself. Sarah's already confused expression twisted still. This was out of character for her. No matter what Liana was always the epitome of reservation. Even if she did feel bad, why exactly was she coming off so distressed? And what- what was she saying exactly? A little light bulb went off in Sarah's brain, bringing a light blush along with it.

"So...those things you said, you knew I was listening? You spoke like that because you thought it would..."

"Make you jealous? Yes. Precisely. And it worked, did it not? After all, envy is the most brazen of maladies." The briskness with which Liana spoke made Sarah cringe. She scrunched her brow and looked away in shame. _Jealous? What? No way!_ was what she wanted to exclaim with all her might, but not even her pride would let her tell a lie of that magnitude. She felt a heat of panic burgeoning deep in her chest, one which she tried to swallow back down. She felt like a fool now, no longer concerned with any of her other curious emotions. Liana had been messing with her? Using her non-feelings for Jareth like that both for and against her? ...should she feel _betrayed_? Of all the people she'd met here Liana had been the only one she'd even considered giving her trust to, and then to find out how easily she had been manipulated by her? A voice in the back of her head told her she should feel devastated by this, but that whisper was snuffed out by the relief that came from just knowing that her jealousy was unfounded. Was it really so simple? She found this realization disturbing.

"The barging in part, yes," she mumbled, swallowing her pride and the sour taste that came with it. "The rest however..." Liana leaned forward impulsively and reached out to place a hand over hers.

"Yes, I know. And I am deeply sorry. I sometimes forget His Majesty's short temper. I did not think he would react so harshly. I thought that this would be an opportunity for you to finally level the playing field, but it seems I've only caused you further duress." And her words were completely sincere. It had been choice coincidence that Sarah made her appearance at just the right moment; and yes, it had been a quick decision on her part of how to take advantage of it, but she had thought her plan to be a good one in the moment. She couldn't reveal her true self to Sarah, and thought that maybe if Sarah had enough provocation, had strong enough means to question him, then Jareth would be backed into a corner, and perhaps with or without his explicit words she might have figured it out, figured something out at least...but of course, that didn't happen. What did happen...was nothing of the sort. She could sense from Sarah well enough what happened after she left, and was again faced with the disappointment of having her plans work out in the least desired way. She truly did feel bad for compromising her well being like that...perhaps she herself was becoming irrational...perhaps she was taking on more of Sarah's personality than she should be.

"Yeah...not so much. He told me what you two have been doing lately." Sarah shrugged as she spoke, wanting to just skip over _all that_ and get to something a little more important, that being how much truth there was in what Jareth had told her. Liana found this response pleasing; while she may be able to sense the whirlwind Sarah was in on the inside, she seemed very well composed on the outside. This showed much improvement from the last time they'd met.

"And what is that?" she asked.

"Why don't you tell me," Sarah countered, raising her eyes to lock onto hers, to test her integrity no doubt. Liana gave her her most convincing, assuring grin. And so began phase 2...

"There have been quite a few tremors within the area of the Labyrinth as of late. We have been trying to manage damage control."

Sarah narrowed her eyes on her. That response sounded too...rehearsed.

"Hm...he also said that you were angry with him for not telling me."

Liana's brow rose, as did her free hand as it moved to cover her heart. The one over her hand tightened around Sarah's fingers.

"And I am. That was one of the reasons why I wished for you to intrude on us, so that he would be forced into revealing to you something you should already be clued in on. I believe you understand just as well as I how frustrating he can be when he feels he has made a decision," she said. Sarah slouched back in her seat a little. It was as if the anxiety were never there. How...mercurial.

"Jareth didn't seem to feel the same," she replied.

"Of course he doesn't. He is not just a King, but a man. He thinks all manner of responsibility falls to him and his position and that burdening you with knowledge is both irrelevant and a waste of time." Sarah shot her a dangerous eye at that, to which Liana grinned in kind. "I, however, disagree, and I thought you might as well." The two women held each other's stares, and at some point within the pause Liana sighed with relief. She could feel the tremor fading. Sarah was calming down. Things were going quite comfortably. Perhaps all she needed to equalize was in fact her company? How ironic.

"Hm...well, thanks for standing up for me...even if it did backfire. I mean, you couldn't have known he would freak out...say, how do you know what happened anyway? Did Jareth tell you about it after I left?" Sarah asked, surprised she hadn't thought to question that earlier. Liana's eyes lowered.

"No...he didn't have to." Sarah sat up a little at the slight remorse she caught in her voice. "I...again forgive me, but I lingered nearby...to see what would happen. I could hear some shouting, and saw you storm off afterwards. I merely wished to help-" She cut herself off, feigning dismay, a reaction which registered as genuine to Sarah.

"I...I believe you...I do. But Jareth plays rough, I knew that well before barging in. And...it wasn't that bad, not really. All he did was hold me down and yell. I'm used to that. But...Liana...if you knew I was listening then maybe you'll be more willing to explain...why does Jareth think it's your fault the walls are crumbling?" she asked, again, not wanting to lose sight of the information she so desired by getting caught up in her emotions, knowing that if she let herself tread back to her outrage of that afternoon, there would be no holding back. Liana seemed to appreciate the steady line of questioning as well. It kept things calm.

"Ah...well...You see, this area is prone to seismic activity. Part of my job is to monitor and predict movements and to some extent prevent them. I'll admit, I have been somewhat...distracted lately. I've been busy pestering Jareth in regard to his treatment of you and, perhaps correspondingly, missed the warning signs of several coming tremors. So in a way, I suppose this _is _partially my fault," she explained, tiptoeing around the truth ever-so-precariously. Sarah looked like she was becoming confused again.

"And you said it was his fault because if it weren't for the way he treats me you wouldn't have strayed from your post?" Sarah asked, the tone of her voice alone saying how sketchy that reasoning sounded. Liana sighed subtly. It was soon going to become difficult to keep layering these lies upon one another...

"Yes. But you must forgive his irrationality. This has put him under a great deal of stress you see...It only makes sense that he would seek to place the blame on someone."

There was silence as Sarah mulled all this over. Even with both Liana and Jareth's word, this story was still full of holes. She didn't like it, nor the way Liana would condemn him one minute and then defend him the next. It didn't make sense to her. She chose to ignore that part.

"Hm...well, thank you for feeling the need to explain things to me. I won't lie, I was...confused. I still am, but this helps. So thank you. I...appreciate that you show me so much consideration." She finished her sentence with tea, using it as a shield to hide her worries. Liana eased back, feeling so much better now that the tension had been dissolved.

"Of course, dear. I only wish I could have come sooner. I've been worried about you this past week; but you seem well off. I mean, just look at you, wearing a dress! You look absolutely lovely! No broken bones, no tears, relations with His Majesty must be getting better, surely?" she asked, genuinely happy. She wasn't really sure what to expect upon arriving, though it seemed that things had been getting better in some capacity. She was calmer, more analytical, and though it didn't surface she would even go as far as to say happier. On the other hand, she was also deeply frustrated, confused and resentful. These feelings in particular were much stronger now, and that was deeply worrying. It reminded her that one must always tread lightly when caught in the eye of the storm.

"Oh, don't even get me started on _relations with His Majesty_."

"Hm...I take it something happened not too long ago...just before my arrival perhaps?" she asked, rhetorically of course. She knew very well that something had happened, no doubt it was this very something that caused Sarah to wish for her by her side. But whatever it was, it couldn't have been too bad; at least, from the signals she was picking up, it seemed she was suffering mere frustration, no fear, no hatred, no pain... Perhaps the reason her frustration was so strong was to fill the holes those other emotions had left behind...

"Why would you say that?" Sarah asked.

"You were quite worked up when you answered the door, and I can tell you still are, though you are concealing it well. Tell me what happened," she asked, hoping talking about this would give her successful rapprochement. Sarah leaned forward to rest her cheek on her fist.

"Why? It doesn't matter. It's the same bull shit, just a different day. Oh, sorry. _God, me and my stupid mouth.._." She whispered the end bit, scolding herself for her blasted profanity. She really was trying to do better... _I guess some habits are hard to quit...hm, at least vulgarity is the worst vice I have to deal with... _For some reason, an image of Jareth presented itself in response to that thought. She found that alarming.

"Sarah. Tell me what happened." Unfazed by Sarah's faux pas, Liana's appeasing tone should have been just that, appeasing, even going as far as to gently squeeze the hand she still held; yet the hard scrunch of Sarah's brow gave tell towards the contrary. She watched as Sarah sighed, roughly, and lowered her arm from her jaw.

Now, everything up to this point had seemed tranquil enough, the conversation was steadily afloat. Liana thought she had been keeping a good enough distance away...maybe it was all due to her hand extended over the table, maybe she had relaxed her guard too soon, or maybe it really was a simple truth that one should let sleeping dogs lay; but what ever the reason, there was a stir in the air just then that had Liana instantly regretting ever opening her prodding mouth. Sarah shifted about her seat, and then a rumble began to course between them. It was like a beast had been woken, slowly rousing from a part of her heart that she had sworn was kept dormant.

"I just..."

Sarah flinched, but it was a movement echoed by both women. Liana paled, feeling the spark of a sensation that she shouldn't be, and could do nothing but watch as Sarah then became rigid in her seat. Her aura began to withdraw into herself in a strange churning as Liana hovered in a flash of disbelief. This moment was strange. She knew what this was, she just couldn't believe it. Liana looked down and tried jerking her hand from Sarah's, but was shocked to find herself unable to do so. _What? This...this is Sarah's doing? Oh...oh no._ She could sense that Sarah was closing down, and yet Liana was firmly and dreadfully aware of her imminent combustion.

"Sarah, if you don't want to talk about it, that's fine too-" Liana jumped to attention, but it was no use. The ball was already rolling. Sarah twitched again, she herself feeling a strange pulsing inside, but had no idea where it came from. She scowled and shook her head at the table, a surge of disgust and aggravation quickly storming its way to the surface. It was almost nauseating. What? What was happening? Why did she want to stand up and start screaming all of the sudden?

"It's just that...ugh, I just don't get him!" Sarah turned and shot her head up, fisting her free hand out on the table in front of her. Liana flinched back on reflex. When their eyes met there was a snap in the air, one that wasn't natural. Liana held her breath. "I mean, he says one thing then does the complete opposite and then blames me when it blows up in our faces!" Sarah exclaimed, throwing her hand up in the air and raising her voice. The one holding Liana's stayed firmly glued to the table. Her sudden spike in energy sent a red flag straight to Liana's cortex. Something horrific was imminent, and she needed to think fast and figure out how to deal with it. She still couldn't pull her hand from Sarah's, so instead she sat up a little straighter and prepared for an intervention, but Sarah wasn't ready to let her get a word in just yet. "One minute he tells me all he wants is to make me happy and the next he's throwing me around, getting angry when I don't conform to him and his stupid ideologies, down-talking my intelligence and free will like I'm an inferior species, and then tries to kiss it all away at the end! It makes no sense! Yes, I get that there are certain things I need to do in order to function at court and as a Queen, and yes I get that sometimes my own anger gets out of hand, but does he honestly think that acting like a royally certified bully is going to make this any easier? HE is the one who kidnapped ME. HE is the one who claims to want my happiness, wouldn't it make sense for him to be just a little bit more accommodating rather than just expecting everything out of me right then and there? Jesus, it's only been what, two weeks?!" Sarah's attention landed directly on Liana, and she found herself leaning in over the table as she ranted. She was so vehement, so angry all of the sudden. Something had set her off but she couldn't think of what it was. Her mind was starting to throw thoughts around in a flurry. She couldn't- she didn't- She just couldn't stop. She was getting so worked up it was hard to breathe. And Liana -Liana looked upset. Why would she be upset? Why wasn't she reacting to that instead? "He thinks that just because he's a King and he's all powerful and just so happens to be kinda good-looking that he can just force his will upon me, but guess what, I'm not one of his stupid chamber maids. I'm not one of those foolhardy girls that would kill to be in my position because hey, news flash, my position really isn't that great."

Liana tried her best to worm her way out of Sarah's proximity as stealthily as she could, but she herself was under constraints. She couldn't just leave Sarah's company once she had been summoned, and what was an even worse realization was that it was the force of Sarah's ignorant bond which was currently keeping Liana from at least dashing off towards the other side of the room. She had cemented their tie through the connection of their hands. She hadn't anticipated that. She shouldn't be able to do that. Was her will really so strong? She should have known. She should have been more careful. This was bad; she didn't think Sarah's control over her would be so secure, especially since her power was not yet awoken. The moment their hands touched, Liana could feel the energy transfer between them. It was so sudden, and...so much. It was like a shot of adrenaline times ten had gone straight to Sarah's brain. She could feel her vitality growing immensely, and not knowing what was causing it nor of how to handle it could prove quite dangerous. She could sense Sarah's emotions running rampant, no doubt this would send her into some neurotic fit if she didn't stop it. Time was ticking, each precious second lost in defeat. Liana began to look around the room, her eyes blinking furiously. What to do? What to do? What in the world could she do?

"I mean, how sad is it that after only a couple of weeks that I'm already used to his manhandling? Hell, it barely even phases me anymore! What really bothers me is all the stupid highhanded mind games! Seriously, what the hell! Yes Jareth, I AM ATTRACTED TO YOU. There, I said it, whoopdeefuckinda! But that doesn't mean I'm going to just give in to my massive love lust and forget that he's a Goddamn psychopathic asshole! I mean, he Kid. Napped. Me! He stole everything from me! Please, just give me some time to get over that before I even get started on everything else! And this stupid rape-seduction thing he's got going? Does he really think I'm that stupid?! Yes, I may bitch a lot, but we both know that we both know what's going on. Yes, I like being touched. And yes, he is good at it. But all his stupid haughty dirty talk doesn't make me want anything more out of it. In fact, he's feeding his own damn fire! He thinks I'm in denial? Well it's his actions that are making me act that way. What ever happened to honest seduction? What ever happened to good ol' _hey I like you, do you like me? you wanna head back to my place? No? Well alright how about just coffee then?_No. No, he can't just do that. Nooooo, he has to tell me how wrong I am. He has to tell me how he doesn't have to bother with the tediousness of silly things like oh, I don't know BONDING, because in his mind I'm already bagged n' tagged. Well screw me for being offended!" She had to stop to take a breath, allowing Liana to seize an opportunity.

"Sarah, perhaps you should try to consider his nature. He is a man who has had to acquire the things he desires by intense manipulation and ruthless trickery. It's so thoroughly integrated into his being that he may not have even stopped to consider an alternate means of winning you over. He sees you as an opponent, remember? Whether it's politics or love, he is determined to win by the only means he knows how." It was a weak attempt, yes she knew, but talking her out of these fits usually worked. And besides, there wasn't much else she could do. If Sarah's anger towards Jareth had become the dominant force driving this, then ignorant or not, Sarah now had the upper hand in this strange little power-play. She couldn't run, couldn't take back the energy which rightfully belonged to Sarah in the first place...No, her only hope was to calm her down before she had an emotional breakdown.

Sarah turned and gave Liana a most irritable and condescending look.

"Oh, bullshit. That is the most worthless excuse yet. He's not a child. And if he's so smart and manipulative, then he should be able to comprehend other people's psychologies. He should be able to empathize or at least sympathize. He should be able to figure out why what he is doing is bad and why it upsets me, and then go on and try to correct it. I don't know which I find more disturbing, the idea that he really just has no comprehension of the hell he's putting me through, or the thought that he knows exactly what he's doing and simply doesn't care." She closed her eyes and scowled, sighing angrily as she viciously slammed a hand down on the table.

"Um, Sarah..." Liana jerked, but still couldn't remove her hand from hers. She felt a pulse then, a big one.

"But what does he really expect? Is that how he usually gets women? Oh, what am I saying, I bet he's never had to put this much effort into a lay, ever. In his own words, women come in droves crooning at his feet. Of course he would assume I wouldn't be any different! Well I am. I have a little thing called respect, and I'm not about to go to level with someone who won't offer me the same in return." From the way she spoke, it seemed as if Sarah had no idea that she was squeezing Liana's hand with all her might, nor of the increasing frantic nature of her raving. Liana began to struggle then, actually wincing in an effort to evade Sarah's hold.

"Sarah, please, calm down-"

"I mean, what am I supposed to do? Honestly, I'm blank! He has all the cards. I have nothing to go against him with. I keep thinking back to what you told me before, about using myself as a weapon, but how? I'm not strong enough, I'm too emotional. Jareth's the type of person who thinks it's all fun and games until someone gets hurt. Well I'm afraid that I'll end up a whole lot worse than that, and I don't mean physically." She was near shouting now, perched up in her seat, shaking her head and flailing her free hand. The hand which captured Liana's held so tightly her knuckles were turning white, but she was hardly aware of her surroundings anymore.

"Sarah, let go of my hand, please-" The struggle in Liana's plea was self-evident, but Sarah failed to hear it. "Please, you're hurting me-"

"It's just...why does he have to be such an asshole all the time? Why can't he just be nice? I know he can be. I've seen him do it. Sometimes, sometimes I really like him. Sometimes I think we might actually be making progress with one another. But just when I'm ready to start liking him more, he goes and tears it all apart! It's always one step forward, five steps back. And why you ask? I have no idea! He's not stupid. I know his ego gets in the way of things, but above all he's manipulative. He's a manipulative deviant. So why does he go and break every effort of reconciliation we make? I just don't get it. It's like he wants us to be stuck in this rut, but I know that's not true. It's not true because somehow I know that when he says he wants to make me happy he's telling the truth. Is he really just that bipolar? Is he really that helpless against himself? Is he really just as immature as I am? Or is it something else? Is this awful rut the universe's way of telling me it's my turn to make a move? But what move? What do I do? Please, just tell me what to do!"

Sarah gasped as she choked on the last breath of her sentence. What was this feeling? She was so, so...electrified. Her heart was pounding furiously. Her breathing was sporadic. Her vision was fuzzy. It felt like she was having an anxiety attack. So many things were whirling about her mind she couldn't make out one thought from another. It was like there was a pulsing deep inside her, like something was pushing this craziness into her with each beat. She was manic, though fully aware that she was manic. But she couldn't- she couldn't stop it. She couldn't handle it. She wanted to calm down. She wanted throw herself out the window.

"Sarah, why don't you start by calming down. Please, I urge you, we can talk this out. Just...just release my hand-" Liana tried but couldn't get a substantial word in. The moment Sarah took hold of her hand it was over. Their connection was tangible, and Liana could literally feel the force being drained from her. She was just too worked up, her spirit was insatiable. Liana was starting to feel dizzy. She'd never felt dizzy before. She needed to sever their connection or else Sarah would end up forcing her own awakening; and as much as she told Jareth that was what she wanted, that was the furthest from the truth. For one, Sarah was nowhere near ready to handle that kind of power let alone the responsibility, it would break her, and besides, none of this fit into her plan. Not yet. She pleaded hopelessly, but it was becoming difficult just to manage that. Sarah locked eyes with her, her words having gone in one ear and out the other.

"He's taken everything from me Liana. Everything that makes me free: my family, my friends, my home, my future. And what do I have left? What is the one thing I have that he has yet to take from me? My God damn virginity. It all boils back down to that. Is that his game then? To take away everything I have until he owns me completely? Is that his revenge? He's on the last leg of the race, it makes sense that he's dragging it out, making it more difficult for himself. Oh, how he loves the_ thrill of a good challenge_. He's trying to break me, trying to drive me so insane that I'll come crawling to him just to alleviate the damn pressure between my legs. Well, I'd rather burn in Hell before I give him that satisfaction!" For as crazed as she was feeling, the course of Sarah's thought process was surprisingly fluid. Oddly enough, she would say she was thinking more clearly than ever before. And it was in this moment of clarity that she realized just how crazy this all was, and needed to find a way out of it now. By any means necessary. This game had gone on long enough, she needed to end it before she lost her mind completely. But how? How could she trump him after he'd shown her to what lengths he was willing to go? The obvious answer was to go farther, farther than he would dare go. And with what weapons? The only one she had.

The hysteric fury started to settle. It was as if everything was fitting back into place. Had the answer really been there all along? Was it really so simple?

"A loophole. I need a loophole, don't I? He wants me to swoon? to be the one who submits and begs for him? He wants to dominate me, to have that memory forever as the moment I became his. Well, maybe that's it then. Maybe that's the only way out of this. Fuck him. Fuck his arrogance."

In a rage Sarah stood and pushed back from her seat, releasing Liana's hand and nearly throwing it back at her. Liana staggered to compose herself, feeling physically and mentally side-swiped and left to hang by a bluster. She'd never felt so inert before, and could only sit and gape as Sarah stomped away from her. After but a second she blinked furiously and stood to her own feet.

"Sarah -what -where are you going?" she called out, wringing one hand around the other as if were injured from the experience.

Sarah had made it halfway across the room. Her body was tense and her eyes were livid. She'd never been so rattled before. She couldn't control herself. It was as if there was an ulterior force driving her on, moving her body and speaking words from her mouth while she was forced to watch from the dark corners of her consciousness. Everything was moving so fast, so fast, and yet there was only one thing speaking clearly in her mind. There was only one thing she could do. One thing she knew she had to do. Her hands stayed fisted at her sides as she paced back and forth. _He wants one thing. I have one thing. He wants one thing. I have one thing. I have one thing left. He wants what I have. How do I use the one thing I have to stop him from getting the one thing he wants?_ Over and over these words played. And then something clicked. She stopped, and a wicked awful smile etched across her face.

It grew until it strained from ear to ear, and then she started to laugh.

"Heh...Heheh...It all makes sense now, Liana. I know what to do. He wants a power play? I'll give him a God damn power play." Liana's brow drew tightly at Sarah's words, and even tighter still at what she did next. She watched as Sarah bent down and pulled up the skirt of her dress in a mad fury, then reached under the hem as she shimmied out of her underwear. Liana, already greatly concerned, knew exactly what was coming next and took a step forward. Her first instinct was to physically stop her, but coming any closer would only allow her to suck up more energy. Oh dear, what ever plan Sarah's hysteric mind had concocted, it was sure to be anything but rational, and most definitely unpleasant. She continued to watch hopelessly as Sarah lowered her skirt and smoothed it all back into place.

"What? Sarah please, stop this. Think this through before you do something rash," she called out, in one meaningless last ditch effort. Sarah, jittering on the tips of her toes, kept her eyes on the floor and shook her head furiously.

"No, I've done too much thinking. The truth is that the solution to this has been right there in front of me, I've just been too stubborn to face it. You were right all along; my sexuality is the only weapon I have against him. It's time I used it," she said, her voice crackling as if she were on the verge of tears. Her body was being overwhelmed, anymore and she would have a nervous breakdown. And there was nothing she could do about it. "He wants to hold the fantasy of me submitting my virginity to him? Well, I can't stop him from having it, but I can make damn well sure that perfect dream of his is one he will never ever have. He wants me to give him his dream? I'll give him a nightmare instead." She looked up to Liana then, and she saw the stone clarity amidst the fire. She knew what she was doing. She knew exactly what she was doing. Liana opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came. "I'm sorry. I have to go. Please, just wait here, I won't be long." And with that, Sarah turned on a dime and stomped towards the set of door. She didn't think twice, didn't so much as hesitate to reach out and swing open the door.

Liana watched like she were nothing more than a poor bystander as Sarah slammed the door to Jareth's chambers behind her, the echo of which left a foreboding wail ringing in Liana's ears. She knew what was coming. She should have stopped it. This was bad. This was very, very bad. But she couldn't. She had been ordered to wait. And so she stood, staring at the door. She was lost for words, and utterly unable to prevent the sly, creeping smile that began to curl across her face.

  



	67. The Road To Nowhere, part 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While unbeknown to her, Sarah has succeeded in obtaining the one thing the Goblin King has desired for hundreds of years -power over the Labyrinth. After being hidden for years from his diabolical wrath, Sarah finds herself alone and vulnerable as Jareth's dark desires are finally aloud to rear their ugly heads. As always, the only question is, are things really as they seem?

Sarah stormed her way through the corridor with bullheaded intensity, the fire of her spirit guiding her through the dark. Her hands were numb fists at her sides and she bore fang, as if pushing her way through the darkness were a physical strain. It was like she was being flung through a vortex; the hall was pitch black, and yet she was bombarded by spots and flares of color every which way. It was easy to say that the very hinges on her mental door had been blown clean off, letting loose every whim, every secret, violent impulse she'd tried so hard to keep at bay. There were so many things she wanted to do, so many things she wanted to say, but she couldn't. She physically couldn't. Her conscience heaved as it watched her body move on autopilot. Whatever this compulsion was, where ever this strange, thrilling, exhilarating energy had come from, it had come with a purpose. And its mind had been made.

There were a million things she wanted to do. But there was only one thing she needed to do.

A part of her was screaming to calm down, to take a minute and just breathe, but the other, more dominant side knew that if that happened she would lose the courage to do what must be done. She couldn't afford to weigh the pros and cons, she couldn't allow herself to acknowledge the cost. _The ends justify the means. Sacrifice a few to save many._ Well, in this case, the few would be herself, and the many was her future. She needed to prove herself. She needed him to finally see what it was he was doing to her, and the only way he would finally see is if she did something drastic, something he would never expect her to do. Something he would never dare do himself.

Her heart beat was so severe she thought her ears might have been bleeding from the pressure, and to an extent she hoped that was the case. It might explain the madness that had taken over her, and that was about to ensue.

Somehow she sensed the door nearing from the end of the hall and had to fight the urge to simply kick through it.

* * *

Jareth was sitting in a chair beside the fire when she entered, casually kicked back with his feet propped up on the coffee table. He held a score of papers in his hand, smugly glazing through them without a single care to what they said. He heard the door to Sarah's room fly open and slam against the opposing wall, and looked up on reflex. His eyes widened when he saw her, a reaction of genuine surprise, and he began to shift up into a more proper position. He hardly had time to register the look of ferocity burned into her face when she stormed him.

"Why Sarah, back so soon?" he asked, with cavalier charm. He thought there was time for an answer, but his sly raise of the brow and slight curl of the lip expression was stolen when she rushed him on a bullet path without preamble. His eyes darted to the floor and back when she kicked his feet from the table and, in one simultaneous movement, clawed his papers out of his hands and cast them to the floor. He drew his brow then, and even tighter still when he caught the look of sheer enmity that had taken over her. He began to grow concerned. "Sarah, what are you-"

He didn't have the chance to even get the words out when she was suddenly astride him, her skirt hunkered up to her thighs and her knees firmly wedged into the corners of the chair on either side of his hips. He flinched back, suffering not even enough time to be flabbergasted when her hands were suddenly clawing around his face and pulling him hard into her own.

Their faces hit with a clash, Sarah's hot wet mouth already seeking invasion into his. He had no defense against her tongue as it literally pried apart his jaw and deeply plunged into his mouth. Her eyes were tightly screwed shut, but Jareth's were wide open. He watched this happen in but a fraction of a second and...and...and he had no idea what to do.

Her tongue invaded him roughly, her lips sucked and her teeth scraped against his without mercy. He felt her fingers curl against his skin, her sharp little fingernails digging into his scalp. Her arms constricted, pulling her closer to him, her body undulating against his in eager near rabid waves. She murmured into his mouth, incoherent pants and moans, from the sheer fervor of her actions.

He...he just sat there for a minute. He was warily still, his hands held out around them in disbelief. What? What exactly was happening right now? Was this a trick? Was he dreaming? Had he fallen asleep in his chair? Was his wildest fantasy coming true? He couldn't believe it. He honestly couldn't. When he left Sarah broiling in her room, he hadn't meant his words seriously. Did he want her to come to him? Of course! But he never ever thought she would follow through. He intended to exasperate her if nothing else. But what? What was this? Had his words worked? Was she finally caving? Was this it? Or more importantly, was he really going to distract himself with thoughts when Sarah was kissing him senseless?

The sound of her weak panting began to fill his ears, dragging him raggedly into the moment. He closed his eyes and leaned forward, his mouth quickly catching up to pace, and slowly engulfed her with his hands; hands which splayed and roamed and constricted, up her back, around her shoulders, over her hips and back again. Yes, this was real. This was happening. He could feel her. He could taste her. He could smell her. Wait...smell?

She pressed the weight of her body flush against him, making him slouch in the chair in an almost forced sensual lax. One of his hands held her between her shoulder blades while the other wound her hair into a knot at the back of her head. She was pushing her torso against his in a calculated rhythm, breathing more heavily than necessary, causing her heart to pump faster. The resulting temperature rise of her blood radiated onto him like an erotic cologne. He took it in, her heat, her wetness and softness, he took it all in; and yet...there was something missing. He was getting distracted, but he wasn't sure what was distracting him from what. Sarah's claws moved further into his scalp, pulling his hair and his face even closer. He sagged a little further and lost himself for a minute.

Never did he think victory could taste so sweet. Oh, how he adored it, her lips, her tongue, her saliva as it mixed with his, the smell of her desire as it began to perspire on the crown of her forehead. Wait. The smell of her desire? Again something pulled him out of the moment, something awry. Why? Why did her smell keep distracting him? Something...something wasn't right.

Sarah's hands moved from the mess of Jareth's hair to grope down the front of his chest, bullying their way passed the collar of his shirt to get at the hot skin underneath. She felt his clavicles, the muscles of his pectorals, grazing his sternum, all to feel the racing of his heart and make sure that it was indeed frantic. She breathed heavily into his mouth, not allowing either of them the chance to break away incase they might use the moment to think. This was working. This was going to work. She had the courage to come this far, she couldn't stop now. No matter what, she couldn't stop. She could feel the contention coursing through Jareth's body, and prayed to God he wouldn't pause, prayed he wouldn't pull his face away from hers. She was so close, so god damn close. This could work. This could really work. She felt his body twitch in a small effort to sit up, and moved her hands further down to distract him.

Jareth murmured into her mouth when her hands pressed down his front, feeling him forcefully, tenderly, _purposefully_. For so long he'd wanted this, waited for this very moment. This was all he'd ever wanted: just one moment where he could say she came to him, a moment where he was the one to be desired, a moment that was for once natural and not contrived. But is that what this was? A voice in the back of his mind pegged the question, and was unsettled to find it was one he could not shake. Was he simply in shock? Was it just too sudden? Was he in denial? Was there a reason, was there something stopping him from believing this moment could be true? He felt her fingers start to undo the buttons on the front of his shirt, and he opened his eyes to the ceiling to make sure he hadn't died and gone to heaven, and that was when she finally pulled her mouth from his and began biting down his neck. The hand at the back of her head pushed her teeth into the flesh of his neck, a sensation he was beginning to fear he might never feel, and tightened the other around her back. The fresh air he breathed made his heart surge, as if every breath until that point had been stale and barren. His chest expanded, moving in rhythm with the waves of Sarah's movements. He could feel her thighs gripping his hips tighter. He could feel her heat radiating onto his pelvis. It intoxicated him, her touch, her taste, her- her-

There was a twitch in the air, as Jareth's vacant, dazed eyes tried hopelessly to focus on the ceiling. He took in another breath, and nearly choked on it when her lips hit his clavicle. Her hands were nearing the hem of his shirt, and he winced as something dreadfully sobering hit him. This feeling, this strange sense of unease he about him, it wasn't shock, it wasn't anxiety. Her hands pressed against the waist of his pants as she leaned in to nibble at his ear and he nearly lost it all over again, but the thought had firmly rooted itself this time. He closed his eyes and tried to focus, and winced when that proved to be more difficult than he ever anticipated. His nostrils flared as he breathed, and he grimaced as if her touch were now painful, only euphorically so. Her smell. Why did her smell keep distracting him? But it wasn't...it wasn't what he smelled, it was what he _didn't_ smell. Normally, whenever Sarah became stimulated she released a wonderful, sensuous aura that thrilled him beyond redemption. It came with her anger. It came with her arousal. It even came with her sadness and joy. And that was why he was so disturbed when he fully realized that what he smelled from her was...nothing at all. She'd been getting good at masking her pheromones, he'd give her that, but she still had yet to master it; and with the way she was acting, the livid nature of her ardor, there was no way she could, nor would want to keep it concealed. She had been so frustrated with him only minutes earlier, she'd been so aroused. He smelled it on her then. Why was he not smelling it on her now? He lowered his gaze from the ceiling and looked down to her, bringing his hands to her biceps to pull her away from him. Something...something wasn't right.

"Sarah..."

Her hands were suddenly around his face again, her tongue seductively curling around his teeth.

"Shh...don't talk," she whispered, and he'd never heard her voice so breathy and erotic. Against his own will, he closed his eyes and kissed her. He kissed her the way he'd always wanted to kiss her, by letting her kiss him. His hands reluctantly loosened, and were aided by her own as she lifted them and placed them on her hips. She moved with him, coaxing them to life as she helped him knead her body, inching down around the curve of her rear... Oh Gods, please let this be true!

When she was sure he was again distracted, she let go of his hands and went back to business. She kept their mouths connected this time, wanting to keep him as thoroughly engrossed in the moment as possible. Her fingers found the button on the front of his pants, but he was left unaware when she flicked it open. She could sense him trying to protest again and thought to speed things along. She lowered her hand between his legs and boldly wrapped it around his already taut erection that burgeoned through his pants.

Jareth had to physically stop himself from convulsing the second her hand touched him, and nearly coughed just to suppress the moan that burst out of him. He was suddenly sitting upright in the chair, his body strikingly rigid and dare he admit trembling. His eyes had sprung open, ill prepared against her audacity. So many nights he'd spent working her over and never once had he had an ounce of his own release. Though he hid it well, the tension was starting to get to him. And now her hand was on him and her fingers were firm and she was starting to move and oh gods how he dreamed of this!

She felt him flex in her hand and could swear he grew another inch just from that. His back arched, his teeth gritting as he tore his mouth from hers. She squeezed and caressed him methodically, her hot open mouth seeking back its counterpart. He grew more and more rigid as she stroked him, his legs starting to squirm beneath her; and she took great satisfaction in the way he tried to keep his eyes from her as he fought for some semblance of control. _Control_. So this is what it felt like. She leaned forward to hover her lips over his ear as she pressed her breast against his. Her backside rose a little, her new posture making his hand clutch her more forcefully. She moaned to him, stroking the head of his erection with her thumb as she did so, and felt the fabric of his pants start to dampen there. She smiled then, he was still trying to fight her, but she would win. For once he would submit to her. For once _she_ _would win_.

It took all of Jareth's remaining focus not to fall over the edge. He wanted this so, so badly, he could literally touch and taste it. Sarah was here, moaning for him, sitting on top of him, stroking him so sweetly, and he knew that it was probably his will to fight against it that made the urge all the more powerful. Her hand moved slyly, inching ever closer to the fly of his pants. He was far too distracted to notice her reach around, but was all too aware when her bare, trembling fingers made contact with the hot swollen flesh beneath. His mouth dropped open and he moaned again, fighting it all the while. No...no this wasn't right. There was something wrong. Why was she here? Why was she doing this? There was no way she would have given in like this. Why couldn't he smell her? It wasn't just the absence of arousal, it was the absence of everything. There were no pheromones, no signals, none at all. The air was dead around her. That wasn't right.

Sarah's hand held a vice around Jareth's growing erection, using the force and the movement to mask her own nervousness. Nervousness? Was she nervous? No. No, she wasn't. Nervousness had no place here. And yet her hand was trembling. She snarled to herself and shook her head. She needed to focus, focus on the task at hand. There was no time to think remember? She focused on the velvety feel of his skin, of how hot and hard it was, and tried desperately to find it arousing. If this was going to work, she needed it to be real. She needed him to think it was real. Feeling her courage falter for just a moment, Sarah decided it was best to just get this over with. She went back to kissing his neck, and readjusted herself over his lap.

She felt his hand going limp on her rear, and used her free hand to push it up under her skirt. His hand felt bare skin and realized she wasn't wearing any underwear. This shocked him, enough to make him more alert, but not enough to stop her from springing him free from the confines of his trousers so she could work him better. He clenched his jaw and groaned in the back of his throat. He'd never felt so out of control before. He wanted...for some reason he wanted this to stop. But...he _never_ wanted this to stop. He jerked again when he felt her brush the head of his erection against her sex.

Sarah continued to breathe heavily into the crook of Jareth's neck. She kept her eyes screwed shut so she could focus, but things were starting to get tricky. The compulsion inside her urged every fiber of her being to see this through fruition, but it seemed her body had other ideas. Jareth only grew harder and harder the more she pumped him with her fist, but as she pressed him against her she realized that her body couldn't have been any less aroused. She tried using his head to separate her, but she was totally dry, there was no way he was going to just slide in like she'd planned. Not knowing what else to do, she angled her head away from him and rose her free hand to lather some saliva on her fingers, and then went back to kissing him so he wouldn't notice her lubing herself up. When she pressed him against her the second time, she was met with far better results.

Jareth felt the warmth start to surround him as he slowly parted her. He felt himself start to enter her and nearly came just from the anticipation. But the strange awareness about him refused to leave, the distilled air was starting to get to him. It was as if a mirage were starting to fade, and as it did, did he start to notice just how tense and rigid her own body had become. He noticed just how brutally her free hand was clawed into the leather of the chair. He noticed how strict and calculated her breathing was. He closed his eyes and shook his head. This wasn't right. She should be flooding him with endorphins. There was no reason for her not to be, and yet there was. He had a deep sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, and the voice telling him to stop this held more say. He knew...he knew that something was wrong. She came to him...she came to him! What could be wrong about that? Hadn't this been what he'd always wanted? Was it? But it...it wasn't... If it was he wouldn't be feeling this way. No, when he took her, it was to be He who was taking Her. She was to swoon like a flower for him. She was supposed to writhe beneath him as he worshipped her. He was supposed to make her dreams come true. And what it was that was happening now, it wasn't that, that much he knew. She was taking Him. She wasn't writhing beneath him, she was trembling above him. And he...he wasn't making her dreams come true. This wasn't how it was supposed to be. He wasn't...she...she was...

He felt her push herself onto him and jerked away in response. He winced and pulled his neck away from her lips, and suddenly his hands were trying to push her away once more.

"Sarah, wait-" he managed to say, discovering that it had become extremely difficult to speak. He tried to push her away. He tried to break free. But he was so engrossed, so lost. It was all he could do not to thrust up into her with all his might.

Sarah kept a firm hold on every part of him, and turned to run her tongue along his ear.

"I told you not to talk," she whispered, and pushed herself down on him further. She closed her eyes as she did this, he was only about an inch inside her, he hadn't really begun to stretch her yet, but that wasn't what she was concerned about. She knew what had to come next, and with the way Jareth was starting to resist, knew it had to be now. She steeled herself for the inevitable.

"Sarah- this isn't how-" He'd finally managed to put some real effort into his grip on her, an effort which was killed in its tracks when Sarah, gripping him firmly at the root, pushed herself down on him without hesitation.

The plunge in was a rough one. Sarah's body, still not wanting to participate, provided no means of lubrication, and it hadn't taken long for the saliva she'd lathered herself with to dissolve, leaving her dry and coarse for the invasion. Her muscles tightened, making her initial plan of slamming herself down on him impossible. She'd only been able to sink him half way, but the sensation from that alone was enough to make her cry out. Jareth's hands at her arms, once urging her away, now clamped down with immense pressure, as he too let out a hoarse groan. She rose herself up a little, letting what menial fluids her body gave her serve as lubrication for the next round, and quickly thrust herself down again, this time forcing him in to the hilt. She yelped again from the sting. Her body was constricting so tightly, trying to push him out with all its might, and it took all her will power to force those muscles to relax and let him in. Her insides quickly dried again, making every movement chafe and abrade the now damaged skin.

Jareth gave an involuntary moan and threw his head back. Sarah, wanting to act quickly, brought her hands to hold the back of the chair for balance and kept her head lowered in the crook of his neck. For a split second she was still. This feeling...it left her petrified. She could feel her insides swelling around him, making every subtle flinch become a painful sting. Her breathing escalated. She hadn't moved a muscle and yet she found herself panting. This wasn't normal, she knew that much. It wasn't supposed to be this difficult. It wasn't supposed to hurt this badly. Her body hadn't just been penetrated, it had been violated, and was doing everything it could to stop it. She cursed herself for her incompetence. She was too tense. She needed her body to relax. She shifted, and it was like something in her had been punctured. A heat started to bloom deep in her abdomen, and the longer she remained still the hotter it became. She could feel a flush sweeping over her face and crawling down her arms and chest, slowly cooking her from the inside out. Only a second had passed when she felt Jareth's hands moving again. His own body was tense and his breathing was labored, but still he was trying to push her away. She couldn't let that happen. Pain or not, she'd come too far to stop now. He opened his mouth to say something, but as soon as she felt his chest expand she raised herself up and thrust down again.

She cried out a third time; pulling off of Jareth had been like yanking out a knife, but the return thrust was easier than before. She could feel the heat inside her start to discharge, seeping down and around Jareth's erection like lava. She didn't pause this time, using the lubrication to her advantage and started a hard and rough rhythm of movement. Her insides were on fire, but it didn't matter. She pushed past the pain, it could wait. She needed to do this. She needed to do this.

Jareth sat panting like a dog left to die under the sun. The pure heat of Sarah's core around him was blistering, and the constriction was so merciless it was almost painful. He blinked furiously, trying not to lose his head. He felt a surge in his stomach and he choked down the hard lump that had formed in his throat. Could that- Did that- Did she really just do that?! What was- were they really-? For the first time ever Jareth found himself unable to think. Her legs were astride him, his hands were around her hips, she was panting into his ear, and yet...and yet...

He closed his eyes and shook his head again. She was moving on him in a deadly pace, quick, hard and deliberate, but even so he could still notice how rigid and stiff her movements were, as well as the steady tremble coursing through her arms and legs. He turned his head and saw her fingers digging into the leather of the couch so vigorously there was no color left in them. He turned back to her and picked up on the whine in between her panting, and knew this needed to stop. She was going too fast. She shouldn't be going so hard her first time. She was going to hurt herself. No...he was going to hurt her. His hands dug into the folds of her dress bunched at her hips, as that was the only physical effort of control he had left. He shifted and noticed his shoulder was wet. Wait- why was his shoulder wet?

"Sarah, stop this," he said, his voice strained and hopeless. Sarah turned, and hooked her hips as she pushed down. The feeling made him twitch and groan. She ran her nose along his cheek, breathing hot air across his already enflamed skin and whispered,

"Please don't stop."

He closed his eyes and moaned, arching his body up into her the way she so desired. It was no use, part of his mind may have been protesting that something about this was gravely wrong, but he had little to no control over the matter, and was finding fewer and fewer reasons to care. She pressed her forehead against his cheek, and reached down to cover his hands with her own, coaxing them to the rhythm of her rocking. "Please, just, don't stop," she pleaded again. Pleaded! Oh, what excruciating pleasure this was! He squeezed her hips tighter and thrust himself into her. She gasped and inched higher up his lap. His hands constricted around the loose fabric of her dress, his body and his mind warring over whether to pull her down again or throw her across the room. Her breathing against his skin made him hot and so much more than bothered. Sweat was beading on his brow, he could feel his body betraying him. If he didn't get a grip soon he was going to loose himself.

Jareth was not the only one who sensed this; Sarah could feel him squirming beneath her in both pleasure and contention. His hands tensed and un-tensed and then tensed again, pulling on her in a clear act of conflict. He was getting harder the quicker she rode him, if it were at all possible. With this in mind, she went even faster, using the sound of his breathing and begrudged moaning as fuel. He was approaching his climax fast, and she was determined to force it out of him whether he wanted her to or not.

He grabbed hold of her waist in one last ditch effort to stop this, what ever _this_ was. The blatant desolation in the air couldn't have been stronger. It was revolting. He wanted it to stop. But he couldn't, at this rate she was going to force him into submission. She was going to force...him...

The strain in his grip brought Sarah to full attention. There was a haze over her eyes and a dampness to her cheeks, but she hid it from him by keeping her face in his neck. Sensing him about to throw his head back, she leaned forward and moaned to him, loudly, shamelessly. He gave another hoarse groan from the back of his throat and clawed his fingers deep into her sides, holding her still as he let go, or rather as she took his climax from him.

Sarah paused. She felt a tremble run through Jareth's arms, felt his body tense, felt his breathing hitch, and was about to smile in dreadful victory when something else took its place. She felt another flare of heat rise within her. It was different from before, and it was stronger. The moan that Jareth let out as he came was registered as no more than a distant echo, as a horrible, awful sensation started to burn through her insides. She'd -she'd never felt this before. It was like something was literally charring her nethers. Was it Jareth? Why? Why did it hurt so bad? Her body, though frozen in place, still trembled in shock. Her eyes sprang open, her teeth ground, her fingers stabbed through the leather on the back of the chair, and she cried. She cried out frightfully. Her knees quivered, but she forced it all to go away. Not yet. She couldn't break down yet. Jareth's arms were around her, holding on so tightly, his chest hit hers with each heavy breath they took. He'd leaned his head back, gasping for air. It was over. Only ten minutes and it was over. Just like that. He couldn't grasp how quickly that had all just happened. Meanwhile, Sarah sat as still and as lifeless as a statue.

Reality came back into view with each new breath Jareth took. He was finally able to calm down, finally able to see straight. He tried to look around, but Sarah's face in his neck and her arms on either side of his head made it difficult. It was silent, and it struck him that he was just now noticing it, as if they had been cast in a whirlwind of commotion up until this point. His breathing grew shallow, his body relaxed, and his hands moved away from her hips. She was still just sitting there, deathly still, deathly quiet. And that was when the aberrancy of the situation began to unfold.

He looked around, and noticed that her arms were still trembling, her knuckles still fiercely clawed into the chair. He could feel the muscles in her legs haphazardly tensing and re-tensing, as if she were trying desperately _not_ to move. Sounds began to fill his ears, sounds of her breathing, of her panting, of her crying. It was then that he knew why his shoulder was wet. He started to sit up, reaching out to pull her away so he could look at her, but she flinched at his touch and shoo'd his hands away. With stiff movements she removed herself from him and stumbled a few steps away.

She kept her head lowered, her shoulder's hunched. The moment she tried to straighten she winced and brought a hand to her abdomen, but resigned to remain hunched over. She wobbled from foot to foot as she stood before him, as though the draft was enough to blow her away. Jareth's expression fell grimly, and he quickly straightened himself up. When she looked up at him, it was like the ball had finally dropped. Her face was livid with emotion, all the emotion he hadn't been able to sense, and it was drenched with hot messy tears and covered in thick tangled matts of hair. It left him stunned to say the least. She gulped down her regrets and looked him straight in the eye.

"Are you happy now?" she asked.

The simplicity of Sarah's question struck him like a punch to the gut. His eyes widened, his brow drew tight. He opened his mouth to speak but was completely stupefied. He moved as if to stand, but the enmity of her stare and her next words kept him in place.

"This is what you wanted, isn't it? For me to come to you? Well, here I am." She worked hard to gulp back her fear and her pain as she spoke. Her words came out clear and solid, their severity forcing him through disillusionment. He narrowed his eyes on her, as if what she'd said were simply appalling. She clutched her stomach tighter and forced herself to stand above him, ignoring the taunt stab of pain that hit her belly button with each shaky attempt.

Jareth wanted to speak. He wanted to interject, but the string of hot tears that fell from her eyes rendered him speechless.

"You win, alright? You've taken _everything_ from me. I have nothing left to give you. So you know what this means? You can stop torturing me and just leave me alone!" she screamed at him, like she'd never screamed before, as it was the only way to stop her voice from cracking. It was like all the build up was finally hitting her, the compulsion was deflating, her gusto shattered. All her emotions were hitting full force, and combined with the pain in her groin, she couldn't stop shaking. She couldn't stop crying. Why was she doing this again?

"Sarah, what in the world-" He moved to stand, but she flailed her free hand in a command to stay seated. For some reason, he did.

"What did you really expect? All you do is push, push, push, did you really think there wasn't a ledge to fall over? THIS is what you've reduced me to, Jareth. And THIS is the only way I can finally make you see that. You've taken away all of my options. So do you finally see? Is it everything that you were hoping for?" She kept her eyes seared to his face, but gave him enough of a pause to run his own over her. She wanted him to get a good look at her, to pick up every little detail. She wanted him to understand why she was here. She wanted this memory firmly embedded.

"Sarah, for God's sake-"

"Don't you dare bring God into this. This has nothing to do with him. This is about me and you. You think you're so smart. You think you can just bully your way into getting everything that you want. Well, I'm done. You wanted the memory of our first time to be like a dream come true, didn't you?" She snarled as she yelled, her eyes filled with upheaval of every kind, and brought her hands to haphazardly wipe the messy tears and hair from her face, but it did little to help her appearance. She was completely disheveled, and she'd never been more thankful for it.

Jareth...didn't know what to do. This had happened so fast, he wasn't even sure what it was that was happening. All he knew, was that the awful pit in his stomach had grown to cause serious discomfort within him. He felt...repulsed and resentful by the sight of her. But, for some unfathomable reason, these feelings were directed solely at himself. What- what was she doing? Why did- She- She came to him! Why was she staring at him like that? Why- why was she crying like that? His confused expression fell quickly, however, as his subconscious slowly started piecing things together.

Sarah flailed her arm out again, the motion making her buckle over a little more.

"Well now that dream of yours is gone. The chance is lost. You'll never ever have that. When you look back on this, you won't see me swooning, you won't see me begging, and you sure as hell won't see me submitting. When you look back what you'll see is THIS, right here in front of you. Take a good look, because I hope it plagues your nightmares for the rest of our miserable lives." She didn't give him the chance to rebut, to explain or defend himself, and neither did she give that chance to her own self. She needed to end this while she still had control. She glared at him as her words sank in, and the way their eyes met told her that deep down he knew.

And so she turned, without a second glance, and stormed, to the best of her ability, back through the door and into the darkness from which she came. The door slammed loudly behind her, leaving Jareth alone and disturbed by the smears of blood left on the floor that dotted the path behind her.

* * *


	68. The Road To Nowhere, part 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While unbeknown to her, Sarah has succeeded in obtaining the one thing the Goblin King has desired for hundreds of years -power over the Labyrinth. After being hidden for years from his diabolical wrath, Sarah finds herself alone and vulnerable as Jareth's dark desires are finally aloud to rear their ugly heads. As always, the only question is, are things really as they seem?

"Mmmm...Oh dear. Oh dear. Oh dear..."

Liana mumbled to herself as she paced back and forth through Sarah's room. She was so anxious she was jittering. Had she ever jittered before? No? But what could she do? This was bad. This was very baaaadddd. She could sense well enough what was going on across the hall, but couldn't do so much as lift a finger to stop it. Sarah had ordered her to wait, and so she was. The calculating part of her told her this would push things along if nothing else, while the side burgeoning with confusing human emotions told her it was a disaster waiting to happen. She nibbled on her knuckles as she paced. Sarah had been gone for a few minutes now. How long would she be? She had a fairly good idea of what Sarah's plan might be, and prayed she wouldn't be destroyed by it. And what of Jareth? How would he react? Oh, this could end very badly... She continued to pace and pace and pace, until the sound of Sarah's footsteps making their way back through the hall told her Jareth's reaction must have been as planned. _Oh, thank the gods..._

She stood with pursed lips and worried eyes when Sarah reentered the room, and had to stop herself from rushing over to her side at the sight of her sorry state.

Her hair was a mess, her face and neck were soaked with stale tears. Her eyes and nose were bright red, and her expression was locked in an angry grimace. She staggered into the room and stopped before Liana, who did nothing but gape with concern at the way her body trembled. Liana reached out, but stopped herself, sensing whatever fit had taken Sarah over wasn't quite through yet. She could sense her pain. She wanted to sooth it.

"Sarah- good gods, what happened?!" she proclaimed, with genuine anguish and feigned ignorance. Sarah tried to stand tall and cover up her shivering. Her hand had loosened from over her stomach, but now her thighs pressed together as if to snuff out the pain instead. It wasn't working. She blinked away the clouds from her eyes and tried to smile.

"I...I'm sorry. There was just something I had to do. I'm fine, really." She tried to sound reassuring, but she wasn't fooling anyone. Seeing her there, like that, had Liana's compulsion to protect and help her screaming. She took a step forward.

"Look at you, of course you're not fine. What happened? Did Jareth do that? Do you need help?" she asked, or pleaded. Sarah met her in the eye and shook her head. This was her doing after all, she needed to deal with the consequences on her own.

"No...no actually, I did this to myself. I- I'm sorry. This is rude of me, but I'm going to go in the bathroom now. I'm...I'm in a lot of pain," she said, with a strange sorry smile that really shouldn't have been there, and, not waiting for her response, turned away and dashed off to disappear behind the bathroom door.

Liana stood there for a moment, taking the necessary time to compose herself. Deep down, she really did feel sorry for Sarah, she had to, but the pure genius of her actions had Liana smiling from ear to ear. She thought over her words, and suddenly she understood perfectly. Human or not, Sarah really was the perfect opponent for him. Maybe it was because she was human... She lowered her head and tried her best to wrangle in the remainder of Sarah's instability. After all, her role had only just begun, and the circumstances couldn't have been more perfect...

* * *

Jareth sat in his chair, confounded and dismayed, staring blankly at the stains on the floor. He was at a loss. He could barely bring himself to think let alone move. His eyes narrowed on the drips of blood that the skirt of Sarah's dress had smeared when she left and frowned even harder. There was too much blood. He slouched forward and buried his face in his hands.

What in the Underground had just happened? He felt like his entire world had just been shattered, yet he was so shocked by it, it just left him numb. He should go after her. He shouldn't have let her run away like that. He should be chasing after her right now. Why was he just sitting there like a fool?

He groaned and clawed his hands through his scalp. Why did he feel like this? So..._ruined_. He opened his eyes and recoiled at what he saw. He sat up and looked over his lap. The crotch of his pants were stained deep red. He scowled in disconcertion. This was definitely too much blood for a torn hymen. He knew something was wrong. He knew she was going too hard. He recalled the strange heat he'd felt; it wasn't ordinary bodily fluid, it was blood, blood that dried and chaffed each time she pulled off of him. She was so tight...the discomfort must have been maddening. Discomfort? What was he thinking? As he looked over the mess she'd left behind, he gathered he must have torn much more than just her innocence. The pain that must have caused her... Why didn't he notice sooner? Why would she put herself through that? Why didn't she stop? The image disgusted him, and in one swoop of his hand removed the stain from his pants.

He brushed the hair from his face, and the shifting of his shirt reminded him of the dampness on his shoulder. He turned to look at it, and scowled even harder. It all made sense now, making the delusion of his lust seem utterly ridiculous. He was a fool, a willingly blind fool. She hadn't been moaning, she was shrieking. She hadn't been panting, she was wincing. She hadn't been trembling, she was shaking in pain. And she hadn't been sweating with desire...she was crying. The entire time. It had been that way the entire time. How could he not see that? Was he really so dazed by her impertinent sexuality? He picked up on the obscurity of her smell the moment she threw herself at him. Why hadn't he done something? _Because she threw herself at you..._ He paused, the lucidity of his thoughts catching him off guard. He winced and clenched his jaw, things were starting to make sense. _You know you're powerless against her...perhaps she knows it too.._.his thoughts continued to chastise him, bringing to light that his one weakness, the one thing he would never be able to fight against was her, her love. The power to either grant or withhold it made her the ultimate weapon. He dreaded the realization that she may have figured out how to use it... But why did she have to do this?

No, she couldn't have possibly wanted this, her body's physical refusal told that much. It had never reacted that way before. But he couldn't fathom the idea of Sarah consciously trying to hurt herself. He couldn't put together a reason why she would do this... Yes, she was upset when he left her, but she wasn't _that_ upset. And how did this serve as any kind of solution? How did virtually raping herself become a means to an end? But...but she didn't do that, did she? She may have sacrificed her virginity, she may have felt cornered, but it was her own choice. No, she hadn't raped herself, she'd raped him. But that- no that was even more absurd. How could he even think such a thing? He wanted to be with her so badly. She hadn't tied him down and forced him. And yet...and yet it was true that he wished for her to stop...he didn't want what was happening...in a way she _had_ forced him...right up till the end. Wait, end? Was this the end? The end to what? The thought of an end, to anything, was absolutely terrifying. No. No this wasn't the end. This wasn't the end because he was going to get up and run to her. He was going to confront her on her madness and get an explanation. He was going to be with her, to hold her and heal her and shake her senseless and wish to take it all back-

He looked up with newfound hope in his eyes at the sound of the door opening again. He perked up in his seat and prepared to stand. Had she really come back? A sense of anticipation hit him, but was quickly replaced by grave outrage when the person who opened the door was the last person he wanted to see. His hands, gripping the arms of his chair as he shifted, now clawed into it as he tried to hold back the flare of murderous intent that threatened to throw itself at the vile woman. _Of course. It would be her.._.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" he growled, anger serving as the perfect mask for his confused woe. Liana, stepping precariously around the speckles on the floor, moved to gently close the door behind her. Her look was a gallant one, one that made Jareth broil in his seat.

"Oh, testy, are we? Have I come at a bad time?" she asked, teasingly, not the tone to best approach him with. Jareth sat more rigid, his eyes following her dangerously as she moved about the room.

"You're going to tell me exactly what's going on, or I-"

"Or you'll what, Jareth?" she interrupted, her persnickety voice succeeding at gnawing at his nerves. His hands began to fist. Suddenly, Sarah's outburst didn't seem so random.

"Do not test me." Jareth's voice was venom sizzling in the air. He could feel his heartbeat start to escalate again with newfound, long needed rage. If Sarah's actions were caused by another of Liana's influences...Gods, he could feel his blood boiling already. He watched as Liana stopped her pacing to stand before him, in the exact spot Sarah once stood.

"Don't worry, I'm not here to test you. Sarah has taken care of that." She folded her arms across her chest, and rose a challenging brow at the way his glare bore into her. Jareth took a very deep breath.

"Then for what reason would you possibly come here?" he asked, and narrowed his eye on the way her lips twitched.

"Quite simply, I came here to gloat...This is a matter of celebration, after all," she said. Jareth's ears tensed at her malevolent tone. Coming here to lord herself over him, now of all times, was not a wise decision.

"Do not toy with me Liana, I am not in the mood." She turned her nose up at him and shrugged.

"No...Well, not anymore anyway..." When her eyes and that damn smile of hers landed on him, it was like pulling the trigger. In a flash he was standing in front of her with a hand around her neck, jerking her in close so he could vent his fury. Never had he been so intrepid. Never had he assaulted her so boldly. He'd never been more angry, and yet she only smiled.

"I swear if you had anything to do with what just happened I will rip your throat out!" His voice was visceral, his hand was trembling, and his eyes were torrid. His chest was heaving, but each breath hitched in his throat from the amount of fury he was just barely restraining. This was her fault. Everything. Every horrible thing that ever happened between he and Sarah, what ever it was it always revolved around this wretched woman. Well this time she'd gone too far. What was her angle? What was she trying to do? Who's side was she on? Wasn't she supposed to protect Sarah above all else?

Liana's smile only grew the tighter Jareth's hand constricted. It was an awful, evil smile, one he didn't think her delicate face was even capable of expressing. She met him straight in the eye, and started laughing.

"Oh, really? Have you forgotten who it is you're threatening, Jareth?"

It was silent, but it wasn't long before Jareth started to squirm. Both stood stock still, but that soon became difficult to maintain, as a scorching heat was steadily building up in the hand he held around her neck. She continued to smile, and he swore he saw a flicker of light dancing in her eyes. The heat grew hotter, and hotter, until the mysterious blaze began to blister the skin on his hand. He winced and grimaced, then resentfully withdrew his hand from her. He held it out and looked down to examine the white bubbling skin of his palm and immediately healed it with his own magic. He looked back to her with honest hatred in his eyes.

"Raise a hand to me again, Goblin King, and you will find you have no hand left to raise. This body may be deceiving but you should know enough not to forget your place." Her voice had taken on a surprising authoritative tone. He didn't like it. Not one bit.

"What did you do to Sarah?" he demanded. Liana refolded her arms and took a pompous stance.

"I have done nothing. What you should be asking, is what you have done to her, and what she has done to me," she said. Now that caught Jareth's attention. He stopped his brooding and shot his gaze back at her.

"Explain yourself. Now." Liana pursed her lips. She didn't like it when Jareth ordered her around like this, but that habit wasn't about to change any time soon. She watched him, standing hunched over nursing his poor hand like a wounded animal. Of course he would lash out like one.

"She summoned me," she said.

"Summoned you?"

"Yes. She was so distraught over you that she summoned me. I believe the significance of this goes without saying?"

Jareth's anger, near its peak, simmered down just as quickly as it had escalated, and, while keeping a firm eye on her, moved to retake his chair. He dared not threaten her again, as it was now clear she had no qualm smiting him back down. There was obviously something going on. He needed to calm down and figure out what.

"She had the ability to summon you?" he asked, as if he needed a third confirmation. Liana took a step to the side.

"Perhaps you should have warned her of the power mere words can hold," she retorted. Jareth slouched in his seat and clawed a hand down his face.

"What does her summoning you have to do with this? This is a disaster. Do you have any idea of the damage you've caused? Do you have any idea what just happened?!" The exasperation was coming through. Clearly, he'd never had to deal with anything like this before. He was at his wit's end, and he still didn't fully know what really happened. He knew what he'd seen. He knew that Sarah had coerced him into fornicating, why she needed to coerce him he was still confused about, and that the ordeal had left her badly damaged. He knew that she had _hurt herself_ because of it. He knew that she was torturing herself while she did it, and he knew that the look in her eye when she pulled off of him was of hatred and pity. He didn't understand. He couldn't see what the point of all this was. It just didn't make sense.

"I do. And that's precisely why I'm here." There was a pause after Liana spoke, as it was obvious she was waiting for him to look up at her. But what was one more defeat? He regretted his decision the moment he looked up, after catching the look of blatant superiority and condescendence bearing down on him. "You are a fool Jareth," she said, and he winced as if her words actually mattered to him. "I told you not to underestimate her, and every time you fail."

"What are you getting at?" he asked, almost grumbling as he spoke. That blasted smirk was starting to seriously irk him. He wondered what Sarah was doing. He wondered if she was still crying. He was glaring away, but all he could see was the blood on the floor, and the memory of tears rolling down her face.

"You think that this happened because I compelled her over the edge. What you fail to realize is that your bride has not been given the credit she's due." The intrigue in her words caused him to sit up a little straighter, and the ominous tone with which she spoke had his anger dissolving completely. Well, almost.

"Enough with your obscurities. Speak your mind already," he commanded. Liana stepped forward, and then leaned down to take hold of the arms of Jareth's chair, caging him in, and making sure she had his full attention. Her proximity sickened him.

"Your choice was either the perfect match, or the worst possible. But she is, by far, the ideal component and opponent for you." He narrowed his eyes on her. All her sidestepping was getting old. He started tapping his fingers against the arm of his chair. What he wouldn't do for the chance to snap her neck. "You think that because this is your game that you are the only one who can make rules, Jareth. But the truth is, you made a move, and she made a better one."

"You're saying this catastrophe is all Sarah's doing? That's absurd. I don't believe you. You did this to her," he said, his eyes searching her golden irises for any signs of deception. She cocked him an eyebrow.

"Why? Because she doesn't have it in her to play a little rough?"

"Rough? This is what you call rough? She- she made me- she hurt herself without a single falter!" He found himself stumbling over his words like a flustered child; but he couldn't help it, he was just too awestruck. Maybe that was the point.

"What she did, Jareth, was the only thing she could do. You backed her into a corner and what she did was use the one loophole, the one escape, which you and your arrogance overlooked." His eyes had forced themselves away from hers, shamed. She was starting to get a rise out of his pride, and that was never good.

"Elaborate, please," he said, odiously sardonic. She stared at him for a moment, as if measuring him up, and then stood to pace around him.

"Sarah is more cunning than you realize. As far as she knows, you only want one thing from her, and she knows that even that one thing is an inevitability in the long run. So how does one go about winning such a fixed game?" she asked, rhetorically of course. Jareth didn't answer, simply waiting for her to continue once she reached the other side of his chair. "She takes that inevitability and she turns it on itself. She takes that one thing you want so desperately, and she makes it into something awful, and forces you to have that instead. It's pure genius, honestly. I never would have thought-"

Jareth lurched forward and turned back to face her.

"There is no way Sarah would have put herself through that. There's no way-"

"Why? Because her life with you isn't hell enough already? What's one more thing?" She interrupted his interruption, mocking Sarah's own words and tone. It was clear just how close to home they struck him, and he glared away and sat back in his seat.

"I am not that bad. Her life here is not that bad," he grumbled. If he weren't so distracted he would have been much more upset with Liana's goading.

"No? Then why are you in this position?" she asked, the question making him wince. He closed his eyes for a moment, pretending that if he couldn't see her she would just go away. It didn't work.

"I'm here because you used your influence to make her manic enough to enact such a ludicrous, irrational, self-destructive thing," he said, slowly, calmly, forcefully smooth. She leaned up from the chair and continued pacing until she stood before him again.

"Irrational? You think her actions were irrational? I think what she did just now has been the most practical decision made in a very long time. And you speak as if you are the victim here. But, since you bring it up. Actually..." He looked up, his curiosity catching the hook of her implication and waited. "I didn't use my influence. She used hers."

"What?" Jareth's eyes were wide again, her words not registering with him right away. There was suddenly an anxious churning accompanying the pit in his stomach.

"You heard me. After she summoned me, she was so upset that her spirit connected with mine and, quite literally, absorbed my force all on her own. And, I don't think I need to explain why I was powerless to stop her...You should be more careful with the emotional states you leave her in. Once again, I may have been the root cause, but this one is all on you, My King." She glared at him as she spoke, but her scolding went unnoticed. Jareth had looked away, his head lowering substantially as he stared at the floor. He was suspiciously calm. She was expecting a far bigger reaction than this.

"Get out."

Liana quirked a brow. The sound of his voice was low, deathly low. She watched him for any signs of eminent outburst, but he was as fixed as a rock. His hands, on his knees, and his head faced the floor, as if he were about to melt into it. Now this was certainly not the reaction she'd expected. Very interesting...it seemed Sarah's actions may have had an even brighter silver lining than she expected.

Jareth was silent after that, and to him it seemed the silence was perturbed. This knowledge deeply unsettled him. If Sarah could drain energy from Liana from physical contact on her own, then there was no way to prevent her awakening. He couldn't stop Liana from meeting with her, and he obviously couldn't stop Sarah without telling her first which would defeat the point. And even if he wanted Sarah to have his power, she was nowhere near ready to handle it. Look at what just happened? Just a small taste of what Liana was composed of had driven her near mad. It all made sense now, the strange absence of pheromones...she was driven to act by sheer force of life alone, her body knew what was happening, knew it was wrong and didn't want it and tried to work against herself...He'd told her once that he knew the difference between a mind betraying the body and the body betraying the mind. How foolish could he be? He couldn't believe it. Couldn't believe it had come this far, gotten so bad... He snarled at the floorboards when Liana piped in.

"Hm, no. I'm not done yet."

He glared up with an angry frown on his face.

"Why are you telling me this, then? What do you want from me?" he asked. His patience with this woman had run out, as he now had many more things on his mind to deal with. He hadn't been able to handle Sarah's previous fits, and he knew he wouldn't be able to handle any future ones. In fact, he wasn't sure how exactly he was going to get past this one to even worry about a future. Curiously, a look of resignation masked her features.

"What I want is for you to listen. And why I am telling you all of this is because I know regardless that it will not work."

"What won't work?"

"Your plan."

Jareth's ears twitched and his breath hitched reflexively. He'd always assumed Liana knew of his true intentions, but they'd always spoken of it in riddles, never had she accused him outright. He was surprised by the level of anxiety it caused within him.

"What plan?" he asked, petulantly. Liana sighed.

"Oh, come now, Jareth. Let's stop with this silly game. I know why you chose Sarah. And I know what you're planning to do with her," she said. This had Jareth greatly worried, not what she said, but the casualness by which she said it. He kept his head lowered, wary to look up at her.

"...And yet you fail to stop me," he mumbled.

"Oh please, you're perfectly capable of sabotaging yourself. Tonight is proof enough of that."

"So you're just going to stand idly by and watch mine and Sarah's downward spiral? Aren't you supposed to protect her? And yet here you are using her as a pawn to make your own point."

"You're one to talk. I, like Sarah, _and like you_, believe that in some cases, the end justifies the means. Can you really recant such a self-asserted edict?" Jareth smiled at that, there was just no other expression left to make.

"You would play hardball with your master?" he asked.

"Because you are any different?"

"And what if it works? What if, by some twisted chance of fate my diabolical plans actually succeed? Will you sit idly by then?" He couldn't believe they were talking about this so casually. One of his biggest fears, aside from Sarah discovering her true self, was Liana discovering his true intentions. Bound or not, on her own Liana still had the power to stop him. The only question that now mattered was why she hadn't.

"That won't happen. I've already told you it's not going to work." He peered up to her, that same dubious smile lighting up his otherwise dismal looking face.

"Because I'm defective?" he asked.

"Because you love her."

Liana tried her best to hold his gaze, but as soon as the words were uttered he scowled and looked away. A brooding shroud began to radiate around him.

"_Tch_...Love has nothing to do with it." The adolescent irritation in his voice and mannerisms gave tell towards the contrary. His body grew tense, his eyes slightly anxious. It was a shift most would have glossed over, but not Liana. She took a step towards him.

"Oh, I believe love has everything to do with it. If it didn't, you wouldn't have let her go that day. If it didn't, you wouldn't have taken her the night of her release. If it didn't you wouldn't be in this_awful_ situation. If love had nothing to do with it, you wouldn't be feeling this way. Go on, try to deny it. You won't." The haughtiness in her voice was self-assured. Jareth meanwhile, continued to fester in his seat. He was quiet, thinking over her words in congruency with his own troubled thoughts. All this time he'd tried telling himself he was separating the two. He'd told himself that his feelings for Sarah were separate from his plans for her. One had to come first. He'd told himself that, but as he thought, he realized his own edicts didn't count for shit and they never had. He'd been playing himself all along. She was right, and they both knew it. The reason for all of this was based around his petty coveting. If he didn't want her, he would have killed her right then and there in the Escher room, and if that proved naught, he would have done so the night of her birthday; but he didn't. No, instead he was putting them both through hell trying to create a future that might already be too far out of reach. His selfishness was working against him. He _was_ inadvertently sabotaging himself, time and time again. Perhaps that was where all of their issues arose from, his constant struggle to be one or the other...maybe he could be both.

After a moment, he sat back in his seat and looked her in the eye. His expression had altered drastically, as she was surprised to see him donning a complacent curl of the lips. He sighed and leaned back further, bringing a hand to his chin as if deeply contemplating her. She didn't like this change. Her words were meant to deflate him, not forge new confidence. He stared at her with a dangerous look in his eye, but the spark was fleeting. A decision had been made. A switch flicked.

"...So, you think my love for Sarah will be my undoing?" he asked, and began to stand from his seat. The leisure with which he moved worried her, but she maintained stance. He said nothing else as he walked by her towards the door, but she raised her guard when he stopped just passed her shoulder, his sly smile urging her to turn back to face him. For a second, she genuinely couldn't tell if it was a facade. It was amazing how quickly, even at a disadvantage, he could turn the tables. His eyes flickered down, and his breathing shallow with resolve. "Then perhaps I should start using my weaknesses to my advantage."

And with that did he resume his walk towards the corridor, with not even a second glance back at the woman who was slowly ruining his schemes bit by tragic bit. No, he had more important things to deal with. It was time he sought out Sarah.

  



	69. The Road To Nowhere, part 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While unbeknown to her, Sarah has succeeded in obtaining the one thing the Goblin King has desired for hundreds of years -power over the Labyrinth. After being hidden for years from his diabolical wrath, Sarah finds herself alone and vulnerable as Jareth's dark desires are finally aloud to rear their ugly heads. As always, the only question is, are things really as they seem?

Sarah paused and slouched against the bathroom door as she shut it behind her. It was rude of her to just leave Liana like that without an explanation, but she honestly didn't care at the moment. Her groin hurt so badly; she'd heard stories that it hurt the first time, but she never thought it would be like this. It felt wrong. This pain was wrong. She took a step, her first instinct was to jump in the bath, but stopped herself. Her insides were swollen, and being in the bathroom made her have to pee like a race horse. She'd heard it was good to go to the bathroom after sex...and maybe it would help clear out what ever it was that was causing her so much pain.

She pulled up the skirt of her dress and sat on the toilet, and tried not to let herself be freaked out by the streams of blood that were weaving down her legs. Now that couldn't be normal. She closed her eyes to shut the image out. She wasn't quite sure what to expect, but it definitely wasn't the slice of sheer fire that cut through her the moment she relaxed her bladder. Her eyes shot open and she buckled over, crying out all over again. She crossed her knees and clawed the countertop next to her for support, her other hard groping around her abdomen. The pain was so severe she started to shake, violently. It hit her so abruptly she became frightened, her panic only feeding her condition. She couldn't stop the tremors coursing through her body, and rocked herself in a subconscious effort to sooth it. It didn't work. She sat there writhing, in utter agony, for what felt like an eternity, but the pain refused to cease. And she thought the pain of Jareth coming in her was bad. This was so, so much worse.

She closed her eyes and focused on lulling her shrieks until they were stable rhythmic whines. The pain lessened only a fraction, it was like someone had held a match to her genitals, but after a moment she regained enough control to open her eyes and think. What should she do? How did she handle this? She looked to the tub and saw the gates to Heaven. _Numb. Numb it. That might work._

With quivering legs she staggered out of her dress and made her way to the tub.

* * *

It felt as though she had been alone in that room for hours, drowning in the fallout of her own mania. It was quiet, except for the occasional drip from the faucet. She sat with her knees pulled up to her chest and her arms wrapped firmly around them. At first, she wondered if Jareth would come, wondered if he would come after her. She'd thought it for certain after seeing the look she'd left on his face, full of confusion and horror. She thought he would come after her in the hall, thought she would feel the clasp of his hand as he jerked her back. But he didn't. He hadn't done anything but stare as she walked away.

_Maybe he won't...maybe he really is just confused. Maybe he really didn't get it._ She thought this would upset her, the prospect of her efforts proving naught, but it didn't. Actually, she didn't feel anything. She was completely hollow.

After her tantrum, and her screaming tirade, after the madness and the pain, it was like the dust had settled. She could see clearly again, she could breathe evenly. All the whirling colors once dancing around her, pushing her to act, were gone. They were all gone. It was like everything had been sucked out of her, even her sanity. She pictured the door holding in all her emotions, saw that it was now completely still, and realized it was because there were no longer any raving emotions left to keep barred. Everything was just so...empty.

As she waded in the tub, she began to think over her actions and realized just how crazy and impulsive they were. She replayed those 15 minutes over and over, and couldn't believe it was really her, that that had even happened. It was like watching someone else, like she was possessed. She was just so angry, so overwrought. Where did it all come from? Hadn't she been fine less than an hour ago? How could she even bring herself to do that? Why did she think that was a good idea? The pain in her groin continued to throb, reminding her what she had put herself through all for the sake of making a point. And the point was? The point was...

She was motionless at the sound of the door creaking open.

She kept her lead lowered on her knees, staring blankly at the water, which idled just as stagnant as she. She heard his footsteps as he approached, and judged his proximity by the amount of tension that vibrated the air as he sat down beside the tub. Her eyes turned slyly, and spied the leather of his boots out of her peripheral, and ignored the inward sigh of relief that swept over her at the sight of it.

* * *

The walk to Sarah's room had been made with false courage, as Jareth tried his best not to show Liana his weakness. No doubt, she would be watching his every move, and he needed to be wary; but no amount of preparation could have made him strong enough for this. He could feel the anxiety building with each step, dissolving whatever ludicrous facade he'd managed to mold for Liana's sake. His resolve was trembling. He couldn't do this. While his face was calm and reserved on the outside, he could do nothing to rid the race of his heart and the rock in his throat. He stared at the floor as he walked, following the marks of blood like arrows. The sight of them sobered him to the point of trepidation. What would he do? What was he supposed to do? How was he to handle this? He talked tough in front of Liana, but the truth was, he'd never been more at sea.

He'd found her room empty and followed the trail to the bathroom. For some reason, this door frightened him, not sure of what he would see on the other side. He opened it slowly, and kept his head low as he peered up. She was in the tub, that could only be a good sign, right? It was deathly quiet, and as he moved towards her, he spied more smears on the tile and her sullied dress in a heap on the floor. He frowned and sat down beside her.

Both were quiet, neither having the faintest idea of what to say or how to start this. She kept her eyes closely fixated on the water's surface, and from his angle he could see her fingers digging into her thighs as she held them close to her chest. Normally, she would freak out on him for intruding when she was unclothed, but not now. No... it was like he wasn't even there. His brow was drawn tight, but he forced himself to inspect her further, and became worried with what he saw. Her skin was white, abnormally white. Her lips were purple and her nose was a light pink. Her eyes, open wide yet unseeing, were also unblinking, and remnant streaks ran down her cheeks, the stains of once present tears. The water was only filled up to her hips, water which had turned orange. She was still bleeding. He must have torn something inside her after all... He shifted uncomfortably and fisted his hands.

"...Are you in pain?" he asked, his voice weak and without conviction of any kind. Sarah curled her toes beneath the water.

"It's not so bad anymore."

Both their voices were hushed, but the slight echo of the bathroom made them seem so much louder. Jareth frowned when she squeezed her legs tighter.

"I'm sorry," he said, quickly, like ripping off a bandaid. His head had turned, his eyes fiercely glued to her face, searching for any signs she was reacting to him. She continued to stare out like a zombie.

"For what?" she asked. She was calm, for some reason this unsettled him more. He wanted her to yell at him, so he might figure this out. He was only used to her yelling. He didn't know how to respond to this.

"For...what happened." He winced as he spoke, at the sound of the water moving against the tub as Sarah shifted in discomfort. He wondered if it were the pain, or his presence that made her uncomfortable.

"Why? You didn't do anything."

He was thrown by her words, and looked away. She couldn't have possibly meant that. What did she want from him? What was he supposed to do?

"I made you cry," he said. It was quiet, too quiet.

"I made myself cry."

"I don't understand."

"Of course you don't."

He started to shift around then so he could look at her better. He was so full of anxiety, and yet she sat there like a brick wall. It was all he could do not to shake her senseless until she screamed at him again. Why was he so disconcerted?

"Sarah, just tell me what's going on. What do you want me to say? What am I supposed to do?" he asked. Sarah turned and looked up at him, her eyes wide and sunken in from exasperation. It was a terrible, terrible vision. One he wanted to be rid of. He loved it when she was happy, and he loved it when she was angry, because it brought that much more passion to her eyes. But he hated her tears. He hated her like this...this...this lifelessness...it was disturbing.

"How does it feel?" she asked. He blinked like an idiot.

"How does what feel?" he asked in response, and drew attention to the way her eyes narrowed on him.

"That awful knot in your stomach? Do you feel uncomfortable Jareth? Let me guess, you have no idea why?" He gaped at the small flare of life that returned to her stare, and flinched back from the intensity of it. Her words took hold of him in a bad way, bad because they were true. The knot she spoke of twisted harder. He'd never felt this before.

"...I don't understand why you would-"

"Why I would fuck you?" Her interjection left him dumb, for once her vocabulary having nothing to do with it. She held his stare, and he felt like it was pushing him back over a ledge. She observed the way he gaped at her and pursed her lips. "Isn't that what you've wanted all this time? All those nights spouting edicts in my ear of my inevitable caving? Well, aren't you just all bark and no bite," she said. Jareth continued to stare at her, deep in her eyes. He saw so many things in them, so many disappointing things. This wasn't how it was supposed to be. This wasn't how it was supposed to go. If Liana hadn't interfered...none of this would be happening.

"Sarah...this isn't what I-"

"I don't care if that's not what you intended. What matters is what happened," she snapped, the water starting to slosh about the tub. Jareth looked away, he'd never been scolded and actually been affected by it before. This sudden power shift was...uncanny. Was it all just guilt? He lowered his head and looked at the floor.

"I don't know what happened..." he mumbled. Sarah narrowed her eyes further, there was no way she was letting him shy away from her.

"I asked you how it feels," she repeated. Jareth was quiet, so she filled in for him. "How does it feel to think you're holding your dream in your hands only to realize you're in a nightmare?" He started to look back up to her slowly. "How does it feel to have something so wonderful happening to you, and yet in the back of your mind, a voice is telling you how wrong it really is? How does it feel to have your thoughts warring instead of letting you enjoy the moment? How does it feel to have your body betray you? To have it manipulated against you for someone else's satisfaction? How does it feel to have an orgasm forced out of you? How does it feel to know something is wrong and not be able to stop it? Do you feel satisfied, Jareth? Does it feel good to you? To be used? To be manipulated against yourself so easily? To be told it was something that you know it really wasn't? Does that feel good to you, Jareth?"

And then it hit, the reasoning that made this whole catastrophe ten times worse. Jareth grimaced at the stone tile on the floor, unable to look her in the eye. It made sense now. Her actions... She was doing to him what he did to her, only...only he should have been able to stop it. Was that how it really was? Was he really that helpless? All he had to do was push her away, that's it. Yet he didn't. He didn't because she was...she was touching him. So sweetly. So seductively. Was he really that out of control of his own body? Had she really used him just as she'd said? How was that possible?! Did he really want her to stop? Deep down, did he? Did he now regret what had happened? Yes, yes he did. He did... And suddenly, Liana's words came back to him, _"I think what she did just now has been the most practical decision made in a very long time..."_

"Sarah, I-"

"That's what it means to be molested Jareth." And again he was left with half a sentence hanging on his tongue. Begrudgingly, he looked up into her eyes. "That's what it's like to have someone else use your body for reasons other than passion. So did I go far enough to make you see that? Are you finally paying attention? Because that feeling gnawing away at you? That's what you've been doing to me every day and night since I got here."

The silence was a heady one. For the first time, Jareth felt like his world had been utterly shattered, twice in ten minutes. And it made sense. It made sense because that was her very intention. To make him see. To make him see her. All this time, he'd been so caught up in the rush of the game. He'd been so caught up in it all, that he'd forgotten she may not be as resilient as he thought she was. And it seemed...it seemed that she was right. Had his vision been clouded by frivolous follies? Had he not been seeing the real her? A grave thought struck him then, the memory of watching her undress. He'd felt like he'd been given a glimpse behind her armor, and he'd seen how sad it was. Was that the real her? Was this woman before him now the same? Had she finally taken off her armor? He didn't know if he should be ecstatic or terrified...The rationality behind this only became more so, making his scape goat of Liana's influence become naught. Liana may have pushed her over the edge, but these thoughts, these feelings, they had been there all along. This moment _was_ an inevitability. Was Liana right then? _Were_ her actions genuine? It seemed he kept quiet too long, as Sarah began speaking again. Only now, her voice was much more peaceful, and unless he were mistaken, she was even smiling. "You know, you act like we're two totally different beings, like I'm some faceless opponent for you to conquer. But the truth is...we're really not so different. We may go about different means of fighting one another, but our motives are the same. Our intentions are the same. The result is the same. But the aftermath? Well...that couldn't be more different either. We fight over and over until one of us breaks, but what I've learned is the one who breaks isn't always the loser. We leave ruins behind us, made of either ourselves or the other; but that isn't what's important, is it? No, what is important is whether or not the point has been made. Isn't that right, Jareth? You've been making yours time and time again; tell me, have I made mine?"

Jareth took a deep breath. It was clear now. She was fighting fire with fire, using his own words and methods to get back at him. Well, this was surely unexpected, and it certainly worked. But none of that mattered, because all he could concern himself with was the fact that she had to make herself suffer before him in order to do so.

"Sarah...you shouldn't have felt the need to do this. This is my fault. You shouldn't have had to do this to yourself, to prove a point or not..." And she really shouldn't have. No matter how much he blamed himself, he would always blame Liana more. If it weren't for her...from the very beginning, things could have been so different...If she were just a normal girl...it could have been different. It became clear to him that something needed to be done. Something had to be done about Liana, for Sarah's own good. She was two-faced and dangerous. He sighed and reached over the tub. He wasn't really thinking, it had just felt natural. But the moment his hand touched her she jerked away, water splashing up on his hand. He startled and reached over further.

"Don't- don't touch me!" she squealed, and jerked, recoiling from him touch. Her reaction left him unfazed, as something much more pertinent had revealed itself. He glared up and scowled at her.

"Good God's, Sarah, this water's freezing!" he said, just now connecting the dots of her deathly pale skin and her quivering purple lips. The tub was as cold as ice. And she'd been sitting in this for how long? "You're going to make yourself sick," he continued, fighting the urge not to just pick her up and throw her under a blanket just to ease himself. Sarah shoo'd him away and scowled.

"It's the only thing that numbs the pain! Okay?!" she yelped, the unexpected rise in the volume of her voice making him blanch. She looked up at him, her eyes wide and full of panic and plea. He just looked at her, taken aback. Never had he felt so incompetent. Never so petrified by a look alone. He hated it. Hated that it was for him, that it was because of him. It had all just been fun and games...there was nothing fun about this. Strangely enough, the hold she had on his gaze gave him the will to speak his mind. He tried to make it sound as heartfelt as he wanted it to.

"Sarah...think me full of whatever evils you may, but you _must_ know this is not what I wanted for you."

His eyes glossed over her, taking in their sorry state of affairs. No, he never wanted to hurt her like this. It wasn't supposed to happen this way. Her plan had worked perfectly. He always imagined how sublime this night would be, how this would turn the tables in both their favors, after he'd finally won her over. She had taken that away from him. And now they could never go back. She had taken that away, and he would never forget it. Liana was right, about everything. She was his perfect opponent. She was the only one who could do this to him, and he was a fool to think she never would. He had willfully blinded himself. And the love, or whatever feeling he thought was love, ached agonizingly with each pound of his heart. Perhaps...perhaps his plans could wait. Maybe there was something more important he needed to do first.

Sarah, however, was not experiencing this same sense of revelation. She'd glared away from him, pouting at the ripples of water moving about her. She was frustrated, yes, but also greatly relieved, relieved that they were actually talking something out, relieved that for the first time they were actually listening to one another. Perhaps her sacrifice hadn't all been in vain. But any feelings of triumph could wait. She wasn't done with him yet.

"Wanted for me? Or for you? I'll believe the latter," she said, successfully calling back his attention. "No, this is not what you wanted. What you wanted was what any girl should want, for their first time to be perfect, with the perfect man at the perfect time, full of love and tenderness. Do not think me stupid Jareth. My attraction towards you and our marital circumstances makes having sex a_certainty_. I am not so naive as to think I can hold off from you for the rest of forever. I may not have control over many things in my life any more, but the way I lost my virginity is one I made sure to keep. I didn't let you take me like you wanted, with all your bells and whistles. I took you instead, because it was what I wanted, the way I wanted. I own _myself,_ _my_ body, _my_ sexuality. This decision was mine, all mine. And you will have none of it." Jareth winced from the conviction in her words, he wished he could muster the same for his own.

"I don't know what I'm supposed to do...but say how much I regret-"

"I don't give a damn about what you regret. And I don't want your damn apology." He only sank lower and lower each time she spoke. This was not how he planned this to go, as if he had any kind of plan in the first place.

"...Tell me how to fix this. Just tell me what to do, please." If Jareth had ever begged for anything, this was it. He couldn't see a way out of this. He had no power over this matter. All his charm, all his pride and snobbish confidence, it was all worthless. She had made him worthless. And the pain that caused him...it only made him love her more. He needed to fix this. He couldn't survive if he lost.

"Some things can't be fixed."

"Then tell me anything. I may go about things in all the wrong ways, but all I've ever wanted was to make you happy. To make you happy with me..." She could hear the fluster in his words. He was getting desperate. This made her greatly satisfied, yet the feeling failed to surface. She wanted to enjoy this moment, to savor it with all her being as the moment she took the upper hand, as the moment he was at a loss and not her. He was asking something of her, and for the first time she had all the power to say no. And oh, how she wanted to say no. But she was not so evil. She was not like Jareth. She couldn't say no, because somewhere deep down, she knew that she'd done this for herself, not because she was selfish like him, but because it needed to be done for them. She needed to kick them out of this rut; and even though the means may have destroyed them, it was still _for them_. And no matter how much she wanted to blame him for pushing her so far, she couldn't do that either. That was the point. She did this because it was a choice only she could make. She did it so that there was no longer anyone to blame, anyone to hate. She did it because she wanted to, because this way she was the one who picked up the pieces, who decided the consequences. She'd knocked them off the path to nowhere, and now it was her responsibility to pick the new path they stumbled upon. And she wanted to stumble. She wanted him to stumble. She wanted him to stumble _with_ her. The ground had been leveled. And when it came down to it, wasn't that all she'd ever wanted? For him to see her as his equal? As it was, they were sitting face to face. Their true selves were completely exposed, their loss equally founded. They were completely level with one another...It was up to her to make sure it stayed that way.

She fell very silent as she contemplated the path they were to face, of which turn their lives would take. Jareth was sitting equally silent beside her, waiting for an answer. But in the end, no amount of hope for the future could help her in the present.

"You can't give me what will make me happy..." she said, and could sense his heart drop, and was then surprised to find herself feeling sad because of it. She could feel his eyes on her, and their apprehension only made her feel even worse. She wanted that, those feelings, to go away. She squeezed her legs tighter against her chest and frowned. "But if you really want to try, you can start by just leaving me alone."

Jareth frowned as the lead weight of her words wrapped around his heart and dragged it to choke as it twisted in the knot of his stomach. He felt anguish the likes he never thought existed, all over one simple sentence. It left him amazed in the worst, and most excruciating way. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came, he really had nothing to say. He'd never...he'd never done this before. For the first time he actually believed she hated him, and it was a horrible, horrible feeling. All his lecturing, and it was he who had been taking things for granted. He wanted to fix this, but the only means he had was the one she had given him.

His resolve was bitter and somewhat mournful as he thought this over. Without a word, he reached down and waved his hand through the frigid water. He made sure not to touch her this time, but his actions went anything but unnoticed. She could feel something changing. The pain in her groin...it was starting to go away. She let her eyes roam over to Jareth's hand, and realized it was because of him. He was healing her. Not only that, she noticed the tint of the water start to become clear, and felt the temperature rise. She had to purse her lips to hide her reaction. She didn't know what she expected from him, but this act of _silent_ _compassion_ made her feel mysteriously at ease. She began to relax as the water warmed her bones, but it was more than just physical. His hand stopped moving, and he was still for a moment. She let her eyes fall on him again, and had to fight the urge not to say something more.

She saw that he had a look of pain on his face when he stood and walked away from her, and the pensive mood that had filled the air left her feeling more than just alone as he quietly shut the door behind him.


	70. A Curious State, part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While unbeknown to her, Sarah has succeeded in obtaining the one thing the Goblin King has desired for hundreds of years -power over the Labyrinth. After being hidden for years from his diabolical wrath, Sarah finds herself alone and vulnerable as Jareth's dark desires are finally aloud to rear their ugly heads. As always, the only question is, are things really as they seem?

Chapter 14, A Curious State

* * *

The sun was out. Its rays were thin but bright, and cut through the mist of clouds which brushed the pale blue sky. Its quiet intensity hummed through the air, but was betrayed by the cool breeze which sang overhead. The wind whistled, lost in hushed echo of some troubled howl off in the distance. It danced and kissed and swelled.

The land was vivid, each pebble, each blade of grass adrift in an animated sea of life; even the coarse and brittleness of weathered stone and fleeting desert basked and glowed in the sunlight. All these traits painted a picture of fascination and serenity, once trapped within the frame of a window; but it was a facade cast too flippantly, for no amount of aesthetic could mask the fickleness of such atmosphere. It was a dimension that, no matter how far one strove, could never be breached. It was a sweetness turned bitter, and longed for all the more for its somberness, for its recognition, for the true sadness which composed such marvelous and unattainable beauty.

These, and countless other forlorn thoughts whirled with the wind as Sarah gazed far outside her bedroom window. It was she who was trapped in a box, and yet this simple curve of stone had made it seem like it was everything else which was kept firmly contained. Her eyes wandered in reprise, though what they saw was always new. The environment was so quiet, and yet it spoke volumes to her.

A breeze had found its way to the window and brushed her arm, the bare skin trembling in its wake. She rose a hand to sooth the spot and shifted away. It was no less than 65 degrees out today, but that had still made it the coldest day since she'd arrived. She was starting to get used to the torrid climate, today was out of place. For a moment, she regretted her short sleeves.

She heard Mariella close the door from across the room, a motion which sent another draft, ruffling the skirt around her ankles this time. She began to fidget again, then sighed and leaned a hip against the wall, resigning to deal with the cold.

"Is there anything in particular you would like to do today, Sarah?"

The sound of Mariella's voice was received like an intrusion disrupting the distilled air, and even she recoiled at the reverberation of it. It was amazing how much louder even the most minuscule noises became when surrounded by dead silence. Sarah folded her arms over her chest.

"Not really."

Mariella looked towards her and frowned, and then began to move cautiously about the room. Sarah's back was to her, as it had been too frequently over the past couple of days. She'd seemed rather distrait recently, remote even. She was alive and active, yet she breezed through each day like a ghost. Her constant state of vapidity was worrying; and even though she didn't know her well enough to judge whether this was abnormal behavior, Mariella had never seen the girl so lifeless. Her eyes were always cast downward, her lips always in a pout. She looked pensive, but even that was a hard expression to label. At first, Mariella had thought that maybe she and His Majesty had been in another argument; but as one day turned to two, and then three, and still Sarah hadn't said a single word unless she was directly spoken to, she began to realize something more serious must have happened. Normally, Sarah would respond to quarrels with fierce retaliation, she couldn't imagine what would leave her so absentminded. Though it wasn't just Sarah's behavior which was getting to her; the more she thought back, she realized she hadn't seen His Majesty all week either. His absence was certainly casting a poignant shadow over the castle, and thus became a grave point for concern.

Mariella had tried, numerous times, to talk to her, but whatever it was Sarah was bottling up, she'd been doing a good job of it. Regardless of whatever amount of integrity Mariella may or may not have had, she felt genuine sympathy towards her. She wanted to help; but this isolation was incredibly disheartening. It wasn't her place to pry, and so after only one or two questions, there was really nothing more she could do. Instead, she'd tried perking her up, distracting her from whatever was distracting her and making it her ambition to get at least one real smile out of her before the week was up; who knew, maybe Sarah would open up and talk to her all on her own? She wasn't off to a very good start. Maybe it would be better to overstep...

She moved to sit on the edge of the couch, and continued to gaze up at her with a practiced smile.

"Are you sure? We could go explore some of the game rooms? Or maybe dig through the library? I've been told of some wonderful literature from your world. How about a snack, are you hungry?" Although Mariella was genuine, even she was able to register how forceful that sounded. Sarah was a brick wall, one that didn't seem to be budging anytime soon. She spied Sarah nibbling on her lower lip as she gazed out the window. Hm, at least something was having an affect on her. What was she thinking about? Gods, all this fettering was just plain depressing...

"No, thank you. I'm not hungry." Sarah's monotone came as no surprise, one that presented another issue for concern. She'd noticed Sarah's appetite had been near nonexistent lately. With the way that girl ate, she knew something severe must have happened. She nibbled her own lip as she struggled with the urge to jump out at her, and was thus surprised when Sarah turned around to face her all on her own. She unfolded her arms and placed her hands back against the windowsill.

"Hey. I know I've been a bit dull lately. I'm sure you must be bored out of your mind. I think I'm just going to hang out here for the rest of the day. You're free to leave and go do whatever, if you want."

Mariella might have found this suggestion surprising, if it weren't along the same lines as her dismissal from every day that week. Every day Sarah had insisted on being left alone, regardless of pretext, the underlying plea was always the same. Mariella understood that she might want and need time to be alone, maybe she even expected His Majesty to drop by; but her speculations were never answered, and only made Sarah's strange funk even more mysterious. She tried to be cheery for her sake.

"That's alright, I don't mind lounging. It's better to do nothing with someone than to do something alone, in my opinion." Sarah's eyes flickered to the floor then, but Mariella wasn't sure why. Had something about her sentence made her uncomfortable?

"Yea...I guess you're right," Sarah said, and turned back to face out the window. It was quiet after that, but the mood was screaming with tension. She could practically feel Mariella's squirming, and sensed the question well before it burst out of her.

"Um...Sarah?"

"Yes?"

"I...forgive me for overstepping, but when you took me on you asked that I stay as a friend."

"You are my friend, aren't you?" The slight upturn in pitch made Mariella even more fidgety. Sarah cracked a ghostly smile that she couldn't see; even now she was still fun to tease.

"I...yes, I mean- I'm trying. It's just...well, as a servant it would be out of place for me to ask, but as a friend it would be my obligation."

"Ask what?"

"Has something happened between you and His Majesty? Something you should-I mean, would like to talk about? I know I am but a servant, but if you seek an outlet to confide in, I am always at your disposal." Sarah lowered her head and curled her fingers against the warm stone of the sill, but was still, quite frankly, surprised it had taken Mariella this long to ask. In silence, she'd been telling herself she didn't want to talk about it; maybe what she was really doing was waiting for someone to ask... She suddenly felt very tentative, but the reason for it was less obvious.

For the past several days now, Sarah had found herself living in a void. She wasn't sure which was more numb, she or the world. As the time passed, she thought she was using it to work through her issues, using it to think, to rationalize, to comfort; but she wasn't. She wasn't doing anything at all. She'd finished thinking everything over days ago and she'd rationalized it well before that. She'd stopped feeling guilty. Stopped feeling angry. And yet, something was still missing, obviously the only something with the capacity to fill that void. Was it comfort? Ironically, that was turning out to be the most painful to obtain.

The first day was the easiest. She'd felt somewhat empowered after the way Jareth had left her with his tail between his legs, and was almost ready to deal with a possible round two should he come back. She never thought he would actually listen to her, never thought he would keep his word; but true to it, Jareth hadn't shown up that next morning. And while she should have found this liberating, there was something unpleasant beginning to twinge in the background.

She was alone. She was really alone; and even though that was the one thing she'd asked for, that was the last thing she'd ever wanted. She woke up in bed with a pounding headache and a stuffy nose, but she just didn't care about physical discomfort after what she'd experienced the night before. She'd wandered about, bathing and dressing herself as she waited for Mariella, and the entire room seemed perturbed and unwelcoming to her. When Marie finally arrived, the heady silence had taken what was left of Sarah's voice. She had nothing to say.

She was confused as she walked to Roldan's class, holding a tentative hand over her stomach as if she'd expected some miraculous change to overtake her body now that she was_ sullied_; but there was nothing, she felt exactly the same. After what happened...how could that be? For some reason, she expected the change to be more than physical. Maybe it just hadn't hit her yet.

Her withdrawal was immediately noticeable, but not yet abnormal. Mariella looked worried, but Sarah really didn't care enough to give her any false reassurance. Even Roldan seemed concerned, or put off at the least. He'd kept eyeing her down as if he wanted her to jab at him and was left a little at sea when his comments remained stagnant and undignified, left without response. His attitude soon changed however, as one day turned to the next, until his skepticism became some twisted sort of satisfaction. She would glare at him when he wasn't looking- his expression pure haughtiness. She bet he felt so darn good about himself with the thought that Jareth may have finally tamed the Shrew. Oh, how wrong he was. But again, she just didn't have the energy to care; she was picking her battles, so she let him have his moment; she'd get back at him soon enough.

She'd gone back to her room alone after class, Mariella was still clueless, but regardless she just didn't want to be around _anyone_. She lied to herself in thinking she wasn't instead waiting for _someone_. At first, the silence helped. She was so forlorn and lost, shameful of herself yet confused why. Her thoughts were clustered yet distant. She needed the solitude to pull them back and then apart. Still Jareth didn't come.

She slept better the second night; the ease of being liberated from Jareth's omniscient prowl was a soothing, but weak facade. She slept uninhibited, that is she left the crystal on her dresser. She didn't want to see their faces. She didn't want to see anything.

The second morning was the same as the first, and for some reason Sarah found this deeply worrying. It was a far cry to think Jareth would do anything without some self-serving fine print hidden in the margins; yet here she was, another day and not a single sight or word of him. That was when the twinge became a pang. She felt...compromised. Something horrible had happened...was it wrong of her to want to be coddled? Even if it was by the person who had caused it? She tried to shake the urge, the desire to see him. What point would it prove if she sought him out after only two days? She told herself it was just her nature, her instinct to resolve a conflict completely and immediately. The issue had ended, yes, but nothing was resolved. She'd made her point, she'd stewed about it long and hard, and now she wanted to talk, she wanted to quell the anxiety by taking a step forward rather than remaining stagnant...but the only one she had words for, the only one who could pull her forward, was nowhere to be found.

It was about midday when the anxiety really started to hit. For some reason she almost expected him to come see her during lessons. She was fidgety, but kept it well internalized. Roldan seemed to be having a field day with her passive demeanor and was thus well distracted. On the other hand, she had a firm hunch that Mariella was a bit more sincere than that. The way she started eyeing Sarah down told her it wouldn't be long before spotting an intervention. She tried to think of what she would say.

That evening, Mariella had insisted on keeping her company, but she had said she had a bit of a headache and wanted to lay down. Mariella looked genuinely upset at this, but that didn't stop Sarah from turning her back on her. She laid in her bed staring at the ceiling for a long while, determined to conquer this silence before it crushed her. Again, her mind was warring with her heart, telling her she should be feeling one thing when in reality she felt another. Why was that? Who had placed these values and morals upon her which she could never live up to? Was she doing it to herself? Was she disappointing herself on purpose? _"You like to play the victim, because it will make hating this place that much easier."_ Jareth had said that to her once. It was only now that she acknowledged he was right. Constantly letting herself down, victimizing herself, allowing Jareth to victimize her in her own stead? Yes, it was making it easier to reject this new reality. She was tired of being disappointed.

It was in the dead of the night that she realized if she was going to move forward from this, she needed to start owning up to her own faults and stop blaming everything else. She'd been playing Pitiful Patty for so long, she failed to realize she may have been a part of the problem all along. A part of taking back control wasn't just by acting, it was by taking responsibility for both her actions and their consequences. And wasn't that precisely the motivation behind all this anyway? Even if she was hurt, it was her decision to do so. She was in control of herself, of Jareth and the outcome. So how could she blame him for any of it? She couldn't. She didn't. If for principle and nothing else, she just couldn't blame him, because technically he hadn't done anything, it was all her.

Owning up to herself, the good and the bad, that was what having control was. She had done something bad, she had done it on purpose, and it was really as simple as that. If she was going to be upset with anyone, it had to be herself.

That night came with many revelations and many reconciles. In some ways, the third morning was both better and worse than the previous two. Waking up alone was taking its toll in a way she hadn't anticipated. It was like the walls were scorning her, their silent lecturing bearing down on her conscience. She hated it, and actually caught herself wishing Jareth was there to distract her from it. She knew how desperate that made her, but it couldn't be helped. On the up side, she was able to breathe deeply again, and stretch and move like her old self. There was still no Jareth, but she was doing her best to view it as a positive. What once made her so worried, she was now able to perceive. If she was feeling at such a loss after that night, how must he be feeling? How was he dealing with all this? He was the one who'd felt the brunt of it after all. Maybe he needed the time to get his head on straight too? Or maybe he was afraid of facing her because he just didn't know how. She took great satisfaction in that theory, and so chose to view this loneliness as a good and impermanent thing. It was good because Jareth was alone too. It was also good because she knew it wouldn't last. It'd been three days now, they couldn't go on avoiding each other for ever, and she knew from Roldan that their engagement party was only a few days away. Surely he would want to figure this all out before then, right? A nagging voice told her that was just wishful thinking, that when it came to real emotion Jareth became one-dimensional; he was avoiding her simply because she'd told him to, nothing more, and wouldn't see her until she came back to him. Before, she might have thought that to be the case, but not now. She'd made a sacrifice for the chance of opening his eyes, even if it was just a sliver. She hadn't sent him away hoping never to see him again, she sent him away so that he could come back... If he had seen anything, if he had learned anything...

Lessons passed quickly, and the walk back to her room was quiet. Mariella lagged behind, and Sarah figured it was because she was too anxious to be caught in the same light as her. She was starting to feel a little bad for her; though she hadn't cared up to this point, her intention was never to upset Marie. With that said, her company was still no more than superficial, and all that brought her back to the present. Mariella was trying to be something more towards her. She was trying to care, and was doing a very convincing job of it. That was something she had wanted wasn't it? Maybe she should repay her kindness, maybe it was about time she finally spoke up. An outside perspective would be good for her; and besides, this was what she had been waiting for wasn't it? For someone to muster the courage to ask? She fisted her hands and took a deep breath.

"There's really not much left to say. We had a...confrontation," she said. Though her words weren't much, they did a great deal in absolving much of the tension in the room. Mariella worried her brow.

"Would you be willing to tell me about it? He hasn't hurt you, has he?" For a moment, she was skeptical of Mariella's interest, but the plea in her voice seemed true enough. She looked down and smiled at her hands.

"I think hurt is a relative term. We argued. We fought. We hurt each other. The only thing that makes this one different, is that this time there was no winner." She kept her gaze lowered as she spoke. Her voice was so gentle and subdued, and contrasted greatly with Mariella's own worried state. Mariella tried to analyze her words carefully.

"...You've reached an impasse then? Is it serious?" she asked, hoping that was what she had meant. Sarah shrugged.

"I wouldn't call it an all out impasse...more of a failure to resolve. And...yeah, I'd say it's pretty serious." Mariella perked up in her seat.

"Oh Sarah, I'm terribly sorry-"

"Why?" Sarah's interruption had come with a glance, one that left Mariella momentarily dumb. Sarah smiled. Wait, smiled?! "It's a good thing," she continued, and slowly turned back to the window. Mariella gaped a little.

"Why is that a good thing? Look how miserable it's left you! I-I mean-" Mariella staggered as she tried to remain poised. Sarah waited until she was finished.

"I think misery is precisely what makes it so. It's good, because it's about time we started taking each other seriously. If that revelation is a painful one, well isn't that sort of the point?" she asked. Mariella kept quiet, one veil after another slowly lifting from her eyes. In only one simple sentence, her perception had altered greatly. She pondered Sarah's words and expression, saw the haunting smile and complacency that moved about her. This reclusiveness, which she initially interpreted as depression, it now seemed like nothing of the sort. It was melancholy indeed, but it was also tranquil. It was blissful. It was peace. What in the world? She could feel her own verve fading with the enlightenment.

"...I take it he's done something rather atrocious then?" she asked, with a humbled tone, as she tried to shake off her own confusion.

"Yes...what he did was atrocious, because it made me do something even more so." Sarah's words were weighted, so heavily that Mariella didn't need nor want an explanation. She inched forward and reached out tentatively. She wanted to sooth her, but was at a loss with the way Sarah seemed already perfectly at ease with the conversation.

"I see. And...that is the reason then. You're avoiding each other."

"So it seems. To tell you the truth, I never thought he would stay away for so long. I don't know if it's me or my magic Jareth-dar, but something's tingling. I mean, it's been three days now, hasn't it? That's a record for him. I doubt it'll be very much longer. I swear I can feel it in the air. Maybe that's why I'm waiting..." Mariella furrowed her brow at the vernacular, but let it be; she was starting to pick up on all of Sarah's slang.

"...What do you mean, you don't know if it's you?" she asked. Sarah's brow twitched, she hadn't really given thought before saying it.

"I...I mean...well..." she mumbled and began to turn back around, leaving Mariella concerned with the amount of contention put into her scowl. "I'm just feeling very...anxious, I guess. I don't really know what I'm supposed to be doing." She gave a kind of shrug and pursed her lips. Mariella tried to stifle a sigh.

"That makes sense...I doubt he knows what he's supposed to be doing either," she said, though her statement held little impact; if anything, she'd have said Sarah hadn't heard her at all. Her eyes had traveled away and her arms had crossed. She had that worried pensive look again. "Um...Sarah?"

"Hm?" Sarah peered up as if they hadn't just been in the middle of a conversation and widened her eyes. She shifted her weight onto the other foot and began tapping her fingers against her biceps. And now she was anxious again? She caught the look in Mariella's eye and stopped her fidgeting. "Sorry, it's just..." and she let out another harsh sigh, "Would you call me crazy if I said I missed him?" Her brow was thoroughly worried, but her lips couldn't help but twist into an exasperated smile. She stared at her for a moment, but after catching the echo of her question, quickly started shaking her head in disbelief. Sarah's eyes soon met Mariella's again, and were obviously pleading for a specific answer, but Mariella wasn't sure what it was. Their gazes were quickly torn again however, as Sarah turned her head away one final time. "I mean, it's absurd, I know. After what happened...I just...but I...Ugh, I don't even know. I should be upset, shouldn't I? I should be spiteful at least. But I...I want to see him. Is that weird? Is that wrong of me?"

For the first time in three days, Mariella had caught a glimpse of the real Sarah again. Just expressing a single thought regarding Jareth had opened her up. It was astounding. All of Mariella's confusion, past and present, was starting to take shape. She didn't know what had happened, but she knew well enough what was going on. She eased back in her seat, and donned a look of tenderness.

"No, Sarah. That's isn't weird. It's only natural for you to long for him, regardless of what turmoils you've gone through. It means you care. You wish to make things better. It means you want to pick up the pieces rather than leave them scattered and broken. That's what you do in a relationship. Is that wrong?" Sarah glared away harder, clearly annoyed with her response, but this reaction didn't bother Mariella; if anything, it made her even more joyful because it affirmed that what she once thought was a hollow shell, was merely stifled embers. It was good to see some of her fire coming back, in whatever amount.

"_Miss_ him. I said I_ miss_ him. I don't long for him. Those are two totally different connotations."

"Whatever you say, Your Grace."

"And I mean, when I say I miss him, I don't really mean _miss_ him. Like you said, I want to get over this argument. I don't like feeling caught in the tide like this. So, if wanting him here to talk and get rid of this anxiety means missing him, then yea, sure, fine, I miss him. But I don't- I don't- Ughhhh this is stupid."

Mariella had to purse her lips as she watched Sarah begin arguing with herself. It seemed she had been successful in popping the cork, and it was simply delightful. Sarah wasn't dead inside, she was far from the sort. This moment was invigorating for her; and she hoped, for both their sakes, that Jareth wouldn't ruin the opportunity. Oh, how exciting this week was turning out to be after all.

"Let's compromise and say you're just going stir crazy," Mariella suggested, choosing to humor the mood. Sarah paused her venting and huffed.

"Yes, let's call it that," She wove an exasperated hand through the air then and turned back towards the window to pout. Mariella took a deep breath, glad that there was now hope in the world once more.

"Sarah, if this separation vexes you, why not seek him out? Force his headway, you could say," she asked. Sarah snorted.

"Please, that would deride the point. And besides, I already did that. No, he can come to face me when he's good and ready. I did my part."

"And what if he doesn't?"

"Then I guess he can kiss this whole marriage thing goodbye, because I assume we both need to be together at the altar to do it."

"Alright...and what if he does then? Are you prepared to reconcile?" Sarah turned slightly then, curious of Mariella's tone.

"...Why do you say it like that?" she asked. Mariella refolded her hands over her lap.

"It's just...well, come now Sarah. You say you wish to move beyond this, but are you prepared to make those concessions? Are you willing to forgive him?" she asked, frowning at the way Sarah scowled and straightened her back.

"Forgive him? No. I will never forgive him," she said, with quick conviction, "But reconcile this particular issue? Yes, I may be willing to do that." She unfolded her arms and placed her hands against the windowsill. "The point of this argument, Marie, is that whatever happens next is entirely up to him. The ball's in his court, and I'll do nothing to sway it." She cut the air with one of her hands as if she were lecturing a bird passing by and not the concerned woman sitting behind her. The air around her held a hint of vehemency and weighed her words, leaving a momentary silence that was a clear indicator to both that the conversation had reached its natural end. Though she still had much more probing to do, Mariella didn't mind, she'd still gotten quite a bit out of her after such a long silence. It was probably best to leave things as they were lest Sarah work herself up. But this was good; it seemed things weren't as dire as she had thought. It was obvious what Sarah wanted, the only thing that mattered now was whether or not His Majesty would catch on. She surely hoped so.

After a moment, she brought her attention back to Sarah, still brooding viciously out the window, and smiled. This behavior was a good sign. Things would be fine. It was then that she remembered Sarah's request, and realized this was her cue to go. She stood and walked over to her, and placed a hand on her shoulder.

"I'm glad to see you grumbling again, Majesty. These halls were starting to get a bit doleful without it."

Sarah let out a huff of laughter, but when she turned to glance back at Marie, she was already on her way to the door. She stared after her, but didn't say anything, smiling instead and then turned back to the window, not quite sure why the breeze felt softer than it had before.

Minutes passed, and the more she thought about it, the more she shook her head. Hm, girl talk with Becky had never been this satisfying. It was nice to feel like she had an honest friend again. She was right, finding her voice had been good for her. As she gazed out the window, her thoughts couldn't help but tangent to her _other_ friends, wherever they may be. On one hand, she felt so betrayed, so hurt to think that everything between them had been a front; but on the other, she could never believe that. She knew they were true in heart, she just hadn't had the time nor the courage to confront them yet. Maybe Jareth would let her see them? If they ever reached a point where they could just talk that is...

Was Marie right? Was she not only willing to get over this, but actually pushing for it? Why was she so biased? Though she had just spoken the contrary, if Sarah didn't know better, she might think she had already forgiven him. But that _would_ be crazy. Wouldn't it? She shook her head again, baffled with how much one could accomplish when left alone with their own thoughts long enough.

She'd made her move, and she'd done it with her head held high. In her mind, it was all on her, it had to be, so how could she forgive him for something she had done? She couldn't, because she didn't have to and she didn't need to. And because she didn't need to, she couldn't find a reason to be angry with him over it. Was she angry? Was she angry at him at all? The answer, surprisingly, was no. She wasn't angry over what happened. She wasn't angry at anything, not anymore. And so, in a way, in spite of herself or even him, maybe she had forgiven him already; and maybe that was okay because, just like it was her decision to tear herself apart, it was her decision to pull herself back together. She no longer cared that to do that she may have to pull him with her.

Things had taken a curious turn in the misty conscience of Sarah Williams, a turn that should have worried her, and in fact might have only a few days ago. But not now; though on the surface things had remained the same, something else had changed, something _more than physical_, and she couldn't have been more eager for it.

It was almost cliche' to say she felt his presence well before it was there, and even more so to say her intuition was breaching the line of prescience, but it had happened and she was right. She closed her eyes and pretended that the feel of the sun on her face was what put her at ease and not his proximity, as he now stood, staring her down no doubt, opposite her against the frame of the window.

  



	71. A Curious State, part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While unbeknown to her, Sarah has succeeded in obtaining the one thing the Goblin King has desired for hundreds of years -power over the Labyrinth. After being hidden for years from his diabolical wrath, Sarah finds herself alone and vulnerable as Jareth's dark desires are finally aloud to rear their ugly heads. As always, the only question is, are things really as they seem?

Jareth sat in his chair, brooding as he stared down at his desktop. His posture was so stagnant and listless it was almost foul. His eyes roamed blankly across the trails of woodgrain, but they were leading him nowhere. He continued to slouch deeper and deeper into his seat, sighing heavily with each word Roldan spoke, though he gave no thought to what those words said. The saunter of his eyes ceased when a stack of papers suddenly cut off his path. He sat up a little and took them in hand.

"As you are aware, the lodge has been reopened today to begin preparations. I've sent several workers in early, so refurbishments should be on schedule. Selvdahn -_the Couturier you requested_\- has already done a run-through, and has asked that I facilitate some matters he wishes your consultation on. I have the forms here..." Papers moved, things shuffled. Jareth sighed.

"It's mostly frivolous, things like color pallet and this flower over that; but since it's your wedding I thought it to be best you make the decision. I've already scheduled most everything else: the appropriate winery, performers and popular virtuoso. If I could just get you to sign off on a few things..."

Jareth rose an eyebrow as he signed his name blindly. He honestly had no idea what Roldan was even saying, much less cared for it. He was right, this was frivolous. His eyes were cast half-lidded as his vision went vague against the desk once more. He'd never been so bored, and equally distracted. His attention was caught in a haze, though strangely enough, the only thought that managed to manifest itself was that Roldan seemed to be awfully proactive and dare he say cheery today. That wasn't like him. Not these days anyway. He closed his eyes and leaned back in his chair.

"Is this it then? Or do you have something for me that you _can't _handle all on your own?"

Roldan drew his brow and was silent for a moment, though it wasn't from his King's irritable tone. In truth, Roldan was just plain surprised Jareth had piped up at all. He'd been so withdrawn these past few days. He held the folder he was about to place before Jareth closer to his chest.

"If you wish, I can see to all matters on your behalf, I merely thought you might want to take hand personally."

Jareth started to snarl then, for a reason apparent to neither of them. He'd been getting rather impatient with all of Roldan's ramblings lately. It seemed he was always asking him to sign this, or read that, to meet with these people and mandate one contract after another. Yes, he knew that things would be getting busy with the planning of the celebration and wedding, and yes, as King this was in its entirety_his job_, but Jareth's inner petulance couldn't have picked a worse time to curb his disposition. He'd been trying, for days now, to focus on work. Work was simple. Work was easy. Work was tedious and time consuming...but that didn't mean it was distracting, and in truth was having an effect quite the opposite. He registered Roldan's cheeky tone and clawed a hand down his face; something had really put a pip in his step and it was annoying the Hell out of him. His wedding was in two weeks; what he hoped would be the most looked-forward to event in his life was just around the corner, and yet right now it seemed like the most minuscule, irrelevant bother. He took a deep breath as his hand finished raking down his face and leaned back in his chair.

"How are your lessons going?" he asked. Roldan stood, looking to be caught off guard, and cocked his head to the side. Jareth had been so reserved this passed week, he hadn't expected such a direct question so off topic.

"It's...well...it's going rather well actually. We've been moving along at a fine pace," he said. Jareth pinched the bridge of his nose.

"And Sarah? Is she_ learning_?" he asked. Roldan started to draw his brow.

"I'd say so. She's become increasingly focused. I don't think I've heard one complaint or grumble out of her in days." Rolan honed his attentions on Jareth as he spoke, eager to study his reactions. While it was true that Sarah had become dramatically accommodating as of late, and thus had made his life that much easier, it was still curious. But from all the joy he took from that, he suffered equal concern for Jareth and his quiet antagonization. Jareth had hardly spoken a word or looked anyone in the eye for days now, and when he did it was always with harsh volatility. He hadn't worried himself too much over this however, as his work ethic had been higher than it'd been in quite some time. That was a good thing. Come to think of it, both Sarah and Jareth's behavior were equally favorable as they were worrisome, and now that he _really_ thought about it, he hadn't seen the two of them together all week, and he wasn't fool enough to not realize that there was an obvious connection. But it wasn't his place; even it he wanted to intervene, Jareth would never condone it. So he did nothing but answer his questions and file his forms.

"...That's good," Jareth mumbled, his voice distant. Roldan sighed, one mention of Sarah and he was already becoming distracted. What was it about this girl that he found so beguiling? "How has her temperament been otherwise?" he continued. Now that really made Roldan's brow twist. Why would he need to ask him that? Shouldn't he know himself? Then it hit him. Maybe he didn't. Since she'd arrived, Jareth had been trailing after her like a lost little git; if something was keeping them separated it must have been serious. Maybe the connection between their strange moods was something he should be concerning himself with after all.

"Fine," he said, and saw Jareth's brow twitch at such a simple response. He didn't know how to read into that. "She's been quiet, which is surprising; but otherwise I suppose she's just fine. Like I said, she hasn't been as argumentative. I took that as progress...Is there a reason why you're asking me?" The tail end of his question came with the raise of a sassy eyebrow (there was only so much he could keep back), and was proud that was the only bit of petulance which escaped him at the way he was then ignored.

"Hm..." Jareth murmured. And that was all. Roldan's inner sass curbed.

He watched as Jareth slowly stood from his chair and ran a tired hand through his hair. The look in his eyes was a million miles away. Gods, all this drama was really starting to irk him, and he wasn't even a part of it. That stupid woman. All she was doing was muddying everything up. If he could, he would grab Jareth by the collar and shake him back to his senses. But that didn't happen of course. No, instead he just stood there waiting for an order that never came as he watched Jareth walk right past him out of the room.

* * *

The hall stretched farther and farther; corners became irrelevant, doorways nonexistent, lonely echoes lulled. There was only the path, leading him to a place he had no intention to go. He took one step after another, his face twisted in a bitter frown that ought to have seared the floor beneath; but no amount of grimacing could stop him, for he had no idea why he was even walking in the first place. What had compelled him to get up and leave Roldan just then? He didn't know, or rather, he didn't care. He didn't care about anything but the awful pit in his stomach. He felt trepidation, he felt frustration, he felt feebleness; but this walk, this walk felt of ease. It felt effortless and natural. It was like a breeze was flowing through the hall guiding him with it. He'd been so inert, both spiritually and physically, he could no longer think nor wanted to. The numbness had come full circle and became painful; and so he let the path guide him.

His mind was all but absent as he stood before the door. He had no idea if she would be inside, yet he found the very prospect of it frightening. Why was he here? Where had this courage come from, when he himself was still so inept? Courage? No, there was no courage. It was compulsion, only because waiting was proving to be more painful than facing the source of discomfort. Because not seeing her was more torturous than any amount of berating. Because the memory of the look of utter loathing on her face was more destructive than it could ever be in person. In person he could walk away from it, he could close his eyes and it would be gone; but the memory...no matter where he ran or how he fought, the memory would always be there, staring at him from behind his own eyes. And as he walked, as he spoke and read and signed day after day, those eyes which stayed with his stole his gaze. Those eyes, so green and fierce and battered and broken; eyes full of anger and sadness. Eyes whose tears sparkled, that glistened with disappointment in him.

He fisted his hands at his sides as he stood with his head lowered, like a dog in shame, before the door. His teeth gritted as he fought for the courage to walk away, and even he was able to realize how strange it was to be more afraid of turning away from this door than of facing whatever was on the other side. What was he to do? He had no plan, he had no words prepared. Three days and still he was clueless. She had scorned him in one of the only ways possible, and the blow had been heady. He'd never felt like this before. He'd never_ not known_ what to do. Loving a woman had never been this complicated before. But then again, he had never really _loved_ a woman before had he?

Just the thought of love made him cringe in shame, as even he knew this was not how one loved another. He couldn't help himself. He had a weakness for getting caught up in the moment; and oh, how compelling she could be in the moment. He should have seen this coming. He both over and underestimated her. He thought she was more like him deep down. He thought she could take it. But the more he thought about it, the more he realized they may be _too_ similar.

Like ripping off a bandaid, he rose his head from the floor and left that dreadful door behind him. He hadn't the conviction to raise a hand to it, so had decided to skip the obstacle all together and appeared on the other side. He was quiet, in case she were nearby. He wasn't fully prepared for the sheerness of her stare should she face him just yet.

He stood for a moment, and was put at ease by the familiar scent of the room. He took a deep breath and his shoulders relaxed, but the painful tension about him stayed. He looked up, his eyes starting right and scanning about the room. It was perfectly quiet, yet he found it soothing when compared to the troubled air looming about his own room. Never again would he be able to stand in that room without reliving that night, never again would he be able to sit in his chair without feeling the tears in the leather, or look down at the floor boards without seeing blood smearing a path away from him. She had ruined so much...why did He have to ruin so much?

He took a step further into the room so he could scan around the corner when a fluttering at the window caught his eye. Assuming it was nothing more than a curtain swaying in the breeze he peered up to it reflexively and was then frozen in place.

The room was so quiet and still, he hadn't realized she had been there all along. She was caught in the light, the paleness of her skin and the darkness of her hair contrasting greatly with the bleak muted stone around her. She stood with her back to him, gazing out at the world like the poor songbird that she was, as the breeze pranced about the locks of her hair. She wore a dress, pure white, which fell just past her knee. He drew his brow, confused and concerned why she was dressed in such a fashion, but couldn't fight off the rock that formed in his throat at how unbelievably beautiful he found her. He tried to swallow that lump, but it didn't help as his eyes traveled around her contours. She was so slight, so graceful and lithe. No one but he would know just how torrid and powerful she really was. The wind whistled and picked up at bit, ruffling up the ends of her skirt. His eyes were drawn downward as she then raised a foot to rub at the back of her calf as she shifted away from the cold; and as she turned he saw the sunlight hit the side of her face, and felt such bliss and unrestricted joy it was like nothing that had happened mattered and all the anguish he felt not moments before now failed in comparison to how much he adored her, utterly and hopelessly, in that one fleeting moment.

He stood like an idiot before a picture he was sure his guilt had painted, but found it oddly liberating. She sighed and leaned to rest her jaw on the heel of her hand, and he found himself wanting to smile at her trivial state of boredom. He took a step forward, but just as he did, did she turn to brush her hair behind her ear, revealing the despondent scowl which marred her face. Whatever fancy that had deluded him just then left just as quickly, leaving him even more dejected than before. He didn't know how to approach her. He didn't know what to do. All he knew was that the pain of seeing her was better than the pain of not seeing her, so there was really nothing for it. He'd already made it this far, surely there was a reason why his heart had picked now of all times to come to her...

He walked up and leaned against the frame of the window. He kept himself turned away from her, kept his eyes on the floor. His arms were crossed over his chest and one ankle crossed over the other. He scowled hard, as if he were angry for even being there, and in some sense he was, leaving him oblivious to the faint smile and wander of her gaze as she scoped him out from the corner of her eye.

* * *

Sarah felt a weight lift from her shoulders as her eyes caught the stark white of a shoulder and hints of golden wisps out of her peripheral and had to bite her lip to stifle a smile of ease. She didn't look over to him, she didn't have to. His presence alone was enough. She could tell by the angle she saw him in that he was slouching against the wall, facing opposite her. She lowered her head and started knotting her fingers. His brooding aura let her know she wasn't the only one feeling this anxiety. But at least she was right. At least he was here. That was a step. In the back of her mind, she wondered how she had known he would be here...

She had no idea what expression was on his face, but the silence that stretched wasn't a pleasant one. She lowered her head even further.

"So...long time, no see."

Her words came out awkwardly, only adding to the tension, and after mixing with the ease she secretly felt, fluttered up all kinds of unwanted butterflies. She knotted her fingers more vigorously. Jareth shifted his posture.

"Yes, well...you didn't exactly specify," he said, his voice overtly terse, though she knew not to take it as such. He was just as uncomfortable as she was.

"You're right. I didn't."

She could hear the leather of his gloves crinkle as he squeezed his arms tighter. Her voice had sounded more annoyed than she intended.

"Do you want me to leave?" he asked. Sarah cracked a faint smile. He'd never asked her that (and meant it) before.

"No."

It was quiet for a moment, neither knowing how to guide the conversation. Sarah took a deep breath, while Jareth seemed to be choking on his.

"You look...very lovely today," he said, almost forcefully. His eyes started roaming over her as best they could, seeking for hidden reactions. She remained perfectly still.

"Thank you."

"White suits you...your skin and your hair, I mean. Especially in the sunlight..."

Sarah turned, only fractionally, not enough for him to notice, as there was something about his voice that had caught her attention. It was distant and indirect. He was masking something, clearly holding back with small talk. She found his struggle greatly satisfying.

"Thanks."

"May I ask why you-?"

"It's just easier, I guess," she said, with a shrug. "Roldan makes me change for dinner now, and it's just easier to wear one outfit a day rather than change four times out of spite. I don't know what happens to the laundry, but I figured I'd make it easy on whoever does it by only dirtying one outfit rather than two or three." Her nerves made her ramble, but she hoped he wouldn't read into it. She didn't notice, but Jareth had turned to fully look at her by this point. His eyes were pleading, but they didn't know what they wanted. She smiled as she spoke, staring intently out the window rather than him, but he was glad for it; he could appraise and appreciate her beauty with ease. He'd never realized the way the sun illuminated her skin. She seemed...so very much at ease.

"I see...I'd say I approve of the change, but I had no qualms with your attire before hand," he said, almost making Sarah laugh. He was being so careful to tip toe around her, it was just as surprising as it was expected.

"A change was needed. And besides, I'm sure you approve regardless."

Jareth's gaze flickered down at that and he cracked a smile, unsure what the mood of their conversation really was. She didn't seem to be upset with him. They were already making jokes with one another...Though then again, he wouldn't describe her as being very happy either, nor their jokes all that sincere.

It was quiet again, longer this time and twice as unsettling. She knew he was holding himself back, but now the tension was starting to fester. She had no care towards the discomfort however, as this was a bubble she refused to pop. For once he was the one to squirm; she'd wait until he sorted it out on his own.

"...I am sorry," he muttered, with little conviction. Sarah closed her eyes briefly.

"I know."

"I don't know how many times I can say it for it to matter...but I mean it..." She didn't respond to that, and his gaze, which had warily wandered up to her, now fell back to the floor. "Do you hate me yet?" he asked. The sudden pitiful tone of his voice made it harder for her to not look over. She fisted her hands on the sill.

"No, Jareth. I don't hate you." Her words were annunciated, like she were speaking to a child. He scowled then and looked harder at the floor.

"Why?"

It was quiet. For a moment, he thought she wouldn't answer.

"If you're expecting pity, you won't get it. I don't hate you, because it's my choice not to; and there's nothing you can do to change it. Only I can do that," she said, sounding so wise and resolute, when really she was alluding to something else entirely. The subtext was not lost on him. He stood a little more rigid.

"You're angry."

"No. I'm not." It was quiet, but she could sense the look on his face and on a whim turned to face him. "What, you don't believe me?" she asked, her unrestricted gaze locking onto his and not letting go. There was a fleeting moment of dismay in his eyes, having not been ready for her fierce attention, but she ignored it, along with her own torrent of butterflies. That puppy dog look could wait. "I'm not angry with you over what happened, Jareth. Everything leading up to it, maybe; but not that." Her voice was stern and her tone bored, as if she was offended he didn't already know. She wove a hand through the air and then crossed her arms. Her eyes narrowed and her lips pursed, a look he knew well and missed even more, and then looked away shaking her head. "Everything that happened I did to myself. I did it_for_ myself. I was the one who came to you. I was the one who wouldn't stop. I made it all happen. The consequences for those actions were-are mine to deal with-"

"So I was little more than an instrument then?"

"Yes, does that make you feel any better?"

"No, it doesn't. But I suppose that's the way you wanted it, isn't it?" he asked. Sarah bit her lip as she scowled.

"You're not the only one who can play dirty, Jareth. I have been learning from the master after all." Her voice was so hard it made him wince. He took a moment to think, he wasn't sure how long. This silence had become excruciating; all he wanted was a way out of it. He didn't know why he had come here, and it was now painfully obvious that he wasn't ready in the slightest. His nature was resolute, no matter how much he fought against it. If they could only just start over. If they could just call a truce and try again...maybe then he could be what he needed to be. Maybe then she could be what she wanted to be.

"...I don't know how to fix this," he said, that being the only solid conclusion he was able to make. They'd been cast down a particular road, it would be hard to just skip to another; but at the same time, he had no idea how they would survive if they continued down this path. It was so dark...would they be willing to guide one another?

"I told you, some things aren't meant to be fixed."

Jareth snarled then. The conversation was becoming stagnant and he couldn't stand it. Sometimes the best way to surpass an obstacle was to just go around it rather than fight your way through...

"Like I said, _I don't know how to fix this_. I barely know how to apologize, let alone be sorry. Though if that's the case, I don't think that would help anyway." His voice grew louder, his emotional grip slipping only for a moment. He was getting frustrated with his own incompetence. The potential energy of the room was itching for release, and a part of him was urging that he make a move, any kind of move, good or bad, it didn't matter, just something to knock them out of this rut. He thought about reaching out for her and embracing her until she fought for release. He thought about clawing his hands into her hair and demanding an answer. He thought about smashing their foreheads together and drinking her in as their secret yet unbridled vehemence clashed. But sadly, and perhaps for the better, he had not the conviction to do any of these things. He instead closed his eyes and let out a sigh, his body going lax in defeat as he said, "I know...I know that I am not able to make right what happened between us; but if you'll allow me, perhaps for the time being, I propose that we come to a compromise and try to simply move on from it." His eyes opened, staring straight ahead, feigning that sour conviction which he found so elusive. Sarah turned towards him, curious and worried things were about to take a disastrous turn.

"What are you asking?" Jareth's brow drew tighter.

"I won't ask for your forgiveness...But if you mean what you say then you'll at the very least give me your hand," he said. Sarah stood straighter and rose said hand to her chest defensively. She eyed him up and down, but he seemed totally withdrawn. That couldn't be good, surely. She was tentative when she spoke.

"For what?" she asked. Jareth closed his eyes as he stood from the wall, as if he needed to compose himself. When they reopened, they stayed low, even though he stood directly before her. He started to reach out to her, but couldn't finish the gesture. He too was tentative.

"...If you wouldn't mind...if you'd give me the chance...I would like to show you something."


	72. A Curious State, part 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While unbeknown to her, Sarah has succeeded in obtaining the one thing the Goblin King has desired for hundreds of years -power over the Labyrinth. After being hidden for years from his diabolical wrath, Sarah finds herself alone and vulnerable as Jareth's dark desires are finally aloud to rear their ugly heads. As always, the only question is, are things really as they seem?

She stared at him strangely for a moment, not so much out of caution but just plain confusion. This wasn't exactly panning up to be the encounter she'd expected. Did he actually have something planned? Had he really gone out of his way to set something up on her account? It didn't seem like he did, but then again, he was at the very least making an effort.

She saw the way his hand fought against the urge to offer itself to her, and on a whim she extended the olive branch by reaching out for his instead. Did she have to accept this gesture, partial as it was? No; but she did, because they needed to take a step. Together. This was about building bridges after all...now was as good a starting point as any.

His thumb brushed against the back of her hand, before the awkwardness caught up and forced him to release her altogether. He took a step away and straightened his back.

"You should probably put some shoes on," he said. Sarah drew another curious brow, but did as he suggested, happy that he had gone out of his way to _suggest_ rather than straight up order her to do so.

"Where are we going?" she asked. He moved to open the door for her while she finished slipping on her shoes, though he didn't respond until she was crossing under his arm.

"For a walk."

She stayed close to his side as they began walking, her curiosity helping to distract her from her anxiety.

"Anywhere in particular?" she asked.

"Perhaps."

She pursed her lips at his answer, wanting to protest against his aloofness, but didn't have the energy and so remained quiet. She was curious after all, and admittedly eager for the change in routine. She kept an eye on the hall, trying to see if she could figure out where they might be going, but the corners they took led nowhere of any significance. They walked in silence, though now contented by it. She'd thought about speaking to him, making small talk or whatever, but the sternness about him was off putting. She wondered if it had anything to do with their destination.

With these thoughts looming overhead, she stopped paying attention to the path. When she finally came to, she was surprised to no longer recognize the hall they were in. Her mouth opened to question him, but she held her tongue, her eyes caught on a large door at the end of the hall. It was wooden, enforced with metal brackets, and had a strange vine-like design with flowers and birds carved into it. This struck her immediately, as none of the other doors she'd seen had flaunted a design this descriptive.

"Where are we going?" she asked, eyeing Jareth conspicuously as they came nearer towards the door.

"I told you, just a walk."

"Why don't I recognize this door then? Or this entire hall for that matter..." She began peering about worriedly as they stopped before the mighty door, then looked back up to Jareth for a verdict. He placed his hand on the door, preparing to push it open.

"That's because I haven't shown it to you yet."

The door opened, but whatever was on the other side remained a momentary mystery as a bright ray of light blinded her ill-prepared eyes. She rose a hand to shield herself, and as the door opened further, she heard the sounds of birds chirping and felt the pressure of a draft as it chilled her exposed limbs. The air became crisp and refreshing, and the vacuum of the hallway seemed to release like the castle itself had taken one deep lingering breath. Her eyes recovered from their disorientation quickly and focused on the image in front of her, before her excitement propelled her straight into it.

She took a step, and then another and another, until Jareth and his brooding were the furthest things from her mind. The first things she saw were pillars, enormous, glorious pillars glowing with a rosy hue as the sun beat down on their Corinthian capitals with gentle grace. Between these pillars were archways, brilliantly molded, connecting the ceiling of overcast stone which shaded the patio beneath. The floor was made of a stone she'd never seen before, but was so soft to the touch she swore she could feel it through her shoes. She turned in full circle as she marveled at the surroundings. The carving of the stone was so much more delicate, so refined and intricate compared to the rest of the castle, for a moment she thought they were somewhere else entirely. She looked to the side and saw the patio stretched far along the side of the castle and was dotted with tables and chairs and chimes. The sun breached the void between each column, casting scattered rays and dancing shadows which together made the entire area hum with natural vitality. For a moment, she just gaped, wondering how in the world this place had been right under her nose and why, why why why had Jareth not shown her this before? But even those words were lost when she finally focused on what was waiting just beyond the frame of columns.

The amount of unfurling greenery left Sarah so abashed, one might think she'd never before experienced such a color. All she'd known of the Underground was bleak desert, with only a memory of the forest she saw from her window; but even the lush of that tropic failed in comparison to the foliage, artfully crafted, which posed itself before her.

There were hedges and trees, well preened, which encircled and gave shape to a pleasant courtyard. The center of this, directly before her, displayed a fountain, so sumptuous and smooth, it would have made the Greek masters wail in reverence. Its figures loomed, in ardent embrace, over the area, and from one sprouted valiant wings which curved with such fluidity, it looked as though the statue might break into flight at any moment, taking his beloved with him into the sun. Surrounding the fountain were lilies of every size and color growing about its rim, their roots even breaching the pool itself. There were benches and chess tables and grottos and flowers galore, with a cobblestone path to connect them all which wove throughout the circle.

Only a few seconds had passed, but to Sarah it had felt like a decade as her eyes made one discovery after another. She stopped at the edge of the patio and turned back to Jareth just as he was shutting the door.

"What is this place?" she asked, her voice full of awe and wonder. Jareth kept his eyes away from her, as if he were ashamed of it.

"It's outside," he said, and moved to join her at overlooking the scape. "I told you we still had the

grounds to explore...I thought now would be as good a time as any."

Sarah gaped at him, wanting to smack him upside the head and yell _"You waited this long to show me this, you fool?!"_ but refrained to simply turn and go back to admiring the view.

"So, is this like, the royal garden or something?" she asked.

"No. This is just a courtyard. There is one for every exit out of the castle, aside from the main gate and merchant alleys that is." Sarah's brow rose.

"How many are there?" she asked. Jareth pondered a moment.

"...About twenty or so. I don't remember exactly."

"Are they all different?"

"Slightly. Enough not to get them confused with one another. It can sometimes be rather tedious trying to figure out which door you came out of when trying to go back in."

"...I see," she mumbled, and began drifting into the scenery. At first, she was careful to stay on the cobblestones, as if touching any of the foliage were sacrilege. Jareth lingered, watching as she gazed this way and that, tiptoeing from one path to the next. She seemed much more vibrant now, though he tried not to take her excitement to escape confinement as happiness. That would be giving himself too much credit.

She continued to wander this way and that, poking at the flowers and gaping at the sculpture. Some of these flowers she'd never seen before, and wondered if they were native to her world at all. Eventually, she made it to the fountain, her real destination all along and just stood there, tilting her head as she inspected it from every angle. It looked somehow familiar, but she couldn't quite place it.

As Jareth watched Sarah's slow frolic, he began to think of what to show her next. The grounds were vast, and its spectacles endless; but for all he could show her, he sadly realized he had no idea of which she might enjoy. Crossing his arms, he slowly sulked his way to her, standing by her side as she gazed at the fountain. He examined it with her, but couldn't find whatever it was about it that had enthralled her so.

"This statue looks familiar, what is it supposed to be?" she asked. Jareth rose a brow and tilted his head, trying to remember the answer himself. It'd been so long since he was last out here, it was becoming hard to recall such details.

"I believe in your world you know them as Cupid and Psyche," he said. Sarah's gaze widened, as if the lightbulb had finally gone off.

"Oh. Yea, I can see it now. It kinda looks like that old Greek one," she said, tilting her head this way and that. Jareth spied on her from the corner of his eye.

"Canova."

"Hm?"

"The artist who sculpted the statue which you are referring to, was Canova," he explained.

"Hm. I don't know that much about art, but I'll take your word for it," she said, and walked away. Jareth, shut down from a moment of familiarity, could only smirk at her lackadaisical air and followed after. She walked for a pace, then halted and swung around to face him. "So, is this your compromise?" she asked, and again Jareth smirked at her mock-sass. He still couldn't gauge her, but perhaps that was what she was aiming for. Their lucidity was wavering, making it seem like their actions towards one another were a facade and indeed they might have been; though they still served as a distraction at the very least, from the enormous elephant not-so-quietly slumbering in the back of the room. Choosing to continue ignoring it, he leaned a hip against the rim of a table and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Actually, this is just the front door. I had planned to show you something more, if you're so inclined." Sarah caught wind of the playfulness seeping through the cracks of his voice and had to turn herself away so not to encourage him. She still wasn't sure how grumpy she wanted to be with him, but the fresh air and freedom of her surroundings was making it difficult for her to be cross.

"By all means, lead the way," she said, with a gesture of her hand. Jareth leaned up off the table and moved past her.

She followed him, and as she did looked beyond the fountain and was able to realize the wall of shrubbery was incomplete. Beyond the opening she saw a field, a vast field, and a hint of a forest beyond that. They reached the end of the path, but as Jareth stepped onto the grass, more cobblestones seemingly rose from the ground to further this new direction. Sarah, now gaping at this action, scuttled close to his side and only looked up again once the wonder of that particular magic had worn off.

They were crossing the field, but it didn't seem like there was anything on the other side. She looked all around- the sun hung large in the sky without a single cloud to obstruct it. She could hear and see birds and insects humming about, and was curious about which other lifeforms she may encounter. After a while though, when the long monotonous walk became tedious, she finally spoke up.

"So, where are we going now?" she asked. Jareth glanced back over his shoulder.

"That depends, are you eager or anxious?" he countered. Sarah gave him a look of detachment.

"Neither, just wondering where we're going. We've been walking through this field forever now." Jareth smiled then, but she didn't see.

"No, we haven't." Apparently, that joke was lost on her. He could sense her grumbling and took pity. "See that fence over there?" Sarah peered around him to do just as he'd asked and was a little surprised she hadn't noticed it before.

"Yeah, what about it?"

"That's where we're going." That pesky playfulness made her sigh heavily, but she chose to gripe in secret. No doubt he was being cheeky on purpose, trying to keep the mood light n all, but damn was all this coyness necessary? As if they weren't avoiding enough already...

They arrived at the fence, and again Sarah was daunted by how large it was up close. It stretched as far as the eye could see on both sides and was taller than her. She started looking for a gate, but there was none to be found.

"I take it we're supposed to cross this? How are we supposed to get over it when there's no- oomph! -Hey!"

Before she could even finish complaining, she felt herself being lifted, much too short notice for her liking, and glided with Jareth arms curiously around her, over to the other side.

He pushed off of the fencepost and landed weightlessly, setting Sarah back down on her feet. Could he have just conjured a gate for them to walk through? Yes; but where was the fun in that? As she stood beside him, hands on hips as she grumbled about their quandary, Jareth found his gaze towards her full of tenderness. The tension was starting to lift from him the further he walked beside her, as if that was all it took; who would have thought such a meager act could be so gratifying? This air of solemness was slowly filling with delight, and its ambivalence was felt by the both of them, he was sure. She seemed her normal self, eager yet annoyed, passionate yet reserved. The one thing missing was the only thing he had expected, her anger. It was strange. Her pheromones were quiet, yet there was a pleasantness to it, not like before when it was unsettling, to say the least. Could it be true that she wasn't angry with him? That she didn't blame him the way he blamed himself? What was this peacefulness he saw behind the facade of her stoical eyes? There were questions, but the one thing that he was sure of, was that she was here with him now. She was giving him a chance, and that was enough for him. It was with this motivation that he reached down and scooped her up without further hesitation, the gesture making for a weak mask to get away with touching her the way he so yearned. But in that split second that she hovered in his arms, did he remark how light she felt, and thus the fall back to Earth was a sobering one.

He was pleased that she allowed him to release her, instead of jumping from his grasp. She stood before him and smoothed out her skirt, then looked up to him with a slightly bewildered expression.

"What the- Did you? Did you just jump over that?" she asked, seemingly abhorrent. Jareth furrowed his brow at the ghastly look on her face.

"Yes? Does that bother you?" he asked, warily. Sarah eyed the fence, then him and back again.

"N-no. It's just...that was unexpected. I didn't realize you could jump that high." That look and tone made it clear she was weirded out. Jareth didn't really know how to respond.

"I vaulted off the post, if that helps." He wasn't really sure what he was trying to do here. He didn't think she had ever looked at him like that before.

Sarah leaned back on her heel as she pondered.

"Ok, well, I guess that makes sense. After experiencing Marie's unnatural endurance, I suppose jumping six feet straight up into the air is just normal for you, too." She wove a hand through the air as she spoke, causing Jareth to furrow his brow further at how exasperated she now seemed. "Is there anything else you can do near super-human?" she asked. Jareth rose a brow at her, fighting himself not to take advantage of her question.

"Oh, probably. But I think we should save those for another time, lest I overwhelm the physical restrictions of your brain." His sarcasm was self-evident, and he moved to continue walking. "Come on, wouldn't want to miss what we've walked all this way for."

They walked to the summit of a small hill which overlooked the rest of the plane. From there, Sarah could see the tree-line of the forest, and the hint of a building peeking out of the brush. She looked over, and saw Jareth had taken a seat on the ground.

"What's over there?" she asked. Jareth stretched back.

"It's a stable."

"Stable? Like a horse stable? We're in a pasture then?" she asked. Jareth, starting to feel the heat of the day, removed his gloves and rubbed the back of his neck.

"Am I supposed to answer that?" he asked, rhetorically. Sarah narrowed her eyes on him, fully aware of the wall he'd put between them, and joined him in the grass in a place both awkwardly close and strangely distant. She pulled her knees to her chest and hugged them, letting the warm air tickle her skin. It was warmer down here than way up in her tower; she felt more comfortable now...or maybe it was just him.

They were quiet, Sarah sighing in the breeze while Jareth stared her down from the corner of his eye as if the meltdown were eminent. Though she was not blind to his anticipation, it was the wall which refused them to meet. She knew he wanted to reach out, and in truth she wanted to meet him half way, but the mound between them was too much right now, all they could do was tip toe around it. It was then that Sarah laughed. For all the tension, for all the frustration, all the lack of boundaries and all the anger they'd ever felt towards one another, this void of detachment was more off-putting than anything she'd ever felt before. Even though she may have been fighting against it, Jareth had never held back from her, never. And now that he was...was she really resenting it? "You find something amusing?" Jareth asked. Sarah shook her head and squeezed her legs tighter.

"Not really. It's just...kind of funny, don't you think?"

"What is funny?"

"You and me. Here. Like this." She turned towards him with a smile he couldn't place. Their eyes met and he could have sworn he saw them spark. "After that night, I couldn't imagine how we could ever face each other. But I suppose...when you don't know how to do something, all you can really do is do it anyway, right?" Her smile turned complacent, and she shrugged a little in reassurance. Jareth just stared for a moment, still lost in the fleeting brightness of her eyes. How was she so tranquil? How could she just brush everything off like it had been any other squabble? What sort of epiphany had she had during their time apart? And why was he so unable to see it?

"Yes...I suppose you're right. I thought a few days would be nothing, but-" he cut himself short, his tentative words overpowered by the sheerness of her attention on him. Had he really been so thirsty for her that even the slightest glance would overwhelm him? He tore his eyes away so he could finish. "But...I'm impatient as it is, and I thought..."

"Maybe I wanted to see you too?" His eyes sprang to hers in an instant, but just as some miraculous connection was about to be made, a rambunctious babble of noises began to blare from up ahead. With a slight gasp, Sarah turned away from him and faced the tree-line, her attention thoroughly stolen and the moment shattered before it could even form. Jareth sat up, both thanking and resenting the intrusion.

"Seems like we haven't missed them after all." Sarah's eyes flickered over to Jareth at the sound of his voice, but was otherwise firmly engrossed with whatever force that was soon to burst from the forest. She could hear bushes rustling noisily, branches breaking, ground shaking. As the sound grew near, she was able to discern the gallop from the tremble and the whine from the wind.

"You have a herd of horses?"

  



	73. A Curious State, part 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While unbeknown to her, Sarah has succeeded in obtaining the one thing the Goblin King has desired for hundreds of years -power over the Labyrinth. After being hidden for years from his diabolical wrath, Sarah finds herself alone and vulnerable as Jareth's dark desires are finally aloud to rear their ugly heads. As always, the only question is, are things really as they seem?

One by one, the shadows of the forest dispersed as the figures of majestic equines of every variety filled the scene. Sarah knew nothing about horses, but was able to recognize a popular few, a Pinto, an Arabian, a lumbering Clydesdale, an Appaloosa and a Paint. Each one was different either in pattern or in breed, she was sure. Like a wave they settled over the pasture and began to graze, as if the fantastic stampede had never occurred.

"I didn't know you had so many horses," she said. Jareth leaned back, comfortable enough now to sprawl under the sun. Sarah had to turn to look down at him. Her eyes were curious. His were closed.

"_Hmph_, you didn't know I had horses at all."

"Why do you have so many? Why are they all different?" Several mares were starting to wander near. In her excitement, Sarah hoped the rest would follow so she might see them better.

"It's a bit of a sport," Jareth said.

"Hm?"

"There are no horses in the Underground. So it's become a bit of a habit for aristocrats such as myself to gather them from your world and collect them. They're traded between houses as gifts, usually accompanying treaties or as a personal hobby." His voice was so calm as he spoke, the tension was almost invisible. Sarah wasn't sure who she should be investigating more, he or the horses.

"That's why they're all different kinds?" Jareth nodded. Sarah turned back and observed. She'd never really been much of a horse person, but she didn't have anything against them either. Actually, come to think of it, she'd never been up close to a real horse before. This moment was indeed exciting, whether Jareth realized it or not. "They're all so beautiful..." Jareth peeped open an eye at her airy tone, an eye which she caught when she twisted back round to face him. Her smile...seemed much more genuine. "Could we go near them?" she asked. Jareth became more attentive, he hadn't thought this would peak her interest so much.

"We could, but not now." He regretted the frown his words met.

"Why not?"

"Because they aren't what I want to show you. If we approach them now, she might not come out." Sarah drew her brow, but the look was lost on Jareth's closed lids.

"Who might not come out?" she asked. Jareth stretched further.

"You'll see. She's never too far behind. Give it a few minutes and let me know when she comes out." Sarah only grew more and more puzzled as he spoke, but his casual dismissal left her with little room to qualm. Instead she turned away and sought into the crowd, searching for what ever it was Jareth was talking about.

Time passed pleasantly slow as they lounged on the crest of the hill. The sounds of the horses a ways off kept the silence from getting awkward as they tried to further acclimate to the other's company. Jareth remained in his supine lax, trying to quietly meditate away his bothersome anxiety, while Sarah, far more attentive than the mood called for, continued to search the tree-line for this mystery guest. Who or what would be following after the herd and why was it important? She couldn't figure it out, and as the line of the underbrush continued to remain intact, she thought that maybe her curiosity would never be answered.

"Jareth. It's been like twenty minutes and I still don't see anything. Could you just tell me what it is I'm supposed to be looking for?"

"Hm? Has is been that long already?" She turned and threw him an eye, but he seemed perfectly content under the sun. His eyes were still closed, and she couldn't help but take advantage of it. Her eagerness grew shallow and her gaze lowered down his front. He always looked so different to her out in real light, without cane or capes or trimmings. For being so pale, his skin had a way of glowing when caught in the sun. It was warm today, so he had no coat. The cuffs of his shirt were undone, exposing his forearms as he reclined them behind his head and the folds of his collar ruffled over his chest in the breeze. His expression was relaxed, but she knew he wasn't really. She frowned then. He was so beautiful in moments like this, when he was docile. She turned away and frowned harder, confused as to why she felt very sad all of the sudden.

She leaned forward and hugged her knees, her eyes resuming their casual search once more.

"Jareth? Do you ever think that maybe..."

There was something odd about her tone, something important. Jareth opened his eyes and moved to sit up, but just when she was about to finish her question did something cause her to hop up to her knees and steal her attention. She leaned forward and her eyes, once cast in shade, now beamed with excitement.

" *Gasp* Jareth! There's something coming out of the woods. Is that it?!" Jareth furrowed his brow, still hung up on whatever it was she was about to ask him, but finished sitting up all the same. He peered into the tree-line and immediately spotted what had caught her attention.

"Hush now or you'll spook her," he said. Sarah narrowed her eyes and rose a hand to shield them from the sun so they could focus. Whatever it was, it was a good distance away, and being obstructed by the brush made it hard to identify. She started shaking her head uncertainly.

"But...it's just...it's just another horse? It's just a white horse, what makes it so special from all the others that we had to wait for it?" she asked. Jareth smiled, but held his tongue; she'd figure it out in only a moment or two.

"She's too far away for you to see. Give her a minute, she'll come near."

Sarah watched as the snowy mare trolled the underbrush like it were a barrier separating it from the rest of the pasture. It would come close to the light, fidget cautiously, before a random neigh would spook it back into the shadows. This went on for minutes, until eventually it had wandered closer into their view; but still Sarah couldn't tell what made it so special.

"Why is it so skittish?" she asked, her eyes flickering over to Jareth and noticing he'd scooched closer towards her. Jareth leaned forward, keeping his eyes fixed on the mare.

"She's wary of open spaces. It is very rare that she will venture too far from the coverage of the forest. But with the herd so near, I imagine she will come out just a step or two." Sarah furrowed her brow at him, confused at all of it.

"I'm confused. Was she abused or something?" She started shaking her head, but Jareth's sly grin gave nothing away.

"Just keep watching. Please."

She turned back towards the mare, humoring Jareth by continuing to watch it spook itself away from the sun over and over again, until finally it seemed to find some sort of closure. It stomped its hooves at the shadow line and would tentatively take two steps forward, then one step back, until finally it had forced itself out of the obstruction of the trees. It kept its head low, as if surveying the area around it, though Sarah had no idea why it would be so wary in the first place. It was when the sun first hit her brow that Sarah finally saw what it was Jareth was going on about. She stepped farther and farther into the pasture, until the tranquility of the scene allowed her to raise her head high and enjoy it. Sarah actually rolled back on her butt she was so dumb-struck. The way the light glinted off it was...

"From your reaction, I take it you finally see." Jareth turned back to scoff at Sarah's amazement, and was only a tiny bit pleased that he was able to bring out such a fun reaction. She sat back up and leaned forward on her hands and knees.

"Is that a- a god damn UNICORN?!" Jareth rose a brow and cracked a smirk, surprised that she had kept herself from using a more vulgar phrase. While her outburst wasn't loud, it was enough to call the mare's attention. Its head darted up, looking straight at them. Sarah's hands sprung to cover her mouth, and again Jareth laughed.

"Control yourself or you'll spook her," he warned. Sarah calmed down and sat flat on the ground, then turned to him and forced herself to whisper.

"_You have a freaking unicorn?! You're telling me those actually exist?_" Jareth rose a brow at her.

"Apparently. Although they are extremely rare, even in my world. As far as anyone knows, they're only native to Meyhaven. I underwent quite the barter with King Alexsielee to acquire just this one here."

"But I thought you said the Underground didn't have horses?"

"It doesn't. Unicorns aren't horses, they're manifestations of nature, like Nymphs and Goblins and every other magical creature."

"Oh...why doesn't she like open spaces?" Sarah asked. Jareth shrugged.

"It's not that she doesn't like open spaces, she's simply wary of them," he said. Sarah became more concerned.

"Why?" she asked. Jareth couldn't help the dastardly grin that flashed in the split second before answering.

"It's the only place where her mate can find her." His grin was slowly creeping back, making Sarah more and more unsettled. _I thought he said he only had the one? Why is he staring like that? What in the?_

"What do you mean her mate?"

Just then a loud virile shriek cut through the air. Sarah's head whipped around but she couldn't see which horse had made the sound. The cry came again, causing a stir amongst the herd and sending them into a messy stampede. Confused, concerned and a little bit afraid, Sarah began to search for the source of the ruckus. That was when a dark blur caught the corner of her eye. Now even more perplexed, she looked towards the sky, and her look of confusion turned to plain disbelief.

"What the hell is that?!" She yelled, no longer concerned with the anxieties of the mare, as she was sure their feelings were one in the same. Jareth smiled fully and leaned back on his hands, seeming so smug with the creature's grand entrance.

"That would be my pegasus."

Sarah watched the chic velour of a black stallion glint in the sunlight as mighty wings thrust it in for a landing. In unwarranted horror, Sarah turned her eyes towards the poor mare, fearful of what might happen next and praying it had already run off into the woods with all the others. That was when her brow slowly drew tight; for the mare, as panicked as it was, did not run off to safety but instead stood its ground, raising up on its hind legs to confront the beast. Sarah turned back to Jareth, who looked like he'd seen this scene a hundred times before.

"What the hell is going on? You just told me she's afraid of that thing. If your plan is to make me watch a unicorn getting raped you need some serious notes on problem solving." She looked so angry as she spoke, that to Jareth it was almost a relief. But his smugness was unwavering. He leaned towards her until their noses were only a fraction apart.

"Perhaps you should give me a chance and just watch."

She tried to maintain conviction, but it was hard given the proximity of his face to hers. The last time he was that close was when she was kissing him madly. Regardless of context, the image made her gulp. For reasons unknown to her, she felt a heat rise in her cheeks and tore herself away from his gaze. Jareth withdrew with more ease, but kept his attention on her.

Sarah, now wary and annoyed, watched as the stallion and the mare seemed to just prance around one another. The mare's actions, while offensive and aggressive looking, never evolved to a true attack; and while the male's gestures with its wings and muscular body were definitely intimidating, they were no way forceful.

"I'm still confused. What exactly is going on right now? It looks like they're just dancing around each other."

"That's because they are. They're courting." Sarah glared back at him.

"They're what? Do horses do that?"

"A unicorn and a pegasus do that, apparently. You were so quick to cast pity on her. Did you ever consider that she is the one directing him?" Sarah scowled and looked away, trying to better understand the scene before her and ignore his pesky subtext.

"You said she's wary to come out because of him."

"Because her intent is to lead him on. She wants him to fight for her favor. As you can see, she didn't run away when he confronted her, yet she will not yield to his advances either. She's hiding so that she can be caught." Sarah scowled harder as if that alone would shoo away his words. Was that it then? Is that what he really had planned? Calling her attention to a stupid parallel to their own fucked up relationship? Hopefully, if she was obtuse enough, he would just lay off.

"Maybe they're just not meant to mate. They are different species after all, aren't they?" she asked, but there was tension in her voice.

"Perhaps. But their mutual interest is hope enough."

"Hope enough? You want them to breed?"

"Of course. That's why I acquired them. Winged Unicorns, or Alicorns, a word that has been used to call them, are the epitome of the rare and exotic. I can think of no one at court who would not go to great lengths to acquire one." Sarah had turned back to glare at him, but he wasn't taking her bait.

"So you're doing this for political leverage?" she asked.

"Hm, you'd be surprised how far mere pleasantries can get you in the world of aristocracy." She turned back towards the horses, the male had started trotting after the female like they were playing a game. A game. _Humph_.

"And I guess this whole cat and mouse thing you've revealed to me is just symbolic coincidence, right?" Sensing her agitation, Jareth leaned forward to be in line with her.

"You could argue that either way; but in all truth, I was just trying to find something to show you that you might like. And even if it is backhanded, it's better than completely ignoring the issue, wouldn't you agree?" She spied him out of her peripheral, suffering lingering annoyance, but couldn't find the will to rebuke him. He was right after all, at least he was making an effort, as catty as it was. She lowered her head to rest her chin on her knees and grumbled.

"Hm..." She watched as the horses' bout came to a close; the unicorn, waving her horn around like a weapon at the male and coyly withdrawing into the forest, while the pegasus flapped its wings at her in retaliation. For a moment, she wondered why he didn't just chase after her. "How come he doesn't just follow her into the forest?" she asked.

"She is of the forest and he is of sky; though they are both creatures of magic and nature, one cannot breach the other's domain." Sarah stared on, questioning why she found his explanation very sad. They were the same, but they were different. They were together, but separated. Maybe that was why they wouldn't mate, because they knew they couldn't ever really _be together_... She was thoroughly distracted when Jareth spoke, "Sarah..." She didn't look over, but her ears twitched in a sign that she had heard him nonetheless. Seeing her dismissal of him crushed whatever amount of confidence he had been mustering and so he cast his gaze to the ground. The creatures had left. It was quiet now. Just the two of them. Together...but separated. He sighed heavily. "I don't know what you're expecting of me, nor what you're thinking of me, and I don't care, so long as you know that -while I've gone about it in all the wrong ways- all I've wanted is happiness for us-"

"For you," she clarified. Jareth paused. "I think you mean happiness for you."

"And for you."

"Selfishly maybe." Jareth sighed again. She was right. He wanted her to be happy in a way that would _make him happy_, but there was no changing that. No matter what obstacles came between them, he would never let her go. She would always be his. Even if she couldn't be happy with him, he'd rather have that than nothing at all, regardless of whether he ever acquired his powers or not.

"My manner is flawed, I acknowledge that, but it cannot be fixed." His voice was full of petulance, but he didn't much care. All of this, everything that they were doing was nothing more than a distraction from _this_. The things that were to be said needed to be said, no amount of grumbling would help it.

A moment had passed, and the silence returned. Sarah didn't respond. The herd was gone, the pegasus flown away. They were all alone. The wind picked up a whistle and grazed through both their hair. He wondered, where they were to go now.

"Jareth...can I ask you a question?" Sarah's voice was surprisingly light, minus the tension and agitation of before. Jareth peered up. "Why are you so awful?" He gaped when she turned back, meeting him dead in the eye. For a moment, he thought she expected him to give her a literal reason. "I know you can be nice, I've seen you do it. You're doing it right now. Why not be that from the beginning?" Catching on, Jareth blinked himself back to his melancholy and turned his gaze back to the grass.

"If I did that...you would end up irrevocably disappointed."

"Huh?"

"If we started out at the top of a hill, for a time the horizon would seem perfect, but eventually you would look down and see the cracks and faults which lay under its surface, the hill would crumble and you would fall to the bottom and be lost amidst a darkness you didn't know. But...if you started at the bottom and chose to push through and climb those faults and cracks, then by the time you reached the summit you would understand them and by reaching the top you will have accepted them, maybe even healed some of them; and I feel that journey is far more gratifying." Sarah's brow slowly became worried. He was being very serious all of the sudden. "I do not hide my nature from you Sarah, as you would have preferred, because I would rather you know the worst of me and only that, than a facade in which you know nothing." Sarah's eyes flickered down and her frown solidified. She'd never had this kind of talk with him. It was almost surreal. But then again, was she really expecting that same charismatic deviant from before?

"That's a pretty speech, but I'm not buying it." Jareth peered up to find her scolding him. He sat up a little straighter. "Jareth, you split yourself into the good and the bad and expect me to sew the two back together, but did you ever stop to consider what things might have been like had you never separated the two to begin with?" Jareth blinked; they were speaking to each other in metaphors that would at no other time have made any sense, yet they each knew what the other meant completely. Why was that? Where did this sense of understanding come from? Was it perhaps because, for the first time ever, they were speaking on the same level? He smiled incredulously in spite of himself and shrugged, turning his gaze away from her.

"...I suppose not. Seems we were doomed from the start then, weren't we?" he asked, and moved to stand to his feet. Sarah's gaze followed him up, but she remained seated.

"Seems that way." He offered her a hand.

"Well, might we carry on with our walk then? Better something keeps moving forward." He pulled her to her feet and turned away.

"Wow, don't sound so glum," she said, barely having time to brush the stray grass from her skirt before he was walking away from her. He stopped to wait until she caught up to his side.

"I'm not concerned with our fate, so long as I'm walking with you now," he said. Sarah scoffed. She wasn't sure when or how, but the mood was eerily light.

"Mr. Sentimental."

"Mock me all you want. Regardless of it all, you know that I care about you." She stayed by his side as they walked, not sure if they were following or being followed by the ever rising stone path. All this talk of caring and compassion was new to her, normally it was about a lack thereof; but he seemed sincere, to the point where she thought that maybe he always had been. It wasn't just the sun that was casting him in a different light; and as they walked, she began to understand the alien peacefulness which had surrounded them all that time on the hill. They hadn't yelled, gotten angry or made threats. They weren't arguing against one another, they were just...talking. And in the back of Sarah's mind, a deadly voice whispered that for her it wasn't a question of whether or not he cared, but a question of of how much.

* * *

The walk through the pasture was relatively quiet. They happened upon a few horses here and there, but Sarah no longer had the urge to investigate. Their exit was through a gate this time, leaving Sarah strangely disappointed. She knew Jareth could do things like teleport and walk on walls, but she'd never really thought about the extent of it. Her scientific curiosity urged her to find out more about his abilities, but now wasn't the time. They carried on through another field next, one which Jareth explained was used for games and tournaments. There were remnants of bleachers and banners and tents that would be set for things like duels, jousting, vaulting, horse races, all manner of sport really. His demeanor had returned to that of when he'd first given her a tour of the castle, casual and businesslike, and she realized that must be his default when trying to distract himself. After looking everything over and seeing the vastness of the grounds, she found herself asking if the Underground had Aboveground sports like soccer or football, to which Jareth responded that it could if she wanted it to be. Such casual small talk brought about an ambivalence of contentedness and unease within her. She was very much enjoying this time and was very much eager for it and yet on some level that felt wrong. It felt like they weren't allowed to have this ease when there was still so much that needed settling, and yet she was too afraid to bring it up anymore than they already had. She wondered if Jareth was feeling the same, and she bet he was. At least they were in it together. Hm. Together.

Jareth filled the silences by describing things to see that they could not yet see and might come back to another day. When she would ask why they couldn't go now, he said he had something else in mind that they were already closer to. They passed a few more courtyards, some of them bustling with Goblins pruning and taming the foliage. Sarah couldn't help but think of Hoggle then, and was only one impulse away from bringing it up. She tried to distract herself instead.

"So where are we going now?" she asked.

"Well...after your earlier question and seeing the way you lit up in the courtyard, I thought maybe you might like to see the actual royal gardens."

"Is it really better than the courtyards? Because I don't think I can even imagine that."

"Oh, it's ten times better." She peered up to him at his playful tone. No doubt he was mocking her.

"What's so special about it?" she asked.

"Well...there are lots of flowers. I understand you women tend to like that sort of thing." He shot Sarah a smirk and a sarcastic brow. She shot one back.

"Mhm, I bet _your_ women do." Jareth's smile broadened.

"Actually, I've never had another woman in the gardens before." Sarah's brow rose.

"Really? Why?" Jareth shrugged, though it seemed he was holding something back.

"Well, mostly because I've never had to. _My women_, as you call them, are quite content in any number of chambers within the castle walls."

"Wait, you don't take women to _your_ chamber?" she asked, as if that were the biggest surprise yet. Jareth wasn't sure how to respond.

"No...my chamber is reserved for my wife."

Sarah's smile, as weak as it was, faded away completely at how stern his voice had become just then and as she peered up, saw the disgruntled tension twisting his brow. She neither understood nor liked this change, though wasn't sure if she should pursue it or leave it be. She took her eyes from him to mull over her motivations and caught sight of what looked to be another hedge fence off in the distance, the entrance of which was marked by a golden gate.

"Is that it? The sun is so bright I can barely make it out," she asked, apparently choosing to drop it. Jareth looked forward towards the horizon.

"Yes. Though don't worry, it's not as far as it looks."

Sure enough, the two came upon the gate much quicker than physics should have allowed, leaving Sarah to marvel at the gate which was no bigger than her thumb just a short time ago. Of course, like all the doors in this kingdom, it was ginormous. Standing twelve feet tall and made of think gold bars, it looked like the heavenly gate of St. Peter, or Eden rather. Smaller bands of gold had been gilded and welded into intricate knots and swirls of a Celtic nature and opened automatically sensing their approach. All that was missing were an array of white doves, a reference which was lost on Jareth, though Sarah found amusing all the same. She didn't hesitate to take a step over the threshold, and was thus surprised when Jareth's hand was suddenly holding her back.

"Huh? Why can't I go in?" she asked, immediately annoyed. Jareth's eyes roamed from her head to her toes.

"You need to take off your shoes first." She blinked and scrunched her brow in confusion, even when his eyes came back up to hers expectantly.

"Why?"

"Consider this...a type of hallowed ground if you will," he said, but that only made Sarah more skeptical.

"Okay, what does that have to do with my shoes?" This time Jareth looked surprised.

"Roldan hasn't taught you yet?"

"Taught me what?" Jareth rolled his eyes and shook his head, obviously exasperated with something important. She tried to think back in case she forgot something. "Um...if this is something religious, we haven't gotten into tradition and ritual yet. He was saving that for closer to the wedding so it would be fresh in my mind." She hoped that would help, not that she much cared for sticking up for Roldan, but still. Jareth rolled his eyes down to her.

"I see. Well then, I suppose I'll just teach you now. It's already been explained that woman hold higher position in our culture-"

"Loosely defined." Jareth shot her an eye, but she didn't budge, so he continued.

"The reason for this being that we are beings connected to nature on an intimate and inherent level. It is the source of our magic and the source of our existence. Nature is life in its spiritual form. Women, as you know, are the progenitors of our physical life. They take nature's life force and make it manifest, they are the bridges between this world and the next. This is why we place them on pedestals, for they are able to establish a connection to magic and the lifestream that men simply cannot. Therefore, when presented in a place such as this, where nature itself is idolized, it is a sacrilege to sever the link between said Nature and its Conduit."

Sarah eyed him strangely, not exactly the reaction he had expected.

"Okay. And that's why I have to take my shoes off in the garden?" Jareth was quiet, not sure if she was being serious or just mocking him. Either way, he was on the verge of irritation. There were many rules of his own culture that Jareth cast aside, Roldan could attest to that, but this was not one. Sarah peered around, and then glanced back to where they came. "But, I could wear shoes all over there...so that nature isn't as special as this nature?" It was becoming apparent that she was indeed mocking him.

"This garden serves as an idol, or as you might better understand the altar of a church that happens to be our world."

"Hm, interesting...Alright. Though, may I point out that I'm a human? Even though I'm a woman, I don't have a connection to magic. So this is all rather for naught isn't it?" She slipped off her shoes and stepped onto the grass, almost surprised that the path didn't follow. The grass was cool and crisp beneath her feet, a sensation she hadn't felt in ages and realized had been taken for granted all this time. She took a few steps into the garden, leaving Jareth behind.

Like the courtyard, the entire space was encircled in hedge trees. The opening "lobby" area, as she would call it, was in many ways similar to the courtyard as well. There were stone benches and flower bushes and fountains. Leading out of this small enclosure were pathways marked with overhanging vines like tunnels. She could see taller trees and fountains from over the inner walls, and realized the real spectacle must be further in.

Jareth stayed by the frame of the gate to watch Sarah gander. Seeing her like this...dressed like that in a place like this, it was something out of his dreams. Her dress glowed in the sunlight, its rays casting shadows on her form underneath. The wind swayed her skirt around her, making even the slightest reveal of calf or knee alluring. His eyes stuck to her feet; what she didn't realize was just how relevant this experience really was for him. Sarah might not have been Fae, but she held all the power of The Labyrinth inside her, the very essence of nature itself. To him, that made her more mystical than any pureblooded being of his world. And as she now stood and twirled and glanced back at him with a smile she didn't know she had, he thought, achingly so, that maybe what happened would be worth it after all. He imagined a day when she would be his; only he would have the liberty to approach, to embrace her and twirl with her; and though he thought that day might never come, if it weren't for her gall they never would have made it to even this point. And so...maybe that was why she was so peaceful. Maybe that was why she refused to be angry with him. Forget starting at the top or the bottom, they could make their own summit, in any shape and at any rate they chose.

"Hey? You coming?" During his daydreaming, Jareth hadn't noticed Sarah's smile fade to worry as she waited for him to join her. He shook his head and smiled to himself; yes he had told Liana he would use his feelings for Sarah to his advantage, but there was a risk of letting them take advantage of him instead. He needed to be careful or he'd lose sight of how this all began... He joined her by her side, and ushered her to begin.

  



	74. A Curious State, part 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While unbeknown to her, Sarah has succeeded in obtaining the one thing the Goblin King has desired for hundreds of years -power over the Labyrinth. After being hidden for years from his diabolical wrath, Sarah finds herself alone and vulnerable as Jareth's dark desires are finally aloud to rear their ugly heads. As always, the only question is, are things really as they seem?

"Wow, this place is huge. I mean, look at that waterfall, that's crazy!"

Sarah's adventure through the garden went as expected. She saw many things, most of them plant related, but still it was more beautiful than anything she could have imagined it to be. She'd found Goblins of varying races doing varying things. Some were pruning, some were potting, some were dusting fairies. Others were playing chess, and others were simply passed out under the overpowering scent of flowers. There was a pond, and in it fish Sarah had never seen before. Needless to say, she was thoroughly entertained, giving them both time and a distraction from themselves.

"I had no idea this was here. I couldn't see it from any of the windows." She took a seat on a stone bench, needing the rest. She looked down at her feet, which were now dirty and stained with grass. Silly traditions...

"It's on the south side of the castle. I doubt you're over there very often." Jareth joined her, but kept a healthy distance away, as he had during their entire walk. She looked around, spying on Goblins minding their own business, when something odd came to mind.

"Say...how come there aren't any other Fae here?" she asked. Jareth sat back a bit. Her question was innocent enough, but he was in no place to give her the whole truth.

"Quite simply, no one wants to live here. You've seen the surrounding area. It's all desert. Fae tend to like things with a little more flourish." Sarah rose a disbelieving brow and made a gesture towards their surroundings.

"But the grounds are beautiful. There's plenty of flourish."

"In the castle, yes. But I don't trust anyone enough to let them live here permanently." Sarah narrowed her eyes on him.

"Hm? Why?"

"Because a court of any kind is dangerous. And I've amassed enough power to where I don't need one to sustain my social standing. I have Roldan, and plenty of competent Goblins, and that's good enough." His eyes wandered off to the side, feigning distraction on a nearby bird, as if he could be drawn from the topic so easily.

"And Liana."

"Hm?" It was like he didn't hear her. She wasn't taking his hints.

"You have Liana too. Though...I don't think she lives in the castle, does she?" Sarah asked, though her tone made it difficult for him to identify her real inquiry. The last time they had talked about Liana, it hadn't gone very well.

"No. Actually, I don't know where she lives," he said, lying through his teeth. In fact, he knew Liana's home residence down to the pattern of the floor tile. Her heart was in a saucer atop a pedestal located in the core of the castle. Oh, the pains he and all his ancestors had gone through in keeping it secret...Best continue before he got distracted and let something slip. "But it's not like my kingdom is inhabited solely by Goblins. There are plenty of Fae in other districts. I have Lords and Ladies just like any other kingdom."

"So...is that where it got its name from? Because only Goblins live in the capital?" Sarah's question was so childish it almost made him laugh, but he stifled it for her sake. He was just happy he'd managed to turn the conversation away from Liana.

"I suppose. Though I was not King when the country was formed." Sarah looked down into her lap, deeply contemplative; and from the air about them, it seemed like this were any other day having any other conversation. This flux between complacency and anxiety throughout the day was having a very rough effect on him.

"From what I've read, an absence of Fae in the capital has always been the case..." He shot her a sharp eye from his peripheral, hoping direly that she would drop the subject. There weren't very many excuses he could make on this one, and none of them were satisfactory. He tried to play it off with ease.

"What can I say, my family has always preferred solitude," he said, which was a truth...

"I guess...but doesn't it get lonely? I mean...it was just you and Roldan occupying the entire castle before..."

"People come and go. We both have plenty of business to occupy our time. And besides, in those times when I ever did get lonely, I thought about getting someone like you." He gazed down at her teasingly, seeing how much he could get away with. She was already glaring by the time he caught her profile.

"Oh, I'm sure. Glad I can serve as a bit of entertainment for you. Too bad I can't be as useful to Roldan." Her tone was disgruntled but the way her feet swayed in the grass betrayed her. He chose not to take her seriously.

"Roldan is coarse by nature, but he'll come around, one way or another." She peered up to him then.

"Yeah...speaking of that, he's been oddly nice to me lately. Maybe he is coming around, or maybe you simply stopped ordering him to be purposefully mean to me. One way or another right?" Her voice was tersely condescending. Jareth's gaze started to fall and he sighed.

"I told him one day was enough. After..." He paused; Sarah became curious at the way his words lingered and she watched him intently as his eyes closed while he gathered his thoughts. After a moment, he sighed again. "Instigating you is no longer necessary." His voice was much more stern now, she became more attentive. "Those lessons...are no longer necessary. Lessons involving me anyway." Sarah's eyes widened, and she gaped up at him like she hadn't heard him correctly and was waiting for him to repeat himself. He could sense the ease and relief that flooded over her at his admission and such a reaction only made him feel worse about the whole thing. Had he been reading her wrong all along? Her scent didn't lie, her dreams didn't lie; was she really so allayed by this? Was his touch really so coarse to her...

He was surprised when she asked,

"Why?"

She sensed a tension move through him just then, resulting in a definite crease in his brow. She'd been getting glimpses of the tumult he was feeling beneath this pleasant facade all day, but now, being so close and isolated like this, she couldn't help but feel some sort of sympathy.

"I've told you numerous times...what effect intimacy would have on your stability...and after the display you put on that night, it's clear you have a firm grasp on yourself. There's no further need to carry on." Sarah's brow started to scrunch the more he talked. He sounded as if he were angry and she actually felt a little bad about it. Maybe it was just the alleviation she felt of knowing her nights were now safe from routine molestation, but she almost couldn't stop herself from reaching out and telling him it was okay. Instead, she kept her hands firmly rooted in her lap.

"I see...I suppose I should be glad then. I mean...I actually learned...and did something right..." Her head lowered subconsciously as she spoke, allowing Jareth to cast his glance back over her unseen.

"And yet you sound uncertain."

"I do, don't I?" She looked back up to him with a false smile, and it was painfully obvious just how sour the air between them had become. He held her stare until she was forced to shrug it off. "We're pretty messed up, you know that?" she asked, her lighthearted tone trying to ease the mood. Surprisingly to her, this only made Jareth frown.

"The last time you said that, I believe you were screaming it at me; and now you say it with such a gentle smile. This whole affair has brought us to quite the curious state, hasn't it?" And just like that his smile came back. It was faint, and it was forced, but it matched her own and that meant that they were trying. She turned away and slouched in her seat, feeling comfortable that they each had a reasonable understanding of the other. She never imagined they would have to go through so much to get to a place like this.

They welcomed the silence, as it seemed to now be working in their favor by lightening the mood rather than making it awkward. He was distracted by a fairy fluttering in the bushes beside him, and so didn't notice Sarah's attention wandering off in its own direction.

"Say, what's over there? I don't think we've gone down that way yet."

Jareth looked up to find her pointing towards an opening across from them, crowned by an overhanging veil of yellow roses, decorated with stone and bronze nymphs. There were taller trees beyond those walls, concealing many things, haunting things that Jareth forgot he had forgotten. He pulled out of his daze and blinked it away, surprised this particular gate hadn't called his attention sooner.

"That would be the Queen's Garden."

Sarah peered up to him, uncertain, yet eager.

"Hm? The Queen has her own garden? Can we go in?" she asked, like a child on a school trip. Jareth smiled, she probably didn't realized she had asked him for something again, but he did.

"You are the Queen, aren't you?" he asked, mockingly. Sarah scowled.

"No. I'm not actually."

"Close enough," he said, giving her a soft laugh as he stood from the bench and took her hand, leading her with him.

Immediately, Sarah noticed that this section of the garden was different from the rest. For starters, there were much more flowers, solely flowers; no shrubs or bushes or any other kind of plant that didn't have something to bloom. It was much more claustrophobic and the smell was almost overpowering. There were little fairies fluttering about, though Sarah reminded herself not to bother with them. The path opened up however, to reveal a quaint little pond with a statue similar to that of the courtyards. She knew this one was greek from the wreath some beautiful woman was placing atop an equally beautiful man's head, though again the story she couldn't place.

"Who are those supposed to be?" she asked. Jareth peered over in a manner that struck her as odd; he seemed genuinely distracted this time.

"Apollo and Daphne...I believe Cupid is hiding somewhere in here too." Sarah scrunched her brow, she

wasn't familiar with that one.

"What's their story?" she asked. Jareth rose a brow and rubbed the back of his head, as if asking him to recall was such a grant feat.

"I believe it goes, the mighty Apollo, after slaying the python became pompous and arrogant and one day mocked the bow of Cupid in comparison to his own. In retaliation, Cupid struck Apollo with a love arrow, and forced him to fall madly in love the the Nymph Daphne, whom he had also struck with an arrow of repulsion; thus Apollo was cursed to forever chase Daphne, and she was cursed to forever run away; until one day, when she could take it no more, Daphne pleaded to the gods to save her; and so just when Apollo was about to seal his loving embrace, did Daphne transform into a laurel tree. In his grief and undying passion, he took her branches and wove a wreath to wear around his head so that she may always be with him."

"I see. That's really sad actually...Say, how do you know so much about this stuff?" she asked. It always struck her how he would know certain aspects of the Aboveground and not others. Jareth seemed fidgety all of the sudden.

"I don't. The person who designed these statues did. I happened to ask them the same questions you ask me." Sarah stared at him for a moment, trying to dissect his integrity. She believed him well enough, but his strange aloofness was concerning. Maybe the smell of the flowers was getting to him.

They continued to walk through the garden, but as they did, strange thoughts started to form in the back of Sarah's mind. For some reason, Jareth's sudden absentmindedness seemed important. He was fine up until this point, or so she thought. Yes, today was a very stressful day but they had been doing pretty well thus far; she would even go as far as to say things felt...normal. It was only after entering the Queen's garden that the anxiety returned...This was a place he said he hadn't been to in quite some time, a place he'd forgotten about. A place someone else had designed.

Sarah's pace started to slow as all kinds of pieces started coming together, and all of the sudden the mounting issues which drew them together yet kept them apart, that plagued her nights and worried her days, were the furthest things from her mind.

"Jareth..." she uttered slowly, with caution.

"Hm?" Jareth turned, but didn't anticipate the intense scowl of deliberation that had stolen her features. He too stopped and waited.

"This garden has been here for a long time hasn't it..." She stared at the ground, at her feet and the flowers around her. It looked like she were having some kind of horrible epiphany, but he had no idea what it was.

"Yes. Why do you ask?"

"It's just...very well maintained. And my room..." This time, Jareth was the one to draw his brow. Her room? What did that have to do with anything?

"What about your room?" he asked.

"Nothing, it's just...when Roldan first got here, he thought my room would be somewhere else... In the east wing I think...I've never been in the east wing." Her voice lowered to a mumble, a clear indicator that she was concerned with other thoughts. Jareth became more alert, not having the faintest idea what was going on.

"Sarah?"

"And there was a book..." Sarah winced as she said that, having to fight the urge to face-palm at how stupid she was. How could she not figure it out sooner? All the signs? Roldan, the castle, how could she forget the book?

"What book?" Jareth stepped closer to her.

"The lineage book." Then her expression turned grave, and It was then that he realized what she may be thinking. _Thealon ascended the throne. Betrothed to Lady Aleigha of the Goblin Kingdom, who bore two sons, Jareth and Davion. Jareth ascended the throne. Betrothed to... _She kept her head lowered and her hands at her sides, as if she felt shamed for even asking,

"Jareth...have you been married before?"

She was answered with silence, until she found the courage to look back up to him. His stance was more rigid than it had been, and his expression more stern. He was staring straight at her, but she didn't know if that was a good thing or not. Her brow remained thoroughly worried.

"Yes. Once. A long time ago." His reveal seemed to release some sort of emotional shackle from around her, but right now it only made her more anxious. What was this feeling? And why was she feeling it so strongly? It was...shame, mixed with embarrassment and all kinds of insecurity. Was she jealous of this? Or just upset? Why should she be feeling either in the first place? Was it really that big of a surprise? He was a King after all, a centuries old King renown for his sexual prowess. If anything, the fact that it was only once should be what was surprising... She lowered her head again and glanced around the area.

"So...this is her garden then..." she mumbled, feeling suddenly unwelcome. These flowers, those beautiful statues, even the architecture in the courtyard. There was a reason it was so different from the rest of the castle, it was designed by a woman. _I don't. The person who designed these statues did. I happened to ask them the same questions you ask me_. He was talking about her, his first wife. How many other times had he been making secret references to _her_? Wha-what? What is this? Why was she thinking with such a jealous heart? With the way their own relationship stood, she had no right.

"Actually, this garden was created by the wife of Exelion, the first King," he said, and while the explanation should have helped, it didn't. She was just too surprised and she didn't know why. However, the past few days had taught her how to keep such reactions internalized, though she didn't think she had the will to express herself at the moment anyway.

"Oh...that makes sense. It all makes sense, I guess. Some of the things Roldan says...he's comparing me to her, isn't he?" _All those times, all those strange looks he gives me...I knew there was a reason why he looks down his nose at me the way he does. It's more than me being an obnoxious human. It's because I'm not her..._

"Yes," Jareth said, and started to frown. He could tell a great deal of turmoil had hit her all at once, but they weren't in the proper circumstances for him to console her the way he desired. What was she thinking? Was she jealous? Or simply insecure? Could he use this to his advantage to win her over? Or would it just push her away further?

Sarah looked around and moved towards a nearby bench, though she didn't sit. She was very tentative now.

"Could you...tell me about her?" she asked, giving in to look up to him. Her eyes were wide and full of uncertainty. He on the other hand remained perfectly composed.

"Why?" he asked, not fathoming what she could possibly gain from knowing anything about this. From her initial reaction, he knew it would only upset her. What exactly was she after?

Sarah stood a little straighter and pulled herself together; this panicky insecurity was middle school bullshit. She was better than that. And besides, knowing anything about Jareth's past might help her understand how he got to be the way he was now.

"I don't know...because. I'd like to know." Jareth held her gaze, testing her, and took several steps towards her. As curious as she was acting, there was a strength of conviction in her eyes.

"Alright."

She took a seat at his confirmation, and he took the one beside her. She watched him closely as he leaned back and closed his eyes briefly, as if calling back the memory.

"Her name was Aurelia and she was very beautiful." She observed him quietly as his eyes reopened, but a shade was cast over them. He was quiet for a moment, so she urged him on.

"How did you meet?" she asked. He sat up straight again and rubbed a hand over his knee. Was recounting this making him...uncomfortable?

"...When my father passed on, I was still very young. A condition of inheriting the throne was that I marry immediately in hopes of procuring my own heir as soon as possible. Something that you may not realize, is that there actually are droves of women who would jump at the chance to become my courtesan let alone my wife. Many were brought before me, all I had to do was choose. I found Aurelia to be the most pleasing, she was of proper pedigree and of a proper disposition… and so it was done." Jareth's story, as anticlimactic as it was, only had Sarah more interested. He was tip toeing around this, as he so often did with things that mattered. If something had happened...something that could have made him the way he is, she needed to know.

"I see...what was she like?" Jareth glanced over to her with a smile, feeling a bit incredulous that she could be genuinely interested. Gone was her apprehension and worry, replaced with firm intrigue. He wondered why she was so curious. In all truth, it was a time he'd rather forget altogether.

"She was sweet, and gentle, accommodating and nurturing, obedient, polite, well-tempered, sophisticated-"

"Okay, I get it. She was everything I'm not." His smile was the give away, allowing Sarah to interject against his jesting. Whatever mystery surrounded this woman, it apparently wasn't traumatizing enough not to make light of. That should be a good thing right? But then again, hadn't they been masking their own source of trauma with lighthearted jokes all day?

"On the contrary, you are everything she wasn't." His voice was lower and so were his eyes. A thought had made him withdraw but she didn't know why.

"How is that any different?" she asked, starting to get fed up with all his word games. The faint spite in her voice seemed to work, as it called back his attention. He sat back and looked out at nothing.

"I remember she had long, long golden hair that reminded me of honey and summer, and she wielded a tenderness that every boy desires. She was very pleasant. She cared to my needs and was happy to do so. We were very..._content_ together. She did her job well, connected with the subjects and brought a good reputation to the kingdom. And for a time, I believed I was happy." Sarah pulled away from him, her insecurity slowly returning.

"...What happened to her?" she asked, somehow feeling bad that they weren't together still, though on one hand, if they were, she herself wouldn't have to be here...

"She died. Giving birth to my son."

Forgetting her own issues, Sarah leaned forward with eyes widened with surprised sympathy and concern. That was not what she expected him to say in the slightest, and to just lay it out so bluntly? Her eyes searched his face, but he seemed totally unaffected.

"What?! You have a son?" she asked, not sure which part of his sentence was more shocking. Jareth closed his eyes.

"No."

Sarah blinked repeatedly, but after sensing the wall that was starting to form between them slowly sank back into her seat.

"But you just said-"

"There were...complications during her labor. She caught a fever that not even our medicines or our magics could help. There are risks for us just as there are for you...The child was asphyxiated whilst still in the birth canal. Technically he was never born, so technically I never had a son." Sarah rose a hand to her heart and struggled to reach out for him with the other, though, just like his from earlier, the gesture never made it.

"Jareth I- I'm so sorry." And the waver in her voice said she truly meant it. Jareth glanced over, surprised that her compassion towards him was so sincere, or maybe it was just pity. Either way, she'd never looked at him like that before, like she were looking into him and actually seeing something worth the effort left on the inside. The sternness of his features humbled. How wonderful would it be if she shed a tear for him rather than because of him...

"Don't be. It was a very long time ago, and time has a way of healing most wounds," he said, meaning to be reassuring, though failing miserably. Sarah perked up in her seat a little, baffled that he could be so complacent.

"How can you speak so calmly?" she asked, sounding startled with his own lack of sympathy. Was this the horror that broke him? Was this the thing that turned him so sour? That made him so vile? Why- why was she so concerned with the answer? Why did she want the answer to be yes?

"Rest assured, I was not always so calm. The night it happened I near about lost my mind. I accused them of foul play, and a part of me still does. I suppose that is one of the reasons why I do not trust my own kind, nor want their presence sullying my halls. I was not allowed in the birthing room, it is forbidden for men. They said there was nothing anyone could have done, but I refused to believe that. My naivety back then was astounding." His brow rose and he shook his head, as if he couldn't believe he had ever reacted in such a way. How could he do that? How could he just shake it off and scorn in hindsight? No, she refused to believe he was so numb. He was forcing himself to be, she knew it. She saw the way traveling down memory lane had affected him, saw how distracted and fidgety it made him. He was not numb. This had to be it. This had to have broken him. If it wasn't...if something wasn't broken in him...how could she ever hope to fix it?

"I see...that's horrible. I'm so sorry you went through that. So that's why Roldan can't stand looking at me. He looks at me like I'm stealing something from her. I mean, I am, aren't I? She sounds perfect, there's no way I could ever live up to that." She glared away and fought for her composure. This was Jareth's experience and yet she was the one getting all worked up over it. Why was he being so calm?!

"Sarah, you are not stealing anything from her. Aurelia died nearly five-hundred years ago." Again, Jareth's voice was casual, without even the faintest hint of remorse.

"Yes, five-hundred years and she is still the standard, she is still fresh in Roldan's eyes. Five hundred years and this garden is still kept so perfect, just the way she designed it I bet...When you said the only woman to share your chamber is your wife, you were referring to her weren't you? And so my room...is actually her room...I get it...You must have loved her very much." Her voice was getting flighty, causing Jareth to look over to her. He didn't understand what had made her so agitated. She looked to be in some manner of distress. Was one of Liana's roses nearby? No, he couldn't sense anything...Perhaps there was a deeper reason to her unease.

"Actually, the garden is self-sustaining. I haven't been here in almost 300 years." Sarah peered up. His gaze was on her, but it was gentle. "Second, when I said that, I was referring to you, you're the only woman I've been with in my chambers. In the past, I valued my solitude. Aurelia respected that. I would always come to her, she never came to me."

"So, my room is-"

"Is not the same as hers. She had her own wing on the opposite side of the castle, so that I could be left on my own. That was the place Roldan thought to lead you that day."

"Then why...why is my room right next to yours if you like to be alone? Why is there a shady corridor connecting the two?" she asked. Jareth's expression turned solemn, but she was simply incapable of understanding.

"Maybe it's because I no longer desire to be left alone." She started shaking her head.

"I don't...I don't understand."

"Sarah, it is true that she was all that I asked her to be. She cared for me greatly, and it was said that we were happy together; but understand this, I did not love her."

Jareth, not anticipating Sarah fervor, leaned back when she was suddenly in his face, aghast and vehement. She actually had to hold on to the back of the bench for balance she moved so quickly, stopping herself when they were nose to nose so she could search his eyes for their integrity.

"What? How can you say that? She did everything you wanted. She was perfect, the perfect wife, the perfect Queen, she has to be or Roldan wouldn't hold her in such high regard. She died having your child for God's sake! And you said you were happy. How can you not have loved her?" Sarah's claims were outraged, leaving Jareth all but bemused. Why was she so earnest? What did she have to gain from this? He leaned forward and placed his hands on her shoulders in an effort to sooth, and for the first time all day their proximity affected neither of them.

"Why is this upsetting you? What's wrong?" he asked; but as soon as the words were uttered did Sarah rationalize her outburst and sit back in her seat. She looked away shaking her head.

"Nothing. I just...I just can't see how you couldn't...I mean, from what little you've said, and the way you said it, I can tell she was perfect, and she's nothing like me. She's everything I'm not. She was sophisticated and obedient and wanted to be here with you. After having someone like her, why ever would you possibly want someone like me? If you could have someone else from this world just like her who does what you want them to then why did you choose me? How could I ever meet those standards?" Her pleas became exasperated, to the point where the source of her turmoil became evident. Regardless of whatever jealously may fester, knowing that Jareth had loved someone, anyone at all, would mean that he was plain capable of the emotion. It would mean that he was capable of change. It was hope that one day he would fall in love with her, realize the error of his ways and change into a better person. Him loving Aurelia was hope for her own future. But now, all she was left with was a question. _If you couldn't love someone like her, how can you ever love me?_

And that's when Sarah realized the true depravity of their relationship: she wanted to be loved by him; but more than that, she wanted to save him. She didn't want to go home, she wanted a happily ever after. She wanted her dreams. Even now, after all the horrible things he'd done, after the awfulness she'd put them through, it made her want to save him even more, it made her want to be able to love him even more. She was just as greedy and selfish as he was. It was despicable. But this...this was hopelessness. If he was truly so unaffected by Aurelia and all that happened, then it stood to say that he had always been like this and she had loved him anyway. Aurelia, bless her soul, must have been strong indeed, for Sarah knew she had not the strength to love him as he was. But even more so, she had not the will to be loved by him as he currently was either.

She was distracted with thoughts of future calamity when he started speaking again.

"Sarah...you're still very young, I don't expect you to understand. Aurelia may have been everything that I wanted, but she was nothing that I needed." There was a humbleness to his voice that Sarah was unable to register. In the current whirlwind of her thoughts, his words only jumbled the mix even more.

"What? What does that even mean?" she asked.

"What is perfect for some is imperfect for others."

"Stop being vague. Just tell me, why did you pick me?" She glared up at him, urging him to turn. When he did, she was caught off guard by the lingering sadness she hadn't noticed had been there all along; though strangely, it wasn't rooted in a memory.

"You mean you still don't know?"

"No! You tell me I'm an adequate candidate and that I have a lot of heart and I'm fun to tease but those aren't reasons Jareth. If you can't tell me why you picked me above all others, above someone like Aurelia, then what am I even doing here? Why are you putting me -_us_\- through all this?" The exasperation in her voice had brought her to the point of tears, though she refused to let them break her. Sensing how distressed she truly was, Jareth turned and took hold of the sides of her face with his hands and pulled her in close.

"You're right. Those aren't real reasons, and are in fact irrelevant to me. Is it that you won't believe that I did not love Aurelia? Or that you need to know why? Because the truth is, I couldn't possibly love someone like her, as I am only capable of l-"

"MAJESTY!"

The pivotal moment Jareth had been so carefully maneuvering towards shattered utterly into millions of little pieces with just one word, one gut-wrenching agonizing word. Sarah, anxious and on edge, darted her head over towards the intrusion immediately, leaving Jareth to slowly follow. He glared over with all the fury of Hell in his eyes.

"Uh -scuze me Sire. Master Roldan has important message. Needs to see you at once!" the little Goblin said, standing as tall and firm as it could, though even it could sense the awkwardness it had created. Its eyes darted this way and that, realizing it may have just signed its own death warrant and began looking for any possible escape into the bushes.

Jareth's hands, which had been enveloping Sarah's jaw so tenderly, now curled away with firmly restrained fury. He pulled away from her, forcing himself to do nothing simply for her sake and glared down at the poor creature.

"If this isn't life or death, I'll make it so," he growled, and took the message from its hands. He read it quickly and snarled, causing Sarah to become concerned. "I have to go."

"What?"

"Don't worry. It's nothing. But I have to take care of it. I'll be back shortly. Feel free to go where ever you like." Jareth stood, and tucked the note into a pocket, leaving Sarah to slowly ease back into her right frame of mind. She blinked up at him wondering how he could escape a daze like that so quickly and then looked all around.

"Wait- you mean I can stay out here?" she asked. Jareth sighed. He may not have gotten to make the move he'd wanted, but at least she was no longer upset.

"That was my compromise. You can come out and explore the grounds whenever you like. You don't need my permission. Guards will already be in place so you don't need to worry about being alone...There are always events going on, just ask any of the guards and they'll inform you."

"Um, okay." Her brow started to worry, a little put off that he was leaving so suddenly that he couldn't even finish his sentence. What was he going to say? There were a dozen possibilities floating around in her head, but she refused to believe the most hopeful, and even if it was in fact what she thought it was, in truth, that only made her more terrified.

"Oh, but one thing," he said and pointed past her, "Don't go down that path unless I'm with you, understood?" She looked at the path, then looked at him and nodded, but otherwise couldn't get a word in before both he and the Goblin vanished, leaving her to sit there, alone, stupefied with her own stupidity.

* * *


	75. A Curious State, part 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While unbeknown to her, Sarah has succeeded in obtaining the one thing the Goblin King has desired for hundreds of years -power over the Labyrinth. After being hidden for years from his diabolical wrath, Sarah finds herself alone and vulnerable as Jareth's dark desires are finally aloud to rear their ugly heads. As always, the only question is, are things really as they seem?

It didn't take long for the dazzling oasis of the garden to seem like just another cage as Sarah sat alone on a finely carved bench. She'd been thrown from the midst of a faceless emotion that now left her empty and despondent and couldn't understand why. She and Jareth had almost had a moment, and she was afraid of what that meant, or rather what it could have.

She looked around and wrapped her arms around herself as if it were cold. Jareth, apparently, had taken the heat of the sun along with him. She thought about their walk and of the things she'd acknowledged and couldn't believe it had gone this well. Jareth seemed like a completely different person today, but she knew better than to get too hopeful; this wayward prudence was a result of not knowing what to do and would pass sooner rather than later. His manner was flawed and could not be fixed, even he had said that. She sighed and kicked her feet through the grass; lecturing herself for her constant pessimism. Though then again, when one expects only the worst, they can never be disappointed.

She glanced over to the spot where Jareth once sat. There was so much earnest in his eyes, and she knew what he was about to say. She knew, and she prayed to God in thanks that he hadn't been able to say it. If he had...if he had said those words she was now sure he intended to say, she didn't know what she would do. Actually, that was a lie, she would probably have broken down and cried because all hope would be lost. She acknowledged now what she wanted and what she wanted from him, but she didn't want it now, she wanted the change that would bring it. If he had told her...if he had the gall to dare tell her he loved her...well then there would be nothing left. These past weeks, all the things he'd done. If he claimed to love her already, if that was the way he intended to love her, then she wanted nothing of it. She'd rather he felt nothing for her and have the satisfaction of earning it from each other than be weakly coddled in the moment.

She found herself frowning as she thought this. She was neither ready nor willing to feel for him as strongly as she already did. She needed to cast it aside, to bury it until a time when he deserved it. But could she do that? Could she bar her emotions from herself and still have the things she wanted? Well, she could certainly try.

She trolled around the general vicinity, plaguing herself over what was better for her and what was better for her now. Had they really resolved enough for her to even be considering this kind of thing anyway? It was true that they had more meaningful conversation in this one day than in the entire time they'd known each other, but whenever she tried to imagine the future, it came up blank. As the thoughts began to layer one another, she thought that maybe it would be better to live in the moment instead.

She stopped in front of the path, the one Jareth had very precisely forbade her from, and knew it wasn't sheer coincidence that her feet had placed her there. The longer she paced the more curious she became, until the allure of the path was strong enough to distract her from her troubles. Why didn't he want her going down there? Only that way? Was there something he didn't want her to see? Something about Aurelia? Her thoughts began to ramble with possibilities, though she told herself she would stay put and wait until he got back. But the more she thought about waiting on Jareth's leisure, the more it made her want to take her own action.

She stood in front of the path, staring it down intently. Curiosity had always been a fault of hers, she'd learned that well enough from the first time she'd experienced the Labyrinth. And now was exactly the same; how could he point out something like that and then not expect her to go down it? He was practically setting her up for it! She fantasized that that were the truth, that he had pointed it out to her because he very purposefully wanted her to travel down it without him; but why? But why nothing. That line of thinking was self-serving and silly. It must be something dangerous; but then again, if it were really something she shouldn't be getting in to, wouldn't he have just closed off the path altogether?

More than several minutes had gone by, and Sarah's patience was reaching its end. She peered around, feeling so daring as she made her final decision. There were no guards, no one to stop her, and what real harm could come of it anyway? Sure, Jareth might scold her when he got back, but it was his fault for tempting her like that; she needed a distraction, and given their awkward circumstances, she might be able to get out of a scolding altogether. Her idea of living in the moment couldn't have been more perfectly timed.

"It can't be anything bad. He would make sure I couldn't go if it were...right?"

With a bit of rebellious excitement, she entered the path, eyeing every inch of her surroundings past the threshold as if it were a portal, but nothing had changed. In fact, the more she walked, the less fascinated she became. The number of flowers in this section died down quickly, leaving most of the path empty except of grass. She reached a corner, and around it saw the path open up into a large area filled with trees. She stopped before it all and drew her brow; there didn't seem to be anything special about them. Why wasn't she allowed down here exactly?

She stepped amidst the trees, eyeing them up and down, as each one was different and all were very strange. She saw some that were purple, others blue and gold. There were some that looked similar to apple trees, but their fruit was exotic and unfamiliar to her. At first, she wondered when Jareth would come and yell at her, but as she wandered deeper and deeper into the grove, forgot about everything accept taking another step forward.

Smells of the differing blossoms began to layer and linger in the air, their aroma's thick and poignant. Some of them had sap oozing from their trunks and branches, and the smell from those were indescribable in a very foul way. The trees became smaller as she walked, until the foliage opened up into another clearing, smaller this time. She looked up and could see the castle walls some ways away and wondered how far she had wandered. She looked around and blinked hard repeatedly. Her vision was getting fuzzy and she wasn't sure why. The air became dense with the scent of fruit and blossoms and bark until her chest became heavy with the effort to breathe. She rose a hand to her temple and carried on, not sure why she was still walking. Where was Jareth?

She came to the far end of the clearing and stopped dead. Something...something had told her to stop. She looked up and it was like the trees themselves were pulsating at her. She figured it must be the scent, the blood was rushing to her temples, her sinuses were flaring, but none of that couldn't explain the sudden dryness of her mouth or the overwhelming hunger that twisted her stomach in the most painful of knots. She winced and stepped forward still, staring at the ground until the shadows of leaves danced overhead. She felt soothed by their shade, she felt safe.

She stood straight and looked upwards. She was standing before a mighty tree, not might of its size but of its overwhelming presence. Her eyes roamed up and down, and it became clear that this was the thing that had been calling her near. It's trunk was narrow but its branches stretched far, farther than any of the other trees, and they hung so low that she could reach them with just the tip of a toe. It was black, so dark and uniform that its surface looked painted; but its bark curled and peeled like that of a birch. Its leaves were of a dark red, and when she reached up to touch one, was enamored by the feel of velvet. She stood back, lost in sheer reverence of this dominating figure, and her thoughts were unable to turn from it, from its smell, from its feel. The air hummed with a heat she didn't recognize but had not the capacity to fear, and when she looked up she was consumed with such cravings that her mouth began to water blatantly. Her eyes widened for the fruit hanging from its branches. They were sumptuous and alluring. They looked so soft and tender, their forms rounded and burgeoning with juices and meat. And she was so hungry, so unbelievably hungry. She forgot about everything except how badly she wanted to feel its flesh against her tongue. She could barely breathe; this pulse, it was echoing. She reached up and it fell into her hands.

* * *

The moment Jareth returned to the garden he knew something wasn't right, but was too preoccupied to find any significance. He regretted having to leave Sarah like that, but Roldan's summons really was a bit of an emergency. He'd managed to handle it quickly however, and had returned in what he considered to be a timely fashion. He wasn't quite sure what the mood would be now, but he felt a great deal better about the situation than he had that morning. There were still issues, mounting issues, but right now felt...content. Her demeanor had been more rounded from the beginning than he could have anticipated; and although he was still confused and wary of it, it had made his own struggles that much easier to work through.

He gazed about the garden, searching for her; as for some reason he expected her to still be sitting in the same spot he left her in. He became annoyed then. If that wretched Goblin had waited only ten more seconds... He still couldn't believe how close he'd been, nor the uncanny interruption. He wondered if he would still have a chance once he found her. Oh, how badly he wanted to prove Liana wrong. She thought his feelings for Sarah were holding him back? He'd show her that with them he could progress farther than he had ever planned. He saw the look in her eye, saw how desperate it was. Well, he was getting pretty desperate too.

He started to pace, yes he could locate her with the snap of his fingers if he so wanted, but he didn't mind the leisure that came with finding her the old fashioned way. _Now, where could she have gone..._He'd only taken a couple steps when something strange began to slowly swelter in the air. He stopped and drew his brow. That smell. It was...

He looked over and saw the path from where the aura was emanating and his expression fell. He passed through the gate, paying attention to the imprints in the grass and the strength of the scent. For a moment, he refused to believe that she had come this way. The fact that she ignored his command came as no surprise, but he knew for a fact that this path would not allow for human access. It had been charmed long ago to prevent such things, it was far too dangerous. How then did she enter?

That's when he cringed, realizing the stupidity of his ways. He was in such a rush to leave and therefore come back, that he had overlooked the fact that Sarah's dormant power might have a rather inconvenient affect on things. Stupid. Stupid! If the path had unlocked because of the Labyrinth's hold, then it was no wonder why she had ventured inside. He knew her to be curious by nature, and the forces beyond the path yearned for such ignorance. His presence was enough to mask their calling, but left alone and undistracted they would have the power to draw her in, whether she realized it or not. He shouldn't have left her alone, or better yet, he should have spared the time to explain why he was warning her.

He began to walk more briskly, her scent was certainly strong enough, she couldn't be much farther ahead. As he looked about, he prayed one of the lesser trees had caught her attention, though in the back of his mind he knew which was the true culprit, and feared for the eminent future. Anything, please be anything other than that!

He fisted his hands and snarled, angry that the entire day's progress may go up in flames in only another moment or two. He tried to analyze her scent; her pheromones were all over the place, wielding every emotion possible. That wasn't good. That wasn't good at all. How bad could it be? He'd only been gone no more than twenty minutes!

He reached the inner circle of the small forest and even he was affected by the laden sent of magic in the air. He hadn't been here in so long, if it were having even a weak effect on him, he couldn't imagine what it had done to Sarah. He entered the clearing and looked up, then stopped dead. He saw her standing across from him, no more than twenty feet. Her back was to him, and the rigidness of her stance worried him. He looked past her and saw the tree which she waited under and again his nerves twisted. She wasn't moving, not a single hair. Maybe the scent was too strong? Maybe it had rendered her immobile? Hopefully that were the case. Gods, if she had eaten one of the fruit...

He stepped towards her, remaining as calm and appeasing as he could. He was wary, though made no effort to mask his approach. In the worst case scenario, she would be as rabid as a wild animal; it would be best not to startle her.

"...Sarah?" he called to her. The breeze gently swayed the skirt of her dress, but otherwise the scene remained frozen. He eyed her carefully, then took another step closer. "I thought I asked you not to come down here alone?" he said.

Sarah twitched, as if she'd been in default mode all this time. She blinked repeatedly until her vision cleared and saw the trunk of the tree standing before her. She opened her mouth to breathe and ran her tongue along her palate. It was so thick. Everything was so thick...

She turned around and their eyes met with a spark.

Jareth's body noticeably tensed, his expression caught somewhere between anger and horror. He stared her down fiercely, not taking his eyes from hers.

Her eyes were opened wide, wide enough to cause a visible strain, though she felt none of it, and her pupils were constricted to the size of pin heads. There was a tension coursing through her, making her breathing come in tremors. A viscous fluid oozed from her mouth, so dark and red it could have been mistaken for blood, which was smeared all around her mouth and dripped down the front and sides of her neck. She continued to chew, and with each clench of her jaw secreted more juices to stream, so much that it had pooled in the well of her cleavage and stained the whiteness of her dress as it made its way down her front. She began to breathe more heavily the moment she registered it was him and her hand clenched, her slight fingers sinking deeper into the flesh of the fruit which she still held.

Jareth swallowed and steeled himself. He could not show any falter lest he disrupt this moment of balance. The effects of Monoma on mortals were unpredictable, though they always centered around the person's most base emotions. He prayed, foolishly, that she had been truthful when she said she felt no anger...

Sarah didn't respond but simply approached him. Her eyes were so wide, yet everything was a blur. All she could see was what was directly in front of her: Jareth. She opened her mouth wider and licked her lips, but the juices that stained her lips failed to quench the unbearable thirst which was slowly returning. She stopped before him and looked down at her hand as it squeezed the life out of what was left of the fruit, its bloody juices seeping around her hand and down her arm, then looked back to him. He looked so rigid. So Fierce. Why...why was she still so hungry?

She struggled with words. It was as if she'd forgotten how...

"...I want more," she said after some difficult mumbling, and stared deep into his eyes. It was strange...she didn't see anything.

Jareth tried to keep his aura mellow, but it was near impossible. He needed to get her inside and secure as soon as possible; but simply dragging her away wouldn't be so easy...

"I think you've had plenty," he said and offered her a hand. "Why don't we go inside so you can clean up? There'll be more for you there." If she came with him willingly, all might be well. He could seal her until the effects wore off. She hadn't outright attacked him as he'd feared, that could only be a good thing.

Sarah was silent, and cocked her head to look at him sideways as if regarding a strange creature. She un-clawed her hand and the messy carcass of the fruit fell to the ground. She rose her hand and stared at the gel-like substance that clung to her skin and made her fingers stick together. It was hard for him not to flinch when she then reached up and pressed the tips of those fingers against his lips. He scowled, but remained still. It wasn't that he was afraid she might hurt him if she went manic, but if she did fall into a fit there was a chance she could hurt herself in the process. And so he tried to appease her until he could get her inside and away from all this magic. She tapped her fingers against his lips and then pressed the back of her hand to smear the juices across his own face. He scowled harder still, unsure of her actions. Her eyes flickered up and down his face, as if inspecting her handiwork; then she pressed her hands against his chest and rose to her toes. She brought her lips close to his and ran the tip of her tongue along his cheek to the crease of his lips.

"I said..._I want more_," she whispered, and kissed him softly.

Jareth froze, utterly, as if he were being molested by a lion. Her hands turned into fists at his collar, using him as a prop to hold herself up as she kissed him again. He tried to remain unresponsive; from the way her tongue moved, it seemed she were merely lapping the juice from his face rather than actually kissing him; but regardless, this was not the proper circumstance. For not knowing what to expect, this was something he for sure did not. The fruit of the Monoma Tree amplified the urge for one's deepest desire. With everything that was going on between them, he was sure that manifest would have been something very grave; and yet she was kissing him. Something about this situation seemed very out of place.

She became more forceful in her efforts, even closing her eyes and pushing her tongue between his lips trying to gain access, but he kept his jaw firmly closed. She pulled away and frowned as she tilted her head again.

"What's the matter? Do you not want me anymore? Am I too dirty for you?" She spoke so sweet and with such innocence that he couldn't help but frown in return. No matter how much he wanted to believe her advances were real...they never were. He brought his hands to her shoulders and gently squeezed.

"You're not dirty at all. Come, we can talk inside," he urged. He thought about teleporting them both inside, but an action so sudden might make her panic and send her over the edge. He'd rather avoid that risk as much as possible. He lightly tugged but she held her ground.

"But I am dirty. I'm filthy in fact. See?" She rose her hand and smeared the tacky serum across her cheek and stared up at him like a child who didn't know any better. Jareth's scowl intensified; the slime of the fruit was starting to dry on his face and chest, though he tried not to let it bother him. "You're dirty too," she pointed out.

"Alright, why don't we go clean ourselves up then?" He took half a step back when she stepped forward; the starved look had randomly returned to her eye, letting him know that she hadn't heard a single word he'd said. But she couldn't help it, the more she tried to focus the hungrier she became. She stood up on her toes once more.

"But..._it tastes so good_..." And she kissed him again, only this time he was unprepared to shield it. She closed her eyes, the softness of her lips molding to his, her light breath humming against his skin. She rose her hands to the back of his head and licked away the remainder of the juice. "_Doesn't it taste good?_" Her lashes fluttered with a slow wantonness, the likes of which Jareth had never seen in her before. He swallowed hard and tried to remain on task. She didn't give him time to compose himself however and kissed him even harder. Her fingers wove into his hair and she held their faces together as she whimpered softly.

That sound. That soft, muffled, beautiful sound. He couldn't help but part his lips for her and give her what she wanted. Their tongues met, and he closed his eyes and leaned into her. For him, this moment was of brief sublime. After all those days of wondering how and why and dreading whatever those answers might be...After spending all that time alone away from her not knowing what to do, with only one thought of what he wanted to do...and it was this. Oh, how he wished it could be so easy, so easy to just apologize and make up, to hold her and kiss her the very way he was now. But it could never be. It could never be so easy. He knew that. Just as he knew that this moment wasn't real. It was never real; but for now...he pretended all the same. He brought a hand to her jaw and pulled away, his stern awareness fading.

"We should go inside," he insisted.

"Why?"

"Because this isn't what you want." If this were happening but one week ago, he would have reacted quite oppositely, but right now was crucial to their future. He knew now, he knew how serious things really were, and no matter how easy it would be to take advantage of this very situation, surprisingly, he found that he would not be able to stand himself if he did so. He was getting tired of all their moments being contrived. For one single time he wanted her touch and her taste to be genuine; and even though it was true that the effects of the drug manifested desires that were already there, this just wasn't the same.

Sarah looked at him strangely, before dismissing him completely and pulling him back down to her.

"What do you know of my desires?" she asked, and kissed him fiercely with a hot open mouth. Her arms constricted around his neck, impairing him from pulling away, and forced their mouths to twine; and no matter how much Jareth wanted to back away, there was a sweetness to her ardor that was simply inescapable.

He felt his fears and his desires flare together in a tryst of insecurity, and in that brief moment of weakness closed his eyes and let her have him.

His arms went around her and a hand knotted in her hair, leaning down as she pulled herself up into him; she panted through her kisses like she were starved for them; all the while Jareth sank lower and lower into the wallow of his woes, torturing himself with the knowledge that this was just another veneer, one that once faded would give way to even bigger issues between them. But this contention only made him hold onto her tighter, refusing to let this moment go. She may hate him for it later, but he needed this kiss. He needed it to keep on pretending.

They stood in tight embrace for a few moments, just long enough for Jareth to feel his head growing fuzzy. The juices in Sarah's mouth were being transferred to him, and though it wasn't much, it was certainly enough. He pulled back then; as a Fae, the effects of magical fruit were not as strong on him as they were Sarah, but they did have an affect all the same. It was then that he was reminded to remain in control of the situation. A kiss was one thing, but if he lost his head and did something...he knew she would never forgive him. The aromas of the trees around them began to grow thicker, feeding off their energy.

"Sarah...come. This isn't the place. You don't want to-"

"Shh...just stop talking."

Her hands caressed his cheeks, and she stared at him so sweetly. Her face was smeared with sticky juice and seeds, it was a disheveled mess and yet to him she shone like an angel. He started blinking hard then. It must be the fruit. The air about her was starting to vibrate. But the cause was irrelevant to the fact that the more he stared at her lips the more his mouth started to water.

"I think I know that look in your eye. You want more too, don't you?" she asked and nipped along his neck. Jareth screwed his eyes shut and tried to focus. His will was at ends with itself. On the one end, every touch was like a hint of the desperate haven he craved, and yet each time she touched him, all he could think of was the last time she had touched him, the last time she had said those words, and of how eerily similar these two moments were. He had to open his eyes, as images of that wretched chair and those awful floorboards had begun to taunt him. No. He would not let that happen again. For a second time Sarah was not in her right mind; the only time she came to him was when she was not in control of her own self... He couldn't take it anymore. Now disgusted, he tore himself away from her.

"No, I don't. But if you want to continue this, we have to go inside. Come with me."

"Why do I need to go somewhere to be with you, when we're together already?" She fisted her hands in his collar and shoved him until he stumbled back and fell to the ground. She wasted no time, crawling up his front and devouring him with mad kisses once again, and for all of the dozens of tiny voices screaming for him to get up and put an end to this before he fell prey to the drug as well, he wondered why he had yet to take heed. It was happening again, just like before; the assertiveness of her desire had smote him pitifully, did he still not have the power to control himself? Had he really learned nothing? But no, no he had learned, and if this were the same he knew he could stop. But it wasn't. This was different because, unlike before, Jareth was imbibing a rampaging amount of the most passionate exuberant pheromones he'd ever sensed. It would be hard to turn away from that even without the hinderance of the Monoma fruit in his system. That was the power she had over him, power that he had never experienced before, power that she was wielding all too well. Another moment of weakness hit him, one that proved almost dire. He wrapped his arms around her and held her flat against his body. Her breath was hot and her lips swollen, the skin of their cheeks stuck to one another from the lingering juices of the fruit, but it only made the moment more heated.

He rolled them so it was she who was on her back, needing the distinction to separate now from that awful incident, but it refused to leave. His conscience, still badgering him to cease, now utilized that memory as incentive, and he knew...he knew this needed to stop.

Sarah's hands moved lower, feeling down his chest and began working at the belt on his pants. The moment he felt her hands tug at the buckle was like a trigger, the one his conscience had been so direly searching for. He rolled them over once again and sat up so they were sitting nose to nose. A kiss was one thing...getting worked up was another...but it couldn't go any farther than this. He put his hands on her shoulder and stared her weakly in the eye. He was starting to get a serious buzz from the fruit, he only hoped she would be calming down soon.

"Sarah. This needs to stop." She ignored him and went back in, but he caught her and held her a good distance away. "No."

She stared at him for a moment, testing his conviction. When she tried to move again, he held her in place. Her eyes narrowed then, dangerously.

"No?"

She spoke as if the word were foreign to her. Jareth did his best to remain composed. She turned her head and gave him an eye.

"Did you just say _no_ to me?" she asked. Jareth took a deep breath.

"This cannot continue," he said. Sarah's back straightened, and she swatted his hands away from her shoulders.

"You're refusing me?"

Again, her voice held a preposterous tone, as if his decision were some audacious feat. Her features hardened into a look of sheer contempt, and she reached out and pushed him back down.

"How dare you refuse me!"

He saw the violence coming a mile away and pushed forward, forcing them both to stagger to theirfeet. She stood hunched over, with a look of awful disbelief wrought across her face. Jareth prepared for the worst. "How dare you!" she screamed, pointing a nasty finger at him. "After everything you've done, YOU DON'T GET TO TELL ME NO!" She flailed her fists at him, but he caught them mid-air and held her straight. She snarled and started thrashing against him viciously. "You son of a fucking bitch! All this time, everything you've done to me and you have the gall to tell ME NO? After taking and taking and taking you have the audacity to refuse me the one thing that I want from you?! URAGHH! I hate you! I hate you! IhateyouIhateyouIhateyou!" She shrieked and flailed her entire body, her only intent to deal him as many blows as she could, to hell with escaping. She moved so erratically that it was difficult for him to control her, and her movements held such force that he feared she might pull her arms out of socket or snap her own neck for that matter. Ignoring her words, as brutally honest as they were, he wrapped her arms around herself and constricted her in a vice-like embrace, but she refused to calm down. He knew better than to speak, anything he said from this point on would only enrage her further. She continued to scream, scream awful things to him, things that he knew had been lurking under the surface of their "pleasant day" all this time, and it was torture to hear them, but he listened all the same. "Do you have any idea what you've done to me? Do you have any idea how much you've broken me? How awful I feel because of how awful you've made me?! What happened to my happily ever after? What happened to you Jareth? What the fuck is happening to me?! Why? Why Why Why! LET GO OF ME JARETHHH! Just let go! Please. Please. Just let me go..."

After a few moments, her thrashing started to die down, her words became winded, and it was clear to Jareth that she was exhausting herself. He let out a sigh of relief when she went limp in his arms, passing out from the sheer exertion. He sank to the ground with her, holding her like he'd been wanting to for the past three days, cursing himself and pretending that it would be alright.

  



	76. A Curious State, part 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While unbeknown to her, Sarah has succeeded in obtaining the one thing the Goblin King has desired for hundreds of years -power over the Labyrinth. After being hidden for years from his diabolical wrath, Sarah finds herself alone and vulnerable as Jareth's dark desires are finally aloud to rear their ugly heads. As always, the only question is, are things really as they seem?

When Sarah awoke she found that she was surrounded by darkness. The air was humid, and there was a pressure in her ears that made the space around her echo. She tried to open her eyes, but her muscles had never felt so worn. She tried to move, but it only made her dizzy. She took a few moments to relax and let herself wake up, but it didn't help. She managed to turn her head, and her neck cracked, revealing how stiff and tense she was. She scowled and tried to open her eyes again, and was frightened at how long it took for her vision to clear. Slowly, the migraine started to hit, and the moment it did did she missed the numbness of sleep. She started blinking; the room -whatever room she was in- was dark. She gained more control over her body, and subtle sounds began to reveal themselves: a steady drip, a random scrape against stone, a muted rumble. What were these sounds? Where was she? She tried to think back, but everything was fuzzy.

She was confused to realize that she was standing up, and when she went to flex her arms, became frightened again to find that her shoulders had gone completely numb. She swayed her body and the sound of chains clanking resonated through her clouded ears. _What? I'm...I'm in chains?_ Her scowl stayed low as she tried to focus on her surroundings. She saw the stone of the floor and a soft light reflecting from a torch on the wall. She rose her head a little and saw the silhouette of bars on the door. _I'm...I'm in the...dungeons?_

"Are you finally awake?" She blinked a couple times and looked up. That voice sounded like Jareth. What the hell was going on? She couldn't see him right away, not because he was hidden, but because she had expected him to be standing. She looked over and saw he was sitting against a wall. His head was leaned back and his eyes were closed and he breathed heavily. Actually, he looked just as exhausted as she was. He was a mess, his clothes were out of sorts and covered in blood. Wait- What?! Blood?

"What? Jareth? What happened? Are you okay?" she asked, but the slight up in adrenaline only made her headache pound harder. She winced and looked away.

"I take it you've calmed down then?" he asked, but she was only able to give him a confused glance in response. She was so tired and congested. What the hell had happened? After a moment of repose, she tried to move again.

"Calmed down? What are you talking about? Why am I chained up?" She saw Jareth smile in the darkness, but it was an incredulous one. He still hadn't answered why there was blood all over his face and torso.

"Your head is still fuzzy, isn't it? Don't worry, it'll come back to you soon enough." She scowled again, trying to remember what the hell could have happened. The last thing she remembered was waiting for him in the garden...

"Why are you covered in blood? Are you hurt?" Jareth took a deep breath. He seemed to be under some kind of physical stress, but she couldn't remember what or why.

"It's not blood," he said, and that was all.

"Why am I in chains?" she asked, which was perhaps the more pertinent question here.

"For your protection."

"Protection? ...Protection from what?"

"Yourself."

"What? Why would I-" and then it clicked. She thought back, and this time the memories came clearer. She remembered the path, and that tree. God, that tree. She remembered...feeling more hungry than ever before. And then Jareth came...and then...and then... _Oh_. Oh, shit. She was suddenly glad for the darkness, for it allowed her to blush with embarrassment in secret. Her eyes became wide and for a split moment her headache was irrelevant. She stared over at Jareth, remembering how exactly he had come to be in such a condition.

"Do you remember now?" he asked. Sarah remained blanched. She could remember most of what happened, including her manic freak out, but anything after that was gone. She swallowed hard and tried to look over herself. She couldn't see much, but the red stains in her bosom stood out clear as day. She bit her lip in worry.

"Um...yeah."

"And how do you feel?" he asked. She bit her lip harder.

"...Ridiculous. And...embarrassed," she said, and just like that the chains released and she fell to the floor. She landed awkwardly, her numb arms serving as no means of balance for her already flimsy body. Her head felt dizzy again, so she stayed put until her equilibrium came back. "Jareth?...What happened after...after I..."

"You had a fit and tried to attack me, though you passed out from the exertion. I feared that when you woke up you might try to harm yourself. So I restrained you here." His words made her scowl, nothing about this situation was making very much sense right now, but she didn't have the cognition to react properly.

"Why couldn't you have restrained me in my bed?" she asked, annoyed to be in such a filthy room with arms that still felt like jello. Jareth took another deep breath, and she began to seriously wonder what his problem was.

"I tried that, but you kept waking up and going berserk. You could hear your screams halfway across the castle. I think it goes without saying that the dungeons are soundproof." Sarah looked to the floor, unable to comprehend everything that had happened. They'd been at such a good place. Why...why did that have to happen?

"Jareth, I- I don't know what happened, why I would..."

"It was the tree," he said. She peered up to him, but he still kept his eyes closed.

"The tree? You mean..."

"I told you not to go down that path, remember?" It felt like he was trying to scold her, but didn't have the energy. The feeling was starting to come back to her arms, so she inched forward a little bit.

"I know...I just...I didn't think it would be anything that bad. It was stupid. I'm sorry." There was a glimmer of fang in the darkness as another dubious smirk flashed across his face.

"It's not your fault. That section of the garden is made up of magical things, plants used in spells and charms. I was in such a hurry, I forgot what kind of allure it might have on you when left alone."

"Oh...I see...Jareth? Why does my body hurt like this?" she asked, her headache was excruciating and her muscles were painfully tight. She wanted to lay down, but the grime of the floor was off-putting.

"The fruit you ate takes a serious physical toll on the body. In fact, I'm surprised you're as cognizant as you are."

"How long have I been hanging here?"

"About six hours."

"Ah." She wanted to say how six hours of sleep had felt like six minutes, but ironically she was too tired to do so. She inched her way across the floor to sit beside him, mimicking his posture. She didn't know why, but she was more comfortable there. She was so so tired, she could just fall asleep in this very spot, right beside him..."Jareth?" she murmured.

"Hm?"

"Those things I did and said...I'm sorry. I didn't...I didn't mean it." Jareth peered over to her then, but she didn't see.

"Yes you did. You shouldn't apologize for it. No matter how unpleasant, I value honesty." Sarah closed her eyes and took slow deep breaths, secretly thinking it rather hypocritical of him to make such a statement.

"That tree...so it makes you go lust crazy? Is it some kind of magical aphrodisiac?" she asked. Jareth smiled again, in spite of himself, and even snickered. Sarah glanced over, confused by his reaction. His eyes had opened, but he stared at the ceiling.

"Not quite. While it is true that the fruit of the Monoma tree is often used as an aphrodisiac, sexual prowess is not its function."

"What?" she asked.

"It has a nickname in this world, as the Di of Passion. It takes a person's most deeply rooted desire and makes it manifest. This doesn't always have to be sexual." Sarah thought for a moment, thought really hard, but it was a moment or two before she understood the subtext of Jareth's words. She looked over to him, full of tentative worry and shame.

"So...you thought..."

"That your most deep rooted emotions were your resentment of me, and that your strongest desire would be for my demise? Yes," he said, then rolled his head towards her and met her in the eye with the faded glory of a scandalous grin. "But that's not what happened, is it?" There were equal amounts of exhaustion and dangerous mischief in his eyes, which made for a strange combination against the weak tone of his sarcasm. Sarah gaped at him a bit, not knowing how to respond nor having the capability to do so properly. A part of her regretted scooting over to sit so close to him.

"So...what you're saying is.." He cut her off by leaning forward and resting his face in the hair that draped over her neck. She sat more rigidly.

"Mhm..." he murmured. She gulped. "It's unbelievable really," he said.

"What is?"

"After everything that's happened..._you still want me_." She caught a hint of incredulous satisfaction as he said that, but had not the energy to fight it.

"You just said it manifests your deepest desires. Didn't I also freak out and try to kill you too?" Jareth leaned up and leaned his head back against the wall.

"Yes, you certainly did." She was surprised when that was all he had to say.

"I thought you'd be gloating more," she said. Jareth cracked a smile.

"Me too. Though the truth is, I just don't care anymore." She glanced over at how winded he sounded and saw he himself was on the brink of passing out.

"What's wrong with you?" she asked.

"You're not the only one who had a taste of the Monoma, remember?" He threw her an eye, but she was slow on the uptake. She furrowed her brow, confused.

"But...you didn't...you didn't succumb...you made it stop, didn't you? And you're a Fae. It shouldn't affect you like it did me, right?" She was spitballing it here, but she briefly recalled a conversation with Roldan about enchanted plants and their effects on different species...According to that, Jareth should have been fine. And yet...here he was.

"That's true. It doesn't affect me as intensely as it does you. However, there is a balance. While it doesn't affect me as severely, those effects in turn last a great deal longer." His explanation had her suddenly worried. She glossed her eyes over him in reevaluation.

"Wait. So...all this time you've-"

"Been restraining myself from ravaging you to pieces? Yes." He looked over slightly and met her gaze out of the corner of his eye. The connection was a profound one, but was masked by their equal exhaustion.

"Oh...I see. If it's that bad...why stay in the same cell as me?" she asked. She thought about moving away from him in case her proximity was tempting, but in truth she felt perfectly safe just where she was. It was strange. In fact, this entire moment was strange... Jareth shifted against the wall.

"I wanted to know you were okay. And I wanted to be there when you woke up, in case you were disoriented and panicked. You needn't be afraid, I've controlled myself thus far, and the worst has passed. If I thought there were really a danger I would have removed myself from you." He was surprised when he felt her head lean against his shoulder and looked down at her. Her hair was covering most of her face, but he could tell her eyes were closed.

"It's okay...I can't quite believe it, but I think I trust you...for now." Her words came out as mumbles, letting him know she was on the verge of sleep. He closed his eyes and sagged against the wall; this was certainly not how he thought this day would go. Though he tried to stay awake and cherish the sweetness of her words and the way she leaned against him, he felt sleep fall over him too and there was no helping it.

* * *


	77. A Curious State, part 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While unbeknown to her, Sarah has succeeded in obtaining the one thing the Goblin King has desired for hundreds of years -power over the Labyrinth. After being hidden for years from his diabolical wrath, Sarah finds herself alone and vulnerable as Jareth's dark desires are finally aloud to rear their ugly heads. As always, the only question is, are things really as they seem?

When they awoke, neither knew what time or day it was, but their heads were still too cloudy to wonder. Sarah was the first to open her eyes, and was relieved to find her headache had faded and her muscles more at ease. She peered up and saw Jareth's head had turned towards her in his sleep. She was still pressed against his shoulder; they were sitting so close...she'd never realized how pretty the markings around his eyes really were. She watched as his eyes slowly opened, the first things they saw being hers staring back. The moment was silent and surprisingly removed. His half-cast gaze, still laden with remnants of fatigue, flickered to her mouth and back again, and without any hesitation at all, lowered himself just a fraction of an inch and connected his lips to hers.

The moment was so unbidden it was almost dreamlike, as if conscience had resigned itself to pure consciousness. He closed his eyes and pressed harder; and because the moment was so innocent, because there wasn't a single care otherwise, she didn't even need to put forth an effort to close her own eyes and kiss him in return. Their lips parted and their tongues met slow and gently. They were both still so tired, there just wasn't enough room for all the bullshit. Slowly, he rose a hand to her cheek and held her, his fingers inching into her hair as his kiss deepened. She relaxed into him and let the moment happen, because for once it was so easy not to fight him. He turned his body towards her and leaned forward, and she rose a hand to his wrist to help maintain her balance. After a moment he leaned farther still, until she was slowly inching onto her back.

"Jareth..." she brought a hand to his shoulder and murmured his name in a weak plea that they should slow down, but he wasn't listening.

He kissed her deeply with slow sensual licks and tender nips. An arm went around her back and hoisted her away from the wall, and he gently laid himself over her. His actions weren't forceful, but there was clear intention. She pushed against him a little harder.

"Jareth. Hold on a minute." Again he ignored her, and she was worried that perhaps the effects of the Monoma hadn't totally worn off. He'd said he was in control of it... He continued to kiss her, and she continued to kiss back, but still she protested. "Jareth, stop." He pulled back and looked into her eyes.

"Why?" he asked, with such heartfelt sincerity. He combed a tender hand through her hair and waited,

but she couldn't come up with an answer. "Why should _we_ stop?" He put an emphasis on the "we" and again she was dumb.

"B-because."

"That's not a reason," he said and took her lips again, the hand in her hair moved to her jaw and held her more securely. The weight of his body began to press against her and she felt her arms moving around his back...

"Jareth- please," she said, but her words only seemed to make him more impatient. His kisses became more forceful, his grip on her body more intense, and she kissed him just as raggedly, her hands pulling at the back of his shirt. It was just too easy not to stop.

He started to press his hips against her, and she moved with him, the two slowly inching away from the wall. A dangerous passion was forming a mind of its own. His hands ran down her arms and over her sides, his kisses traveled to her jaw and neck, but still Sarah's voice wouldn't let it be.

"Jareth-"

"Why?!"

The sudden interruption of his voice caught her off guard. It was loud and jaded, his once present languor now lost. She looked into his eyes and froze. "Give me one reason why we can't be together and I will remove myself here and now." His eyes on her were intense and angry, leaving her to gape like a hapless child. It was then that she felt pity towards him, for both he and herself, because she knew that for all her quibbling protests she couldn't find a reason. Because she was afraid? Because she wasn't ready? Because it felt wrong? Why was it now so hard to find her voice? She glanced away and bit her lip.

"It's just..."

"Just what?" He commanded back her attention, turning her face in his hands and everything. But when he saw the flighty look in her eye, he sighed. He knew she was frightened and unsure, but the exasperation of the day was starting to get to him, and he could feel it unraveling his resolve bit by bit. He closed his eyes and forcibly pressed his forehead to hers to compose himself. "_I know_ that you want me...And I want you more than anything I have ever wanted in my entire life. So tell me, why should we not have the things we crave? The things that will make us happy?" He brought his eyes back to hers. "I know that there are issues, but why not give ourselves a moment of reprieve? Why not satisfy our own needs with those of the other? Look at me and tell me you don't want me. Look at me and tell me that after everything there isn't some part of you that still feels doubt." Sarah's eyes grew wide, reflecting the sheer desperation in his own. She couldn't tell if it was the fruit or not, but she knew there was truth to the passion in his eyes. She'd never seen him like this. Not ever.

"Jareth, I- it's just.._.*sigh*..._"

"You can't. I know you can't." He started shaking his head and, with both hands holding her jaw, crashed their faces together. He engulfed her in his arms and pressed her harder and harder into the slick stone floor. She said no words, for it was true that she found none to say, but instead started instinctually pushing against his chest in an effort to stave him. It mattered not, her attempt was weak, even for her. He knew she would not say it, by her very nature she would fight him tooth and nail, but she would not say the words, and that was all the motivation he needed.

Things became heated quickly. She would groan and whimper between kisses, struggling with all her worn-out might to get him off of her, but now he was determined, stopping him wouldn't be so easy.

"_Urgh_, Jareth-" She gave one final push, but was surprised when he rose away from her. She fixed her eyes on him, intimidated by his vehemence.

"No!" he growled, the one word echoing throughout the room. He was angry now, very angry, but she didn't fully understand. He had so much energy all of the sudden; where did it all come from? She gaped up hopelessly at his fiery stare. "No. I'm sick of this. We both know the truth and yet we torture ourselves with false precedents. Well no more! I'm done with this stupid game. You think I haven't been taking you seriously? Well, know what it's like to have my full attention."

He grabbed her wrists and slammed them to the floor on either side of her face and she struggled weakly to escape it. When he released her hands, familiar cuffs had taken his place. He grabbed her face and kissed her, her mouth, her cheeks, her jaw, her neck, everywhere; and she pulled and pulled against the restraints, and yet the rest of her body was completely still.

"Say it. Say the words, I beg you," he pleaded into her neck, his hands tightening in her hair out of sheer frustration. Everything was culminating to this one point, he just couldn't hold back any longer. His inhibitions were already weakened, letting his emotions get the better of him. Sarah didn't know how to react. "If you can't say it or if you won't, then keep fighting me. Keep fighting me so I can stop you. But know that if you don't then neither will I." His hands moved lower and groped around her thighs, raggedly yanking up the hem of her dress. She squeezed her thighs around his hips, but was left begrudgingly aware that she was the one who had kept her legs open for him in the first place. His hand clawed at her inner thigh, all the while he begged her to tell him no, that she did not want him. She whimpered and whined and groaned in frustration, but those words never came. She felt his hand leave her and in a moment of clarity opened her mouth to speak.

"Jareth-"

The next sound to escape her was a moan, a surprised, confused, unwitting moan. Jareth, not waiting for her to finish her thought, thrust into her the moment he'd unknotted his pants. His returning groan was visceral, and the combined sound resonated throughout the dungeon. Sarah laid absolutely motionless, abashed by the moment. Jareth cupped her jaw and brought his face close to hers. His eyes were closed, and he started to move...

Her mouth dropped open and she stared straight at the ceiling.

"Tell me that this doesn't feel more right than wrong. Tell me how much of a monster I am and how much you hate me for it. Please. If you don't, I will not stop."

Sarah jerked against her restraints and she started to pant, the sound of her breathing growing higher in pitch. Her continued silence only pushed Jareth on, giving up to willingly lose himself. He held onto her with all his might and thrust into her harder. She started to moan in spite of herself, each muffled sound driving him further and further. He placed a hand on her hip to hold her down so he could enter as deeply as he could and savior the feel of her. She was so warm and soft, so tender and responsive. It was so unlike before. She was dripping wet well before he entered her, making the moment of contact one of pure unbridled rhapsody. Though she pulled at her shackles, her body was open and welcoming for him. The room buzzed with the combined scent of their passion, and he only wished she had the ability to sense it as well. It was intoxicating. It was real. He kissed her neck and her jaw, making his way back to her mouth. Their relationship had taken so many drastic turns over the past week, so many during this one day alone; but he didn't care, it was worth it. It was worth it be here like this now, losing everything in this one moment. Her back arched for him and she squirmed to accommodate his presence filling her up. The intrusion was so unexpected, so genially unexpected.

He could feel her body stretching with each thrust and feel it yearning for more each time he pulled back. Sarah's moans grew louder, her fervor feeding off their own echoes. This moment was like nothing she had ever expected. She thought she would be fighting him, she thought she wouldn't be ready, and yet this feeling inside of her, the feeling of the way he moved and the things he did, it was more pleasure than she had ever imagined. How she could be like this with him she didn't understand, but right now the reasons seemed irrelevant. She rolled her head back and pulled at her cuffs, no longer certain whether she was fighting to escape or to grab ahold of him.

He kissed his way down her exposed neck and hooked his hips into her sharply, and moaned into her cleavage. The residual juice flaking from her skin made her taste both sour and sweet, and he sucked until there was nothing left. The sounds of their craven grew louder until they were shameless, leaving any nearby Goblins to wonder what in the world was going on down the hall.

As Sarah's body convulsed beneath him, she began to grow heated through her gown. Sweat began to glaze her forehead and the insides of her thighs, but no matter how she moved she couldn't escape the heat. Her chest heaved as the heat turned to a different sort of sensation. She couldn't describe it, but the pressure of his lips on her sternum made it hard to breathe. Was this really happening?

Jareth felt her body start to tremble and the way her thighs squeezed against his hips and pushed himself even harder, to the point where she could hear his boots scraping against the stone floor as he plunged deeper and deeper. Every little observation became carnal, the sound of them scraping against the floor, the feel of the ends of his hair cold and wet with sweat against her neck, the heat of their breath suffocating one another, everything was so acute. Sarah had never thought it would be so wonderful. And all this, all this satisfaction was happening so soon after that night...the contrast was uncanny, but it didn't change the present. Had he forced her into this? Was it all the fault of spontaneity? Was it too sudden for her to consent? Or was he just as lost as she was, searching desperately for the same way out... She closed her eyes and moaned, there was so much happening and so many things on her mind, she wasn't sure what to focus on, the only things of clarity were how good the vibration of his groans felt against her skin and how wonderfully constricting was the pressure in her groin.

His hand moved to knot in her hair while the other pinned her hip at an angle, and the sensation from that heightened immensely. She could feel him moving in and out so rhythmically, stretching her and letting her go; it was so much different than when she had done it and she never thought she could enjoy such an experience after it, but in all truth, the horror of that night was the furthest thing from her mind.

She became more aware of the rawness of his moans and used them to fuel her own not-so-secret passion. Her chest rose, her body tensed, and she felt something she wasn't sure she'd felt before. It was a feeling so strong and so sudden it left her paralyzed. But then she began to recognize it; she knew this feeling, but not like this, not ever. Jareth felt her insides constrict around him and groaned loudly in the back of his throat, clenching his eyes closed to focus on holding out for just a moment longer. Sarah's body bowed and she let out a shriek higher than anything she knew she was capable of and was followed by the most wonton and euphoric of moans ever to grace Jareth's ears. She began to convulse and squirm beneath him; the pleasure was too intense, but Jareth held her in place, forcing to her take and feel every sensation in its entirety. She continued to shriek and pull viciously at her restraints, having never before experienced an orgasm so powerful. It was like all the stress, all the pent up emotion and frustration over the past three days had been released in one profound moment of eruption.

Jareth swore through his teeth, and continued to in languages foreign to her as he pressed through the intense episode of her release, but no amount of control could help him. His fist tightened in her hair until she cried out from that instead and he buried his face in her neck. The fingers of his other hand dug like claws into her hip, holding her perfectly immobile as he came violently. His final moans were choked and coughed, contrasting to Sarah's exquisite screams, until both parties were left exhausted and spent. Their breath fed heavily into one another, their chests meeting with each expand. The cloud of impulse cleared from the air, and as they stared at one another, she realized something more profound had just happened than what let on, and was immediately fearful of it. The connection between them in that moment was so strong that she wasn't sure whether it was a good thing. Her eyes darted out her peripheral and saw his hands were entwined with hers. She was confused as to when that had happened, and even more confused that there were no cuffs holding her down. She became deathly afraid then, not of him but of herself. She opened her mouth, but Jareth saw the fright in her eyes and in misinterpretation spoke up first.

"Don't you dare accuse me of raping you, after_ that._" His face was wrought with exertion but the focus in his eyes was deadly. Sarah looked at him strangely, finding his statement rather convenient, as she had no intention of doing such a thing, but stopped herself from saying that that was what truly frightened her.

"Jareth...I..." She looked so confused, so confused and upset. While Jareth could only expect as much, it was still more than he was prepared to handle. He released her hands, then grasped the sides of her face and kissed her. His hold on her was desperate, his eyes now screwed shut.

"No. Whatever you're going to say, let it wait." It was clear what he expected her reaction to be, and she was surprised and concerned to be feeling the exact opposite. She wanted to speak up, but she was simply too flabbergasted to do so. His eyes flickered down, waiting for her to interject, and was admittedly disappointed when she didn't. He pulled out of her and situated himself. She looked confused and disturbed, her mind a million miles away; but he refused to let this moment be spoiled by eminent regrets. He would keep this memory as it was. If she were going to hate him, she could do it tomorrow.

His emotions was getting the better of him again, and he realized he may end up being the one to ruin it. He looked into her eyes and ran his fingers through her hair, trying his best not to let his true emotion show through. "We're both rather disgusting. You should probably clean yourself up..."

Sarah furrowed her brow and opened her mouth to speak, confused why he was now the one to be so put off, but she never had the chance. The next thing she saw was the back of an armchair and the corner of a fireplace. Jareth and the darkness of the dungeon were gone. She looked around and realized she was now laying on the floor in the middle of her bedroom, alone. She sat up, with a mildly frenetic look in her eye, and just stared at the floor simply abashed, not having the faintest idea of where or how to start sorting through the day's events.

She closed her legs and smoothed out the skirt of her dress, and frowned at how sullied and ruined it now was, stained with soot and grime from the dungeon floor. For a moment, she thought about standing and running straight into Jareth's bedroom, demanding that they deal with what just happened here and now, though the more she thought about it, the more she realized she had no idea what she was even feeling let alone what to say. He had taken her brutally just then and left her just as quickly as he always did; though this time she was not left alone. No, this time she was left haunted by the disillusionment that it was not the shackles that had kept her held down but her own devious discretion.

  



	78. Give and Take part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While unbeknown to her, Sarah has succeeded in obtaining the one thing the Goblin King has desired for hundreds of years -power over the Labyrinth. After being hidden for years from his diabolical wrath, Sarah finds herself alone and vulnerable as Jareth's dark desires are finally aloud to rear their ugly heads. As always, the only question is, are things really as they seem?

Chapter 15, Give and Take

* * *

Sarah sighed and stared at her knees, knees that were exposed and covered in grime, knees that were now trembling. Her sigh broke and her following breath wavered. Fingers curled against the floorboards, the fire cracked beside her. It was too quiet. She was too still. She thought she might explode if she didn't find the will to move sometime soon.

_That bastard...that stupid cowardly bastard_. The focus of her gaze seared her vision and her knees knocked as her feet shifted in the effort to break out of her stupefaction. _How dare he...how dare he just send me away like that!_ She couldn't believe it; of all the ways he could have handled that situation, not handling it at all was by far the worst. Just when she thought she had him figured out he went and pulled yet another behavioral 180. _No. That's it. Not this time. _She turned and made move to stand, but such efforts were left in vain, for the moment she whipped around found herself frozen in utter mortification.

Mariella just stared, struck just as dumb as she, maybe even more, as her wide gaze and addled expression bore deeply into Sarah's own. Sarah's brow twitched, but otherwise remained petrified as she stared up at the seemingly horrified woman sitting perched on the couch beside her. Sarah opened her mouth and made a very unpleasant face as she fumbled with what to do, but the awkwardness only made it that much harder. Neither said a word for what they thought to be the longest time, Sarah's panic and shame having blotted out the wonder of whatever reason there could be for Mariella to be lounging in her room so late at night in the first place. After a moment, Mariella opened her mouth to speak and rose a hand, as she so often did, in a gesture to accompany such words, though both were a struggle. Sarah pursed her lips and sat back.

"Um...hey."

Sarah's words were launched in such a void that, upon their reverberation, she wasn't even sure they were her words at all. She curled one of her hands into a fist and rose it to her chest in a nervous manner, her posture now turning submissive against Marie's lingering surprise. The Fae-Nymph blinked herself out of it quickly however and limbered herself by leaning forward with a concerned hand.

"S-Sarah? What in blazes has happened to you?" she asked, shifting further off the couch, but stopped herself when she saw Sarah's flinch push her away. Sarah looked to the floor, over herself and then once more around the room, before blinking furiously and shaking her head.

"I-uh...umm...nothing. Nothing happened," she lied terribly, giving cause for Mariella to scoot off the couch and to the floor beside her. She reached out but, whether subconsciously or not, Sarah recoiled from the advance.

"Sarah, forgive me, but that lie isn't strong enough to even be titled one. Look at you! Are you alright? You're absolutely filthy! And what is that? Is that blood all over your bodice?!" Sarah struggled like a fluttering butterfly to evade Mariella's abrupt inspection, raising her hands in an effort to cease and clumsily backing away towards the fire.

"No. Really, I'm fine. I'm fine! It's not blood. Don't worry. Nothing happened. I'm not hurt." Her smile was wide and beside itself. Why was she smiling? Mariella eased back and looked over her once more, this time taking the time to inspect her more thoroughly.

"Are you sure?" she asked and then twitched as a myriad of strange aromas finally made their way to her senses. She blinked repeatedly and pulled back to stare at her anew. Her gaze was wide again. "Sarah, my, you smell..._of many different things_," she said and leaned in to get a good whiff. Sarah cringed with the familiarity of such a gesture. "I smell nature, flowers and the earth, sunlight and...something else. You..." and then her eyes widened with knowing "_You_...and _His Majest_-"

"N-nothing! I told you, it was nothing. I went outside. I..."

The way she managed to both smile and cringe as she shook her head only made Mariella grow more interested. Her eyes were cast down and she brushed stray locks of hair behind her ear like a giddy child. Mariella's eyes flickered down for just a moment and caught on the way her sooty toes curled as her feet shifted anxiously. As Sarah fumbled and she inspected, the more she gathered her to be unharmed, physically anyway, though her reactions now were certainly peculiar. She began to wonder more and more about the day's affair. If she were outside then where did the soot come from? Why had she appeared on the floor so suddenly? Why was she blushing so feverishly? _Hm, how strange._ If one thing was for sure it was that she was indeed one hell of a mess. Her legs and skirt were damp and blackened with grime, bits of rubble stuck to her feet. Her hair was in tangles, there was dried something smeared across her face and red blotches all over her neck. She could smell what had happened between she and His Majesty well enough, but how exactly did she end up like this? For a moment, she struggled with whether to be excited or gravely concerned.

"You went outside? I thought you weren't allowed to go outside? And I thought you were keen in waiting for His Majesty. I take it he stopped by after I left?" The way Sarah's eyes sprang to hers was confirmation enough and the fevered blush that followed was evidence further. Marie, now feeling a twinge of her own giddiness, had to force herself to suppress a smile.

Sarah shifted uncomfortably, the vulnerability of her surprised state quickly shutting down. She looked away again, though now the smile was no where to be found.

"Yeah...he stopped by...But I take it you already know that," she mumbled, her sorry expression holding no bars against Mariella who only leaned in and called back her attention.

"I see. I take it you two made up then?" she asked. Sarah's eyes shot back to her with a scowl.

"What makes you think we made up? I told you he stopped by. Look at me, I look like I've been put through a ringer. Is this what resolution looks like to you?" she snapped, her hostility clearly defending something. Hmm... Mariella thought carefully about her next move. She wanted to ask what had happened between them, but such prying was not her place.

"You're still angry then..." she observed, having not decided what else to do; her downward glance and faint frown successfully caught Sarah's attention, though her scowl only intensified.

"Damn right I'm angry. Just when I think we're on the brink of something he goes and- he -_Ugh...never mind_," Sarah said, rolling her eyes and crossing her arms tightly.

"I see...I am sorry then." Mariella's excitement, now humbled, was equally sobering to Sarah, who looked over with a softened expression at the defeat she caught in her voice.

"Sorry? Why are you sorry?" she asked. Marie shrugged.

"It's just...when I first saw you just now -when I first smelled you-" Her eyes happened to flicker to Sarah's legs as she spoke, a hint that was very much taken; Sarah's blush burned anew.

"Whoa, whoa whoa, I don't know what you think you're smelling there missy, but let me tell you-"

"The only thing you need to tell me is whether or not you are okay."

Sarah paused her embarrassment and looked at her skeptically, before reigning in that pesky little finger she so often liked to point. The look on Mariella's face was of earnest and concern, something which held a great impact on Sarah. After a moment, she moved to sit on her knees.

"Um...yeah...I told you...I'm fine," she said, and folded her hands in her lap awkwardly. Mariella cocked her head and frowned.

"But...you said...things with His Majesty..."

"It wasn't like that." Sarah's interjection held only trace amounts of her once present vehemence, though it was quite clear she was still very much worked up over the matter. She sighed heavily and shook her head. "It wasn't...it wasn't what you think. But you can smell me though, right? You know?" she asked, and for a moment Mariella looked uncomfortable.

"Yes...though I am sure it is only because you were caught off guard...I'm sure my presence here is just as surprising for you as yours was for me." Sarah started shifting around then, though to Mariella it looked like she was having a hard time doing so.

"Yeah...speaking of that. What were you even doing here? What time is it?" she asked. Mariella glanced over towards the clock.

"About three in the morning."

"Huh? What are you doing here so late?" Sarah asked, whilst trying to gather herself to her feet. Mariella helped straighten her up a bit.

"You weren't here when I came to get you for dinner. Master Roldan was concerned and wanted me to check up on you afterwards, and when you still weren't back, and with His Majesty's apparent absence as well, he wanted me to stay until you returned," she explained. Sarah huffed.

"I didn't think Roldan cared that much."

"He cares about you in relation to His Majesty, and he cares about your safety; whatever else you should never question that, and with both your odd behaviors lately everything is a concern..." she said and began to let Sarah go, only to clamp onto her once again when she stumbled from her grasp. "My dear! Are you sure you're okay? That smell, and those stains, it's magic -it's some kind of fruit isn't it? Are you sure His Majesty hasn't harmed you?" Again Mariella's questions struck her, giving her a brief window of clarity. She straightened herself up and pulled away.

"No...he didn't. Really. I just -uh...we just...things just got...I don't know. I'm sorry but I really just want to take a shower and clear my head. It that okay? I'm sorry. Thank you for waiting up for me."

She pulled away only to turn back and face Mariella's new look of dejection, a look she didn't quite understand. She furrowed her brow just as a spell of dizziness decided to hit her; she leaned against the back of the chair to conceal it.

"What's wrong?" she asked. Mariella nibbled her lip and knotted her fingers.

"I'm sorry Sarah, it's just...well...you may not know me very well but I know enough about you and His Majesty to be concerned. You say nothing happened, and you are not obligated to tell me otherwise; but I do have eyes Your Grace. You can barely stand. You've been gone all day and half the night, somewhere of utter filth, and you say things with His Majesty have not been resolved? You say you are still angry with him? When but this morning you told me you were no longer angry with him...And not to mention...well...you know what I am not mentioning. Please, be honest with me, is this something to be concerned about?"

Sarah was silent for a moment. A part of her just couldn't believe a Fae could be this genuine towards her. She couldn't believe someone she hardly knew really cared about her. She'd been telling herself she was lost and alone here without her friends, but Mariella _was_ a friend, one she had been taking for granted. She looked to the floor and bit her lip, trying to compose what she would say.

"...You think he raped me, don't you?" she asked, the bluntness of her question making Mariella blanch.

"I...I think nothing. I have only confusion..."

"Well he didn't."

There was a new hardness to her voice, as if she was forcing herself to show conviction in those words. Mariella looked up to her eyes, trying to dissect their integrity.

"And you're right. I wasn't angry with him this morning, but now I'm...oh I don't know. He handled a delicate situation very poorly and let's just say I'm miffed about it." She put a hand on her hip as she spoke, some clarity was starting to come back to her motor function.

"Alright...then may I ask how things were fairing before the _delicate situation_?"

Sarah paused before answering, one which signaled that she actually had to think about it and that she hadn't really before. She shifted away and scowled. Mariella waited patiently.

"How things were fairing? Things were fairing...very well, I have to admit. I think we were actually coming to terms on somethings..." she said, oblivious to the faint smile slowly working Mariella's face.

"So things _are_ better then? Better than they were? So that smell then...you did make up? Before whatever happened next anyway..." Mariella grew more hopeful, though Sarah's scowl continued to twist.

"Um...I wouldn't say we made up. I don't really know what happened actually..."

"That's easy. Answer me this, are you alive?"

Mariella's question, as strange and good-natured as it was, struck Sarah deeply and she pondered it such, though she didn't understand.

"Alive? What do you mean? Of course I'm alive," she said. Mariella stifled a giggle and shook her head.

"Yes, but have you always been? I suppose what I should be asking if you are no longer dead," she said and gave her a knowing eye, one full of pesky woman's intuition, a type of divulgence that Sarah wanted no part of.

"I...no? I don't know. I think I'm confused more than anything. Let's just say that a lot has happened for one day and leave it at that," she said and glanced away. Mariella bit her lip she was getting so excited. Her inquiry had caused her to close down, which meant her rhetoric had been proven right regardless. Oh what fun, this was just the sort of thing Lord Davion would want to hear about!

"Sarah you can always confide in me if it would help. Help sort your thoughts, I mean." She tried not to sound overly enthusiastic, but Sarah wasn't picking up on it anyway. She shifted against the chair and brushed some of the dirt from her legs.

"You know, I didn't realize how bad my dress was. It's ruined, I'd say..." The sudden despondence in Sarah's mumbled voice had Mariella's fervor fading, and she wondered if perhaps she had pushed too hard too soon.

"It can be cleaned good as new," she assured her. Sarah's hands fisted in her skirt.

"Actually...I need to go," she said and turned away.

"What? Why? You only just appeared, quite literally I might add. For peace of mind, might you at least tell me where you have been?" The way Sarah's brow now furrowed made her even more worried. Her mind was clearly elsewhere, but whatever had happened, Mariella needed to know.

"The dungeons," Sarah muttered, slowly maneuvering towards the bathroom. Her body was still weak so she hobbled for balance, an arm that Mariella was quick to lend.

"The dungeons? My goodness, whatever for?" But her question was left without an answer as Sarah struggled for decisiveness. There was just too much going on in her head right now, and Mariella's question had only stirred it up. Why was she so interested in details anyway? -No, all that could wait. She needed to get out of this dress. She needed a long soak.

"Because of the fruit-" she mumbled and then turned around so they were face to face. "I'm sorry, but I feel disgusting. I've got dirt and grime and God knows what else in places it should never be and I bet I smell of more than just pheromones. I get that you're trying to help and thank you, but I just really need to be alone right now." Sarah always tried her best not to ever "order" her, but Mariella knew that a plead like this meant just the same. She eased up immediately and let her manage her own balance, then smiled weakly and lowered her head.

"I understand. Forgive me for being too forward. Now that you are back and found in reasonable condition I have fulfilled Master Roldan's request. I will see you in the morning."

"Thank you, Marie."

Mariella nodded and turned to leave, but turned back around once Sarah spoke up once more.

"Oh, and one more thing. Could you please _not_ mention anything about this. To anyone. Ever." She looked her square in the eye as she spoke, earning her a curt nod in return. There wasn't much left to say after that. Sarah bid her goodnight and no sooner was she out the door.

  



	79. Give and Take part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While unbeknown to her, Sarah has succeeded in obtaining the one thing the Goblin King has desired for hundreds of years -power over the Labyrinth. After being hidden for years from his diabolical wrath, Sarah finds herself alone and vulnerable as Jareth's dark desires are finally aloud to rear their ugly heads. As always, the only question is, are things really as they seem?

Finally alone, Sarah wasted no time in shucking off that awful dress and started up the tub. She would have much preferred a shower to wading in her own grime, but it couldn't be helped, so she thought to instead wash away the thicker chunks of dirt while the water filled. Never had she had to bathe before bathing.

As she stared at herself in the mirror, scrubbing away the stains of the fruit left on her face and neck, she wondered how in the world Jareth could have even been remotely attracted to her looking like this. It was disgusting. Really, really disgusting. She could describe it no other way. She even felt bad for poor Mariella, having to be surprised and horrified by such a sight when least expectant. But regardless, it was all over now. The dirt drizzled away and the knots came unbrushed. The tub was now filled and the oils and beads were just where she wanted them. The water was hot and the steam refreshing, and she sank to the bottom of it like a rock.

She stayed there for a few seconds, letting the water bring warmth to her limbs, which had all but chilled after being exposed to the cold and damp air of the dungeons. When she emerged for air, the way the water streamed down her face made her feel reborn. Cleanliness was something she would never, ever take for granted. She washed every part of her until any evidence of that day was long gone, but it wasn't enough. She laid in the water, completely motionless, completely silent, and yet it was anything but idle. She was right, taking a moment to relax had helped clear her head, but that only meant she now had to think things through.

_Why did he leave like that? Was he afraid of how I would react? If he was afraid I'd accuse him of something, doesn't that mean he's already accused himself? _She just couldn't figure it out. Of all the traits Jareth wielded, Cowardice was not one of them. He owned up to his decisions and actions fully, even if they were wrong he managed to find a way to stand by them. If anything he always held conviction. Even after the displacement her actions had put them in, even though he was unsure of how she would react, _he_ always knew what he was doing. And thus she just didn't get it. Was she missing something? Was he right to have reacted like that? He was jumping the gun for sure but...would she have reacted any differently had he not?

She blew bubbles into the water as she pondered this, simultaneously surprised at how easy it was to sort through. Any other time she would be fighting herself, but now it was just...simple. It was good. She felt good. All of her. Her body didn't hurt like it had before and her heart was surprisingly at ease.

She leaned back, running her fingers through her hair, and stared at the ceiling. Would she have reacted differently? In her mind she thought yes, but her mind also knew that thoughts and actions are two different things. Would she have had the courage to own up to it? Maybe. Possibly. But either way, she would never know because Jareth had taken it upon himself to not ruin but just plain omit an outcome. Where was he anyway? What could he possibly be doing? For a moment she imagined him being in the same exact position as she, trolling about the tub wondering what the other would do next; but again, she couldn't imagine that kind of uncertainty on him.

Was Mariella right? Had they made up? Did hooking up equal making up? Or was that just an in the moment thing? She didn't have enough experience in these matters to accurately compare and neither was she comfortable enough to ask it of Marie. Needless to say, she and Jareth were due for one hell of a conversation.

_No. Hooking up does not change anything. Sex cannot solve our issues, so if he thinks we're all good and peachy now he's got another thing coming._ The more she thought this, the more offended she became. She wouldn't deny what happened between them, but she refused to use it as a scapegoat. Not to mention that she wasn't even entirely sure what exactly _had_ happened between them. They had sex yes, consensual sex indeed; but was it anything more? Could she trust him-herself- to let it be anything more? She recalled the intense fear she felt the moment he looked into her eyes. That fear was there for a reason and she needed to keep it close at hand.

She was afraid. Deathly afraid. Why was she so afraid? She was afraid of herself and of them, but not of him. Not him. She felt the strength of the emotions coursing between them, recognized that power and knew it was nothing good. She couldn't handle something like that right now. After everything that had ever happened, if she gave in now she knew she would be destroyed, or even worse, consumed. But that couldn't happen. She couldn't let that happen. She'd finally gotten to a place where she wasn't just a pawn on his board but an equal player. If she was going to maintain that sense of equality she'd sacrificed so much to get, her heart needed to be sure of itself; and until then it would only be a weakness...

She started shaking her head, fed up with her own sentimentalities and, before her thoughts could make a decision she wasn't fully prepared for, stood out of the tub and dried herself off. When she left the bathroom she saw it was already 4:30 in the morning. She only had a few hours to sleep but she didn't care. She needed to find him. They needed to talk or else she feared she might never be able to fall asleep again.

She threw on pajamas and stomped her way to the door, wet and tangled hair n' all. She had no idea what she would say when she got there, but at that moment just being with him was all that mattered. If they were truly on the same page now then the rest would come.

She opened the door to his room and entered quietly. She looked around, but he wasn't there. The room had been cast in pure blackness, all except for the silvery light which broke through the window, illuminating the bed and all its emptiness. The fire burst on upon her arrival, and thus she knew that not only was he not here, but he probably hadn't come back at all after he sent her away.

She put her hands on her hips and groaned. _Where the hell is he?_ _Where could he have gone and more importantly why?_ The enigma that was Jareth was making a quick mockery of both her patience and her courage. She went over to the window and scoped the view, but aside from the moon it was near blackness, even the Goblins below had turned out the lights. She stood there for a few moments and then sighed, forcibly, and sat down on the edge of his bed.

She sat there glowering for minutes, keeping her arms crossed, determined to pout, but curiosity now tugged at her peripheral.

She'd never been this close to Jareth's bed before, let alone touched it. Not surprisingly, it felt just as comfy as her own and was surprisingly not as dangerous as she had once thought. She glossed over it, trying to use general observations to distract herself from the passing time: His comforter was midnight blue, while hers was lavender. His throw blankets were fur while hers were velvet, and his pillows were neatly placed while hers were usually on the floor. This moment of quiet allowed her to mellow out and she frowned when she realized that if he wasn't back already then he wouldn't be coming back any time soon.

Defeated, and now more unsure of herself than ever, she went back to her own room and crawled into bed, wondering if this meant things were now better or worse...Maybe things would at least be easier in the morning.

* * *

Morning came, leaving Sarah to be woken by the chirping of birds singing bitter disappointment as she realized it was yet another morning to be spent alone. She woke up earlier than usual; and even though she'd had but a few hours of sleep, she felt more rested than she had in a long time. Worrying aside, her body needed a recoup and recoup it did.

She brushed her hair and dressed herself, she even summoned tea for when Mariella arrived; and for those thirty minutes it was like her mind was totally clear. The sky was brilliantly blue today, so she picked a dress that matched. It was only when she stopped busying herself and sat down that things started to come back to her: her impatience, her annoyance, her anxiety. She'd felt like such a hypocrite, being mad at him for _not_ being there to wake her up.

When Mariella came she was her usual persnickety self, complementing Sarah on her unusual morning ambition and making it seem like last night's episode had never even happened. Good, now if only Sarah could move on so easily.

"Did you sleep well?" Mariella asked, peeking over the rim of her cup as she sipped her tea. Sarah looked surprised; but then again, she was probably still distracted. "I mean, you must have for being up and ready so early. I'm sure that bath helped." The smile as she spoke was as innocent as always, but Sarah was only growing more and more grumpy, though she did her best to bottle it up for _certain others_.

"Yea, I think it did. I slept like a rock." Mariella stared at the way Sarah slouched over the table until she caught the hint and straightened up. _It was always a good time to practice one's manners_.

"Well good thing. Things will be getting pretty hectic these next few days I imagine. You'll need all the rest and energy you can get."

"Huh? For what?"

Mariella blinked at her a couple of times, hoping she was just teasing and hadn't actually let something so important slip her mind.

"Why your wedding celebration of course! It is the day after tomorrow is it not? I'm sure the castle will be buzzing with final preparations. And there's still so much for us to do."

"What do you mean us?" Sarah asked, her less than cordial feelings on said "celebration" made perfectly clear through her surly tone of voice. Mariella tried not to let it bring her down.

"Well, we still have to pick out what gown you're going to wear for one. Master Roldan insists that I make sure you are suited appropriately. And then you still have to go over guest names. And then you have a final in dance and etiquette. And-"

"You know, you and Roldan seem to be chatting it up an awful lot outside of class." Sarah's interjection made Mariella pause, for more reasons than one.

"Really? Well, we are the only two servants in the castle of our race. And when we are not catering to either you or His Majesty...well, we are both rather busy. I suppose our paths just cross more regularly than you'd expect." She spoke casually but Sarah could see through it. If she didn't know better, she might think Mariella was trying to brush something off. A secret crush maybe? Oh, heaven forbid. After being so lost and whimsy over Davion, she couldn't picture Marie to have the least bit interest -in Roldan- of all people. But nevertheless, teasing was a fun distraction.

"Ah, I see." She picked up her own cup and leaned back in her seat. "So you're saying I get to pick out my own dress then? Hm, I figured it would've been something Jareth threw at me in the midst of an argument." The fact that she mentioned his name so candidly reminded Mariella of why she was so excited, a brightness which shone through her eyes.

"Oh, on the contrary, I don't see why you aren't perfectly capable of picking out your own attire; you'll have me there to guide you of course! I mean, _men_, what do they really know about fashion anyway? And just think, in another week we'll be picking out your wedding gown as well! It's so exciting!"

"Exciting...yeah..." Sarah mumbled, rolling her eyes into her teacup. If anyone should be excited about this dreadful wedding, might as well be Mariella...And speaking of excitement, Mariella did seem to have a lot of it this morning. Sarah wondered if it had anything to do with last night...

"Oh, don't sound so glum. It will be exciting. And you will look positively radiant! I only wish I was able to see." Sarah peered up at that.

"Wait, you mean you're not going?" she asked. Mariella gave her an eye.

"No. We've gone over this. Only a select few will be at the official ceremony. Servants are forbidden. Not even Lord Davion is allowed."

"Oh...right...yeah, forgot about that...Only the other seven council seats right? And I'll meet them at the party beforehand?"

"Of course. I'm sure the realm is just dying to meet you. I don't believe anyone would have thought His Majesty to take a human bride, and so spontaneously as well," she said. Sarah's fingers started to tap against the side of her cup.

"Everyone keeps saying that. Why do you think that is?" she asked, secretly inquiring towards something she knew she'd rather not know. Mariella looked upwards as she thought.

"Well...to be completely honest Sarah, the general conception here is that humans are a bit boring. They are primitive, magicless and fragile. Beings such as ourselves...it isn't just about passion. We need to be entertained. Our life spans are so long, we need something that can hold our attention." Mariella's words had Sarah scowling in spite of herself, but she waited for her to continue. "And you see, well, I'm sure you know by now, His Majesty is rather renown for his fancy of games...But maybe that's the point. Perhaps His Majesty is not in fact bored by humans but instead by us. How queer! But when you really think about it I suppose it makes sense. I mean, your kind is exotic to us. It is something to be explored, perhaps there is more to humans than meets the eye. Perhaps it is that something that His Majesty has seen in you." Sarah's disgruntledness subsided only slightly as Mariella dragged on; for whatever reason, what she said actually made some sense to her. She'd always considered herself his plaything, maybe even some kind of twisted little experiment. What ever allure she held over him was a mystery to her, but it was definitely there or else he wouldn't be pulling them through all this muck. She knew that Marie hadn't meant her words as cynically as she took them, but it couldn't be helped. All it made her think of were all the times she'd asked him why he took her and all the non-reasons he always gave. He was still hiding something from her, and until she had that piece of the puzzle, she couldn't see the picture of the possible future that it would make. And with that as a healthy reminder, she sighed and placed her cup on the table.

"I don't know what Jareth sees in me, Marie. Take it from Roldan. We may not agree on much, but that bit of bonding is inherent. But who knows, maybe you're right. Maybe he does find me entertaining. Maybe you're also right about humans. Maybe this is just a passing fancy and I'll eventually bore him and we can get an annulment." She stood and pushed her chair in roughly, having soured her own temper, and stalked away from the table. Mariella was quick to follow.

"Oh, but Sarah you know that is not possible. And do not say such things! You should be striving to bring good fortune to your marriage, not bad," she proclaimed, looking all worried and sorry as Sarah turned back to hold open the door for her.

"Why? So we can be _happy_?"

"No. So _you_ can be happy."

Sarah smiled to herself and ran a hand through her hair, knowing deep down that she was right, though this morning wasn't the best day to admit it.

"What would happen anyway?" she asked out of the blue. The walk to Roldan's classroom wasn't far, but still long enough to hold out a conversation. As they walked through the halls, she couldn't help but notice how quiet the castle was, not a Goblin or Gremlin in sight. Hm, that was strange.

"Hm? To what are you referring to?"

"If he got bored of me. What would happen if he got bored of me," she clarified, somewhat anticipating the answer, and therefore was greatly surprised by what Mariella said next,

"Well Sarah, that is entirely up to you."

"What? What does that mean?" Sarah asked, turning to give her a rather perplexing stare. Mariella shot her one in return, surprised no one had told her yet. Did she really not know? This was kind of important...

"There are no annulments nor divorces in our culture. But if His Majesty were to tire of you...actually, what I should say is if you were to tire of His Majesty...it would be within your right to take on another husband-"

Sarah stopped dead and grabbed her by the arm.

"Wait what? I can do that?" she near-exclaimed, the brightness in her eyes bringing a look of disappointment to Mariella's face.

"...Yes. The union would hold lesser standing to you and His Majesty's of course, but it is a viable path. There are conditions of course." Marie was starting to grow wary of her wording, seeing just how interested Sarah had become. She might not be the most educated woman in the realm, but she knew that if no one had told her of this yet, then they in fact did not want her to know. She just hoped this conversation wouldn't lead to something dire for herself and for Sarah as well.

"What about legal ties? Surely I can't be married to two kings, right?" she asked, both impressing and worrying Mariella with her attention to detail.

"Well...that is rather tricky business. All I can say is that no matter the rank of your intended, they would be regarded legally and socially as no more than a consort."

"Kinda like what Davion has going on?"

"...In a manner, though while Lord Davion's consorts come and go, yours would be permanent."

"And what about Jareth? Can he take a second wife if he wants?"

"Oh Gods no."

The absurdity in Mariella's voice had Sarah doubly, maybe even triply intrigued.

"Really? That seems...odd. Why do you say it like that?"

This time Mariella bit her lip, now deeply regretting entertaining this line of discussion.

"Sarah, please tell me you have not forgotten all that Master Roldan has taught you. You know that women hold a certain superiority over a marriage. This is one such instance. When you and His Majesty wed, you will come under his power of protection yes, but you will own him completely. I know that this may be difficult to understand but-"

Again, Sarah stopped dead in the middle of the hall. This walk was was taking longer than expected. Mariella became increasingly worried. Master Roldan would not be pleased.

"Own him? What do you mean own him?" she asked. Mariella stifled a sigh.

"Let's just say that he will not be able to take a second wife or even a consort without your approval. If he were to do so without your permission it would be considered an infidelity, an offense which is taken very seriously."

"Seriously, you say? How seriously?"

"It depends."

"Depends on what?"

"Oh! look, there's the door. We've taken so much time lolligagging. Wouldn't want to upset Master Roldan by being late. I'm sure he can answer your questions more properly than I. Shall we?" Blessed be the gods who took pity on her poor plight just then. She'd been trying to nonchalantly inch Sarah closer towards their destination with each question. She was greatly uncomfortable with this discussion and worried over whether or not she would be reprimanded for it. She could see why His Majesty might not want her to know of these things just yet...with her temper and impulsive disposition...nothing would end well. And given the rocky ground they stood on, she hoped this reveal wouldn't smother them before they even had a chance.

Sarah however, was not feeling this same sense of dread, too lost in contemplations over all this new and liberating information. Would she ever act on any of it? No, probably never. She just wasn't like that. But just knowing she actually had some kind of freedom that Jareth didn't made the whole thing that much better. Why hadn't Jareth told her any of this? Oh, wait, she knew why. Of course he wouldn't tell her. He was probably afraid she would take full advantage. Hm, maybe he should take a hint from his own insecurities? But even more than all that, she couldn't help but feel a little awe-struck that Jareth was willing, hell, damn right eager, to be giving himself to such a restriction. If it turned out he really couldn't stand her, then that was it, he was stuck for life. Not only that, she could move on but he couldn't? Unless she said so? Would she? Or would she be spiteful? Hm...she never expected to be thinking of such things, and in truth it was a little surreal to be doing so. She clicked back into reality to find Mariella opening the door for her and shook her head clear of their discussion. All that could wait, she had enough on her mind as it was.

Speaking of mental torments, Sarah couldn't have taken more than three steps into the room before finding herself stuck in place, having seen the company awaiting their arrival.

  



	80. Give and Take part 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While unbeknown to her, Sarah has succeeded in obtaining the one thing the Goblin King has desired for hundreds of years -power over the Labyrinth. After being hidden for years from his diabolical wrath, Sarah finds herself alone and vulnerable as Jareth's dark desires are finally aloud to rear their ugly heads. As always, the only question is, are things really as they seem?

Marie had just closed the door, Sarah had waited before proceeding. She'd turned around, glancing absently at the floor. There was never anything of interest in this room to catch her attention anyway. She'd heard voices, and at this she looked up because never did she hear _voic__es_and low and behold, standing directly in front of her, hunched over the table with his head turned away from her, speaking toRoldan about whatever the hell it was they talked about and not paying her any attention in the slightest, was none other than her one and only, absolutely infuriating, once lost enigma.

She managed to cover the fault in her step as she approached them, the butterflies hitting her in a torrent. Roldan was standing on the opposite side of the table and had glanced up upon hearing the door open and close. Jareth hadn't so much as twitched. She kept her nose held high, her annoyance for his candid obliviousness making her teeth grind. It was apparent that whatever it was they were talking about had to do with the mass of papers spread out across the table which both were intently combing through, and she wondered whether it was coincidence or planned for them to _cross paths_ so _casually_.

The walk to the table seemed to be agonizingly long, and the tension from it radiated between she and Mariella -who, luckily, kept perfectly quiet and even lagged behind for her own safety. Thankfully, Roldan was the one to break the ice.

"Ah, good morning ladies. I was getting worried you would be late," he said, sounding more cheerful than Sarah had ever heard him… Ever. His superficial tone only irked her more. It was then that Jareth straightened up and glanced over. He wouldn't give her a full turn of face, oh no, only a glance. She began fisting her hands at her sides.

"Never would I let such a thing happen, Master Roldan," Mariella was quick to say; and as annoying as this empty cheerfulness was, Sarah was thankful for the two of them for creating some kind of front to shield her from her own impulses. She took a breath and held it, forcing herself to chill out before she did something daft. She got a little closer, enough to successfully hold Jareth's gaze, and immediately registered the tension as negative.

"And Sarah, don't you look just lovely today as well." She shot Roldan a deadly glare then. He was putting on a show for Jareth's sake and she did not have the time to deal with it. He scowled at her in return but she said nothing. The uproar she was restraining was self-evident in the way she pursed her lips and furrowed her brow and even more evident in the way she tried to hide it. She approached the table and stopped right next to Jareth, having to fight the urge not to start screaming at him then and there. What was it about his presence that both relieving and instantly infuriating?

"She does, doesn't she? Lovely as always," Jareth said, his eyes on her but his attention on Roldan. After that he glanced away and went back to his business. Sarah, now quaking with silent outrage, did her best to remain casual. Roldan picked up on the tension immediately and looked to Mariella for inquiry, who only frowned and shrugged in return. With quiet acknowledgement, both of them tried to secretly back off.

Jareth however seemed to be the only one exhibiting fine spirits and was completely unaffected by whatever awkwardness that was strangling everyone else. He kept his eyes on the paper and resumed his words with Roldan, who now was slightly hesitant to answer.

"_Ahemm_."

Sarah's not-so-polite nor subtle clearing of the throat was perhaps too successful in its intent. Jareth paused and glanced back over to her. His eyes on her were laden with annoyance, and it only irritated her further to have to wonder what _his_ problem could possibly be.

"Yes?" he asked, so casual, so candid, so God damn aloof it made her want to rip her hair out. _What is this? Is he just going to ignore what happened? Why exactly is he looking down his nose me me?! What the fuck! _As she held his gaze she wondered how in the hell he could look at her like that, like this was just another day, like there was nothing going on between them, like there was nothing at all. Had she dreamt all of yesterday? Was she going crazy?!

"What are you doing here?" she asked. It was getting hard to hold back her temper, fueled by insecurity.

"I have some things that I wanted Roldan's consultation on for the celebration. Do you mind starting your lesson a few minutes late?" he asked, with just a hint of passive-aggressive sting. Sarah narrowed her eyes on him, though it did nothing. For a moment she had nothing to say; she just couldn't believe he was dismissing her like this, like she was just some clingy floozy. Was she overreacting? Was she blowing this all out of proportion? She just didn't know, and neither could she help it. Where was he last night? What happened? What happened to all the emotion and angst and passion from last night? The Jareth before her was as cold as ever, his gaze like ice. He stared at her like he was mad at her. Did she do something wrong?

When it was clear she wouldn't respond, he acted first by turning away and picking back up with Roldan. She glared up at Roldan again, but there wasn't much else for him to do aside from respond to Jareth. She nearly jumped when she felt Mariella's hand on her arm.

"Maybe we should go elsewhere until their business is finished?" she suggested, quietly, appeasingly, anything to stop Sarah from self-destructing.

"No. That won't be necessary. I'm done here."

Both women glanced up as Jareth stood straight and gathered all his papers. Was it her or did it seem like he was trying to get away from her now? What the hell was going on!?

"Carry on," he bid Roldan and briskly walked away from the bunch without even a second glance for Sarah. Oh no. That was not happening. He was not going to run away from her now. Casting restraint aside, Sarah stepped to the side and grabbed ahold of his jacket just as he moved past.

"Hey!" she said, louder than necessary, and glared daggers until he turned around. He rose a brow at the way she held his sleeve in apparent disdain, though he did nothing to remove himself from her grasp. His eyes on her were like stone, and she gulped down the butterflies as she fought for confidence. "Where -Where were you last night?" she demanded, keeping her back as straight as can be and clenching her jaw tight. Jareth stared at her for a moment and then glanced to Roldan, who took that as his cue to move away. Mariella followed suite.

"I was with you," he said, unpleasantly monotone. Sarah pulled on his sleeve a little harder.

"After that. Where did you go after you sent me away." Both she and Jareth could sense how personal this conversation was about to become, but she just didn't care. She didn't care about Roldan and Mariella standing awkwardly behind them. Hell, she didn't care if the whole world was privy to this imminent disaster so long as she got this stupid anxiety off her chest. Why was he acting this way? Why was he being so closed off? Though they hadn't exchanged more than a few empty words, it felt like there was some massive subtext digging in and shoving her away. Didn't he know she was feeling vulnerable?! It just didn't make sense to her. It was a given that she would be unsure and afraid of last night, more specifically what it meant for them now, and this mystery tension was quickly sending her into a panic of insecurity. Jareth however, remained as cool and composed as ever.

He waited a beat before responding. His aura seemed to darken, but she was oblivious to it.

"You know how I feel about you demanding things," he said. Sarah just blinked at him, abashed, and felt a heat rise in her face that was so hot it made her eyes start to smart. _No. Do not lose control now, Sarah. You have to do this._

"I don't care. Where were you? I tried to find you and you- you weren't there. You knew I would look for you. Tell me why you weren't there."

Again Jareth's eyes flickered back to Roldan, and it became apparent he was ashamed to be having this conversation in front of them. That only made her more angry.

"Stop looking at them! I don't care about them, just answer me already!" She jerked on him again but this time he pulled out of her grasp and took hold of her own arm. He was scowling now, staring right through her.

"You will watch your tone and not raise a hand to me again, understand?"

Sarah stared at him long and hard and bit her lip to suppress the hailstorm of her anger. Just like Roldan before, Jareth was putting on a show, trying to come off as strong and in control for appearances sake. But she didn't give a fuck. If he was going to be an asshole in front of his friend then she had no problem being a bitch in return.

"You're a coward, you know that Jareth?" she said and yanked her arm away from him. She kept her gaze seared to his, but she knew Mariella had gasped and Roldan had growled no matter how far away they were. Oh, Jareth was afraid of her making a scene? Well now he was in store for a whole Goddamn play.

She could see the way his face tensed just then and knew she shouldn't have said that and yet couldn't have been more proud of it.

"Excuse me?" he asked.

"You heard me. You're a coward. You ran away last night and you're running away now."

"I suggest you watch your mouth-"

"Why? Because we're in front of the help? God forbid I embarrass you," she growled. Jareth, already more than fed up, grabbed ahold of her arm and started pulling her away. She dug her heels into the tile and pulled back. "Let go of me!" she exclaimed. When Jareth turned back his eyes held a fury that matched hers.

"You will be silent. Before I do something you will regret."

"Oh, more threats, is that it? Just more words for you to hide behind. You think that just because you're the King that you don't have to deal with this? Well you do, Jareth. You have to deal with it and you have to deal with it now."

"How dare you show such disrespect for your King!" Roldan's voice came out of nowhere, and it was quickly made apparent that his intrusion was not wanted. Jareth turned from her to him, his eyes on Roldan even more deadly than on her.

"And you will not raise your voice to her! How dare _you_ show such _audacity_ by interrupting your Queen!" Jareth growled, his hoarse and rumbling statement being a shock to everyone, but to Sarah most of all. He still held her by the arm, and whether he realized it or not had started to squeeze. Roldan was silent, Sarah absolutely confounded. When he looked back down to her, he had a cynical grin carved into his face. "If she wants to condemn herself, let her get it all out and do so completely," he said, that smile and that snake-like drawl making her almost regret her actions. Almost. She stood up straighter so they were almost nose to nose and bit the inside of her cheek.

"I'm not afraid of you, Jareth. You're the one who's afraid. And now you're mad because they know you're afraid too."

The next thing Sarah knew, she was being flung across a room. When she caught herself, she had just enough time to register that they were no longer in the drawing room but in her own and found her equilibrium just as his hands went around her shoulders.

"Give me one reason why I shouldn't whip you senseless!" His voice bubbled with anger and his fingers dug into her skin as he fought the urge not to shake her to pieces. Sarah's glare cemented anew, though this time instead of fighting to get away she rose her hands and pulled on the front of his jacket, proving that _being handsy_ wasn't as intimidating as he thought it was.

"Because you know that I am right. The fact that you're this angry only proves it."

"I am angry because you still have the unwavering audacity to spite and disrespect me in front of others. What's worse is that you do it _because_ we're in front of others."

"Well whose fault is that?! Maybe you shouldn't be such a coward and I wouldn't have to confront you in front of them!"

In a fit, Jareth growled and shoved her away, turning his back on her as he clawed a hand down his face. Sarah was surprised by this, surprised that he had backed off instead of throwing or squeezing her.

"Admit it! You were afraid to face me last night. And you were using them as a shield so you could run away still. What is with you Jareth? What the Hell is going on?!"

"Going on? What do you think is going on?" He turned back and wove a vicious hand through the air as he spoke. He was so angry, so angry that she, once again, had to take it upon herself to ruin everything. Yes, maybe he wasn't exactly ready to have this conversation, but she didn't need to go and pull a stunt like that. He absolutely couldn't and wouldn't stand for such insolence. Whether she was right or not, her behavior just now had turned everything upside down.

"What is going on is that something happened last night and instead of dealing with it, you ran away!"

"You say that so innocently. We had sex, Sarah. We fucked in the dirt. What exactly about that needs dealing with?"

His words struck her dumb. She stood there, in sheer disbelief and shook her head. Of all the immaturity he'd ever accused her of, this right now trumped it all. _Is he really being so petulant right now? What the hell is up with him? _He was obviously shielding himself, but she couldn't figure out why. She watched the way the tension coursed through him and realized it was from something other than anger. He was fidgety, out of sorts. It was like he couldn't decide how best to manhandle her; was he fighting the urge to throw her out the window? Or was the urge fighting him? But for Sarah the root was irrelevant; after a moment, she found her scowl and stomped back to him.

"Apparently a lot or else we wouldn't be in this situation right now."

"We're in this situation because you feel the need to act like a wild hellion and actively try your very best to piss me off."

They were standing so close, nose to nose as they glared fire at one another. The blood was starting to go to their heads and was pumping so hard they could hear the combined sound of their hearts pounding mercilessly until they saw red. She wanted to keep screaming at him so badly. She wanted to rip him apart and tear his hair out while he fought the urge to do the very same thing. Yes, there was indeed a lot that needed dealing with, and perhaps Sarah's little public outburst was just what they needed to force themselves into it.

"What can I say, it's what I'm best at. Maybe you shouldn't act like such an asshole. Are you trying to humiliate me? Are you trying to disgrace me? Do you have any idea how I felt after you sent me away? Or how I felt when I went to find you and you avoided me? Oh, and believe me, I know you avoided me. Or how about just now? When I finally see you and the only look you give me goes straight through to the wall?!" she said and shoved him hard. "Consider this payback. I don't care whatever image you've set up for the world to see. I know who you really are." He caught her wrists as she shoved him and held them against his chest

"And what is that exactly?"

"A child," she snarled and pushed him again, though of course he went nowhere. "You're a child Jareth. An immature spoiled child." He let go of one of her hands and wound a fist into the back of her hair, hoisting her to her toes.

"Do you know how many awful things I could do to you for speaking to me like this?" he warned, but Sarah wasn't about to back down.

"I. Don't. Care." She reached up and grabbed his wrist, giving her some leeway so she could stand even taller. "You're hiding behind your violence Jareth, I can see that clear as day. Even now you're still running. So go ahead, punish me, torture me, do your worst. You'll only prove that I'm right."

There was a furious air about them as they stood off against one another; and he could feel her heated breath on his face with each hiss of her voice. There was such sharpness, such clarity to her eyes, and he knew that she could see right through him and that knowledge nearly cut him in two. In that split second he found the time to ask himself why they were in this situation, to ask why he was fighting it. He could feel his heart pounding, they were both so angry with one another. No matter what, they were always so angry. He grimaced with repulsion then. This was all so pointless.

"I never said you were wrong."

  



	81. Give and Take part 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While unbeknown to her, Sarah has succeeded in obtaining the one thing the Goblin King has desired for hundreds of years -power over the Labyrinth. After being hidden for years from his diabolical wrath, Sarah finds herself alone and vulnerable as Jareth's dark desires are finally aloud to rear their ugly heads. As always, the only question is, are things really as they seem?

"I never said you were wrong."

And with that, he forced his mouth unto hers, the hand in her hair twisting until she cried out, and used the opportunity of her open mouth to steal her tongue. He bit down on her lips, swallowed her muffled moans and devoured until they couldn't breathe. Sarah's eyes screwed shut in pain and she did her best to pound against his chest with her free fist. The hand holding her other wrist cast it aside and clawed around the side of her face. He pulled her up until she was barely on her toes and held her too close for comfort. Her hands pulled and pushed at his chest but with no avail, and the pinching of his grip in her hair had tears beading at the corner of her eyes.

Out of nowhere he let her go and she stumbled back, wiping hot saliva from her face. She stared at him, confused, horrified and mortified, and he stared back with a dangerous air about him she'd been too enraged to notice before. He reached out and pulled her back in and she gasped and panted with a rush of adrenaline. His sultry gaze roamed all around her face.

"Is this what you want? To be right? Even if I admit it, you've still pissed me off." His voice was low, both soft and jaded, and again she found herself struck dumb by it.

In a flash, she felt his hands move and then she herself being jerked as he ripped open the front of her dress. She yelped and glared up to him with a wide gaze but he was too quick for her. The next thing she knew she was being hurled through the air. He'd grabbed her by the waist and thrown her the five feet between them and the bed.

She landed hard, sure she had broken a few springs, but had not the time to care. She looked up and scuttled back when he approached her. He shucked his jacket, tore off his gloves. By the time he reached the foot of the bed he was simultaneously kicking off his boots and quickly pulling his shirt up and over his head. Sarah was simply too winded to react. What the hell was happening?

He crawled over the baseboard and reached for an ankle, and she gasped again when she was then pulled flat on her back. The skirt of her dress was pushed up to her thighs and pushed higher still as his hands greedily traveled up them. She fumbled furiously but his grip was firm, and she tried to stop herself from blushing at the way his long hair met the contours of his bare torso.

"What the fuck are you doing?!" she squealed, failing in her attempts to push against his chest as he loomed over her. He pulled on her hair until she was forced to look away from him and lowered himself to nip at her neck.

"Doing what you said. I'm dealing with it," he growled into her skin. She could feel the warmth and the wetness of his mouth on her and arched herself both towards and away from it.

"What? This is not dealing with anything!" she screamed, doing her very best to wriggle out of his hold, but like always there was really no point.

His free hand clawed around the side of her face and turned her back to him.

"Oh yes it is," he hissed, biting down on her lip as he kissed her. Begrudgingly, Sarah felt a heat about to rise in her cheeks, though she wasn't sure if it was from anger or arousal. He tried to kiss her again, but this time she was able to lift him off of her for just long enough to get a word in.

"How is this dealing with last night?" she asked, and groaned when her arms gave out and his body pressed back down to hers. His face moved to her chest and his hands wrapped around her thighs.

"This isn't...but that's only because I'm not dealing with last night," he murmured, kissing and sucking on what was exposed of her breast. The heat of his breath was suffocating. Just like last night...

"Then what the hell are you doing?!" His hands were around her ass, his dexterous fingers creeping under her underwear.

"Testing a theory."

In a fit of rage, Sarah threw herself in the effort to buck him off and succeeded just well enough for her hands to get good leverage on him. She pushed and he was forced to lean up, giving her more room to fight him.

"You are the most insufferable maniac I've ever met!" she said and threw punches too quickly for even Jareth to manage. They weren't strong of course, they weren't meant to be. Her only goal at the moment was to give herself some breathing room. "What the hell are you talking about? How about instead of just doing things you tell me what's going on!"

With a hardened expression, Jareth reached up and grabbed her shoulders and then slammed her back down to the bed. She still swung at him and squirmed but he ignored it.

"What's going on is that I'm angry," he said, his gaze intense on hers and the focus in them made her quiet down for just a moment.

"Really? Who would have thought?" Sarah snapped, full of distasteful mockery. Jareth snarled and narrowed his eyes further.

"You're angry too," he said and leaned in, but she tore her face away just before he could make contact. He growled again and dug a hand into her scalp, forcing her to look at him. "Let's be angry together," he said and kissed her forcefully, biting her lips, her tongue, scraping their teeth, sucking the very air from her lungs. He pulled away so they could both breathe and pressed his forehead against hers. His hips had settled between her legs sometime ago and now started to push against her... "I could punish you...I could lash you, torture you, do my worst as you would say, but that won't get us anywhere will it?" His hips pressed harder until she could feel the hardness of his erection push against her pubic bone. "I've told you...I don't want to hurt you...but you're just so damn infuriating..." His hands on either side of her head held her in place as he moved harder and harder against her. Her mouth had dropped open and she felt herself undulating with each of his movements. "I told you once that there was a way for us to use our anger for our advantage. I told you there were better ways to exhaust one's frustrations..." She was too distracted to stop him from kissing her and caught herself moan when his tongue twined with hers. "Maybe...if we're no longer angry...we can think clearly again..." he whispered between twirls of his tongue. Sarah closed her eyes and arched her back.

"You're trying to convince me to solve our problems with sex?" she asked, gradually fisting her hands in preparation to push at him again. His kisses trailed to her ear.

"Not solve...that would be asking too much...but certainly deal with..."

"That seems awfully self-serving," she said and pushed him off of her. She squirmed out from under him, but couldn't escape in time for him to drag her back down again; however this time she wouldn't allow herself to be trapped. She kicked and thrashed and flailed until he had no choice but to restrain her.

"I see the service as mutual," he said, grabbing her wrists and spreading them wide. "I use you. You use me. Until we both feel satisfied. Equal exchange."

"You're assuming I'm just as interested in this as you are," she growled, pulling weakly against his hold.

"I see no reason why you wouldn't be," he said and had to reposition himself when her struggling became difficult to maintain. "I'll have to tie you down if you don't stop this incessant squirming, you know." Sarah scowled hard, but said nothing. She wasn't fully aware of the way her body relaxed in reaction to his threat, but he did. He looked at her skeptically, and after a moment a sly smile curled his lips. "Oh...wait a minute-" he said, audaciously, and leaned in towards her. Sarah's scowl deepened and she tried to turn away from him. His eyes continued to search her face and his smile only grew. "Don't tell me...you want me to tie you down?" he asked, with hopeful disbelief. Sarah became angry then shot back at him with a glare.

"What? Don't be stupid-"

"You do, don't you?"

The awe in Jareth's voice was as annoying as it was correct. A new light shone in his eyes, and although it wasn't dark it was certainly dangerous. Sarah started squirming again.

"No, I don't. Let go of me, Jareth-"

"Ah, of course you would say that. You want to say it, you enjoy it," he said and pinned her hands tighter to the bed, then lowered his head and sniffed along her neck. "It's just like last night...your body goes completely lax when I restrain you...it only fights because it thinks it has to...because it _likes_ too..."

"What are you talking about?" she asked. He glanced back to her with a wicked grin.

"Oh, Sarah. You are naughty." The amusement, no, enthrallment in his voice had her blushing like a fool as they held one another's gaze. Clearly Jareth had thought he'd discovered something, but Sarah was not about to let him take it any further.

"Shut up! And get off of me already!" she yelled, making herself more angry when he only became more excited. Without warning he pressed his lips to hers again, his hands curling around hers and engulfing her with his arms.

"Oh, you sweet, sweet thing. I think that is the last thing I'll do," he said and brushed his nose against hers. "You think I'm a coward? You're an even bigger one than me."

"Excuse me?"

"You think hiding behind some restraints will keep you from taking responsibility in all this, don't you?" he asked, and she only stared up at him, confused. "You think that being tied down means you don't have a choice, and if you don't have a choice, well you might as well enjoy it, right? Finding control by being controlled? Let me guess, it's because you can't possibly live with yourself accepting that you LOVED last night. But let me tell you something, bondage is not a shield, it's an accessory..." He let go of her hands and moved his to her hips. "One that I think will not be needed today. And you say I'm the one who's not dealing with what happened...You're going to enjoy this Sarah, and we're both going to know it." And with that, his hands clawed through her ruffled skirt, yanking it so he could get at the trembling flesh underneath. Her legs fumbled restlessly, but it wasn't long before he ripped through her undergarments. He used his weight to keep her subdued while he worked on his own.

"And what if I don't?!" she squealed. Jareth paused for half a second. "What if I won't enjoy it? What if I need to be tied down?" She wasn't really sure what she was saying here, but she panicked and the words came of their own volition. She didn't have time to think of what this meant about herself, all she knew at that moment was that he was right, she didn't know why, but what she was really afraid of was of not being tied down.

Jareth's grin was malicious.

"I suppose that will make you angry then, won't it?" he asked, challengingly. "You refuse to let me hide? Well I refuse you as well. So tell me, are we dealing with anything yet?" he asked and reached around her back, holding her in place while he bit his way down her breast.

"You're a Goddamn scoundrel, you know that Jareth?" Sarah said, through grinding teeth as she fought to get at him any way possible, but the more she struggled the more solid his hold became. The insulation of everything around her was causing her to overheat and she became strained with her own efforts. "UGH! Why can't you just do something normal? Why can't we just have one conversation where things don't end up like this!" He rose his head back to her at that and ran his tongue along her lip.

"Because that would be boring," he said, and just like that the rage she had felt earlier that morning hit her in full force. Mariella was right, he did find her entertaining. He found her plight entertaining. The pain and the heartache...it was all worth it to him so long as he wasn't bored! And she hated how often she wondered if it was anything more. With newfound energy, she shoved against him with all her might and swung at him tooth n' nail.

"Ugh! You're such an asshole! An evil manipulative sadistic fucking asshole!"

She threw a backhand, one that he caught, and then one with the other hand. However, after catching the second, he was partially distracted allowing her first hand to slip free and was, from the immense inertia and nothing else, slapped starkly across the face.

The sound cut the air, leaving both parties stunned. Sarah withdrew her arms immediately and looked up as if about to be smote by the hand of God. Jareth leaned up slightly and shifted his jaw as he ran his fingers down his smarting cheek. The skin was reddening fast, leaving quite the handprint on the Goblin King's face. There was a voice in the back of Sarah's head screaming that this was her moment to run before all hell broke loose, but she was too petrified to do so.

After but a second or two, Jareth's eyes flickered down to her and then a horrible, horrible smile stretched wide across his face.

"Well...that's more like it."

Sarah had just time enough to look shocked before Jareth was in her face again. He tore open the fly on his pants and pulled open the front of Sarah's dress. One hand twisted in the knot of her hair so tightly she could feel it being pulled out while the other kept her legs wide as he positioned and plunged himself inside her.

Sarah's back bowed and her mouth dropped open. He was always so sudden and there was never anything gentle about it. He didn't give her time to adjust, moving hard and precise, holding her hip so he could push to the hilt before pulling out again.

Sarah moaned, loudly, there was just no other reaction to have. He moved his arms to cage her in at the shoulders and buried his face in her neck.

"I think you're underestimating the proposition at hand," he said and bit her neck roughly. She cried out, her fingers digging into the flesh of his arms as she tried hopelessly to back him off. "You're frightened that I'll do my worst, but what I'm offering is the opportunity for you to do yours." His mouth traveled along her clavicle and moved down her sternum. "You drive me absolutely insane. I don't want to hurt you. All I ask is the chance to clear my head, a chance to relieve my frustration, a chance for you to do the same." He sat up and took her with him so she sat astride him. She looked confused and disoriented, but he knew she heard him. His hands went to the back of her neck and held her suspended as he thrust up into her harder. Sarah stared down at him, trying her best to ignore the sharp flare of pleasure that came with each thrust. The way he angled her made everything more intense and she'd be a liar to say she wasn't enjoying it. She arched her back but twisted her neck, trying to evade his hold, and clawed her own hands deep into his unruly hair. She pulled tightly until his own mouth dropped open and he was forced to lean his head back. They held each other's stare, and sure enough, that creeping grin had found its way back. Unwittingly, the extended connection of their eyes seemed to slow everything down as they challenged one another wordlessly; and a slow burn of carnal provocation began to rise between them, something Sarah regretted immediately. Sensing this reaction, Jareth's stare softened, tauntingly impassioned, and his grin stretched further. "You can't tell me you're not as interested as I," he said, thrusting into her slow and steady. She kept her breathing in rhythm with his movements, a clear sign that she was trying her best to restrain herself. But this wasn't about fighting themselves, it was about fighting each other. With ease, he lowered his hands from her neck and took hold of her hips, rocking them gently as he moved.

Sarah stared at him with a flurry of fire and ice, her hips rising and falling with his hands. She was so angry with him, so unfathomably angry. She was angry because he was a pompous prick. She was angry because the line of consent was too blurred for her right now; and she was angry because for some reason she wanted nothing more than to punch him in the face and fuck his brains out. Yes. Yes, she was indeed interested.

After a moment of testing one another, Sarah's hands tightened again, pulling his head back farther and causing him more pain just to see if he would let her. He winced reflexively but let her have her way. The appeal of the liberty she had over him in this moment was absolutely sinful and she knew she would be better off without it. Too bad temptation had had its way long ago.

  



	82. Give and Take part 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While unbeknown to her, Sarah has succeeded in obtaining the one thing the Goblin King has desired for hundreds of years -power over the Labyrinth. After being hidden for years from his diabolical wrath, Sarah finds herself alone and vulnerable as Jareth's dark desires are finally aloud to rear their ugly heads. As always, the only question is, are things really as they seem?

She refused to dignify him with words, but pushed herself onto him harder, rocking her hips without his coaxing, then clawed her nails into his scalp and pushed him into her cleavage. Jareth's eyes closed as he focused on her nails digging into his skin and sucked at the tender flesh of her breast. Her dress inched lower and lower down her arms as they moved, gently coaxed by Jareth's hands. His mouth moved upwards and bit her shoulder making her wince, and he used the opportunity to lay her flat on her back.

She pulled at his hair, trying to yank his mouth from her, the pain was too much, but he wouldn't budge. Her arms went around his back and held him as he pounded into her, with more and more force each time. His breathing became so heavy it was the only thing that filled her ears and she closed her eyes to savor it before clawing her nails viciously down his back.

His mouth pulled back from her and he called out pain, his eyes screwing shut, his muscles tensing. She could feel the tremors moving through his skin, and it made her morbidly aroused that she could get away with eliciting such a response from him. Never had she been this physical with him. Never had she been able to land a single punch let alone make him cringe. Whatever the darkness inside her that was spurring her on was, she welcomed it. She was just so mad at him. Being touched by him felt so good. But touching him felt even better, the harder the better.

Panting heavily herself, she tossed her head back and dug her nails even deeper; and she knew it must have really hurt this time from the way his arms nearly gave out and there was a falter in his rhythm. The tips of her fingers became warm and she figured he must be bleeding. Strangely, that thought only made her more aroused, and she took great satisfaction in the way he kept his eyes screwed shut, kept his body braced, kept himself from moving too much should she feel the need to punish him again.

She relaxed into the sheets and moaned, having never welcomed such abandon before. And as he trembled with pain and ecstasy, as she writhed with euphoria and gratification, she realized that he was right. She had every intention of hiding behind shackles. It made things easier and safer for herself. If he took control then she wouldn't have responsibility. However, this... This was completely different and yet exactly the same. If she could take control like this, own herself like this,_ own him_ like this, then that was just as safe. It was then that she further realized that what she was afraid of wasn't admitting her desire for Jareth, it was succumbing to it. After all, that was what had drove her to take her own virginity in the first place: she was afraid of giving in to him. If she had shackles then he took her, if she was in control then she took him, but in neither case did she ever _give_ herself to him. And that was the slight distinction that made all the difference. Never give in. Never stop fighting. That was what Liana had told her. Do what makes you happy. Live for yourself. That was also what Liana had said; and now she knew, she knew what that meant. The only thing in question now was whether or not she was strong enough to follow through.

"See? Doesn't this feel so much better than arguing?" Jareth's voice was low and taut, Sarah's talons having caused more strain in him than he let show. He kept his eyes closed, focusing on neither pain nor pleasure but the purity of Sensation, and it was all he could do not to engulf her completely. She may be tearing him to pieces, and gods it hurt like hell, but if he could he would never let this moment end. He held onto her tightly, too tightly, though she didn't realize it was because he was afraid of letting go. He wanted to hold her like this so desperately, it ended up hurting her as his grip in her hair only tightened. He wanted her to be with him so desperately, it ended up hurting him as she vented her frustration through her claws; but he didn't care if this was how it would be. He knew. He knew from their very first argument: the way he wanted to strangle her, the way she got his blood pumping so spontaneous and sporadically. He knew how their trysts could -should- end, and now she knew it too. It made no sense to him. No sense at all; but the angrier he became with her the more desperately he yearned for her. He yearned to take all that poisonous smoke and brutal tension and put it to use. He wanted to make it not so pointless.

The way Sarah ripped into his back and bit at his shoulder had Jareth panting like a dog and he only wanted more. He was thrusting into her so hard her groin was starting to go numb and both were sweating as if it were a hundred degrees in the small space between them. She tore her mouth from his shoulder when he spoke, however, and clawed her bloody fingers into his hair and jerked his face close to hers.

"Oh, we're still arguing," she said and kissed him hungrily. He closed his eyes again and wrapped his arms around her, locking his elbows against her shoulders so she couldn't move and fucked her so hard she thought she would split in two. "_Ah Jesus_ -fuck, Jareth!" she cried out, wincing in pain from the onslaught down below. He was going way too hard, but there was nothing for her to do. He continued to steal kisses from her, both their mouths red and chafed. Sweat was glistening between them, and the cold tendrils of their hair stuck to the other's face.

Out of no where Sarah's body cringed and she began to fight desperately for release. The pressure in her abdomen was quickly escalating and she couldn't handle it. Jareth kept his forehead to hers and moaned.

"That's right...feel me. Know how good it feels to fight _with_ me." The vulgar and prurient drawl of his voice had Sarah falling over the edge. She stretched her body and rolled her head back, seeking oxygen as she shrieked. Her legs squirmed feverishly and her hands, not knowing what else to do, scraped down the sides of his arms. Jareth felt the heat in her core flourish in a scorching release, and he moaned low and wantonly in response. He held her close as the tremors hit her, her body shaking in pleasure so strong it was painful and he too was to follow suite. Her mouth still hung wide open as she moaned and he was quick to hook two of his fingers around her teeth, forcing her to suck and gnaw as he pushed them deeper into her mouth. She gasped and gagged, but instinctually twirled her tongue around them and sucked as if she couldn't get enough.

The feeling of her hot wet tongue flicking and lapping against his appendages sent a jolt of stimulation straight through him and he knew he was undone. He leaned up and forced his tongue into the mix as his fingers held her jaw open for the invasion. Everything was so messy, hot saliva and sweat everywhere, but it only added to the fervid frenzy of the atmosphere. His hand jerked from her mouth and clamped around her jaw and he bit down on her lip as he came. His body quivered, just as hers had, the moment of his release being more satisfying than he could have anticipated and he groaned loudly.

Sarah struggled for breath as his body relaxed and he continued to kiss her, lapping her tongue in a messy furor, not caring for form. A hand flexed in her hair while the other kneaded her breast, and it seemed to take an eternity for their hearts to settle. For a moment he thought about continuing on and making her claw for him anew, but the air of impulse had settled; and so finally, after a few heavy breaths, he closed his eyes and sighed, achingly moving off her to fall onto the bed beside her.

The first thing Sarah did once free was glance down. Her dress, just like the one previous, was completely ruined. Aside from the big tear down the front, the once pretty blue, light as the sky, was now dark with sweat, torn and twisted about her body. But even given the exposed mess of her upper torso, she had not the energy nor desire to do anything about it. She laid as flat and limp as a ragdoll, staring straight ahead trying to catch her breath. She'd never been so comfortable.

It was quiet and still for what Sarah considered to be a long time, and after a while turned to look at Jareth. He was in the completely same state as she of course. However his eyes were still closed and his breathing hadn't settled -he had done most of the work after all. She glanced down his front, eyeing the way his chest lifted with each breath and the way the muscles of his groin stood out as his pants were pulled down just a little too far; and as she watched him, she couldn't help but feel a sense of ease. She wondered if it was because of the exertion she'd just experienced or the fact that he hadn't left yet.

"You were right."

Sarah blinked dumbly when Jareth spoke. He was so still she questioned whether or not she was hearing things, but after catching her silence he rolled his head and opened his eyes to look at her, and she was momentarily stunned by their quiet intensity.

"About what?" she asked. Jareth took a deep breath and looked away again.

"About last night. I was afraid."

Sarah's eyes widened and she even shifted a little.

"What-"

"But not for the reason you think," he said, quickly cutting her off. Sarah frowned and settled back into place, though she kept her head turned towards him.

"Okay...why then?" she asked.

She watched him sigh, watched him scowl, watched him run his hands down his face, watched him patiently as he struggled.

"I've never..._lost control_ like that." His words, for whatever reason surprised her, though she tried not to let it show so he would continue, but feared she was found when he suddenly looked her straight in the eye. "I wasn't lying. You drive me absolutely insane. And I've never...given myself to those emotions before." The way he looked at her as he spoke had Sarah shrinking to the size of a mouse. He was calm, full of sincerity and uncertainty. He seemed to be the Jareth from yesterday again...and she couldn't piece together how that and the Mr Hyde that had just fucked her senseless could be the same person. She wanted to start shaking her head. _Geez...all these behavioral fluctuations will be the death of me..._

"Um..." she mumbled, not really having anything to say yet, but he looked like he wanted to hear something. Her eyes flickered here and there...

"I've never wanted something so badly that I...that I let that desire have me instead. So yes, I was afraid. And I left you...because I wasn't sure how far I could let things go without..."

"Taking back control?"

She finished the sentence for him, because for one uncanny reason or another, it sounded very familiar to her. She knew how it felt to have control taken away. And she knew that Jareth was an even bigger control freak than she was. Not that Jareth deserved any of her sympathy in this area, but she could relate and that meant they were connecting. That was progress.

His eyes flickered up to hers, full of skepticism.

"You're doing something to me Sarah Williams. It angers and it frightens me. And I think I'm doing the same thing to you."

She turned away from him at that and looked up at the ceiling. Those words were too raw and too true. He was right, he wasn't the only one running away.

"And you couldn't just tell me all this in the first place because...?" She was starting to get defensive again, but she couldn't help it.

"I told you, we can think more clearly when not suffocated by each other's frustration," he said. Sarah almost laughed.

"So sex really is the answer then? Do you honestly think that's healthy? Resolving our issues by fucking it out and beating the crap out of one another?" she asked, incredulously. Jareth shrugged.

"Why not? Who is to tell us otherwise? If nothing else, at least we both get some pleasure out of it." Sarah pursed her lips and started shaking her head. There was no way this was going to end well, and yet it seemed like the most promising path for them to take. He was right, if nothing else at least she could use him to vent. She could _use_ him...

"So...we had to have angry sex to deal with the sex we had last night?" she asked, deflecting from any more touchy subject matter. _What kind of sex will we need to have tomorrow to deal with what happened today..._

"No. We had angry sex to deal with the fact that we were angry. Dealing with last night came on its own."

She had nothing to say to that, content with the silence. He was right about so many things, and for the first time she had no problem with that. She wasn't sure how long she had been zoning out, but it must have been a while, for by the time she tuned back into reality Jareth had inched up next to her, and was apparently investigating her wellbeing.

"How do you feel?" he asked. She looked over like she had no idea he was there.

"Um, fine."

His eyes glossed down her front, and he smiled softly.

"Good."

He leaned down to kiss her, his actions slow and gentle. His hair felt light and feathery again as it brushed against her chest, and the way his lips met hers was chaste and wholesome. She didn't understand why it made her so uncomfortable.

She looked at him strangely when he pulled away, but he didn't quite catch on. Something seemed off all of the sudden. Something in her gut was telling her no, but she didn't understand. She was fine with a blurred-line sex rampage but not a humble kiss? She furrowed her brow and turned away from him, and this time his expression mimicked hers.

"What's wrong?" he asked, and she shrugged as she covered her chest with her arms.

"Nothing, just...lot of stuff to think about, I guess..." Jareth frowned, not sure if it would be best to call her out. Not to say that he had been bluffing, but in all honestly, he hadn't expected her to take to his offer so easily. Now that he was calm, he knew just how fragile this state of agreement could be.

He leaned back a bit and kissed her shoulder, and again Sarah experienced a very anxious feeling.

"Don't take offense to this, really, don't, but...would you mind leaving?"

Jareth paused, his demeanor of tender appeasement turning to just what Sarah had pleaded against. He pulled away and stared down at her with a scowl.

"Why?" he asked, and she closed her eyes and bit her lip at the hint of hostility in his voice. Why? She wished she had the answer...

"All I wanted was for us to settle last night...and I believe we've done more than that...You don't need to stay here. I know you're busy, and I have to get back to Roldan and Mariella." Why she was the one recoiling after bitching about Jareth doing the exact same thing, she didn't know, but she knew she wouldn't be able to figure it out with him around. Something had turned her mood very sour very quickly, and something in the shadows of her mind whispered the cause.

It took a moment for Jareth to respond. He was suspicious of her attitude for sure, but he was also learning not to push his luck in times when it mattered. They had made up...hadn't they? Was he reading this whole thing wrong? Wasn't she perfectly fine all but two seconds ago? Women, he would never understand them. But she was right, he did have a lot to do today, and this past hour or so had set him back. Maybe it would be best to just appease her...

"Alright...but know that I won't see you much between now and the celebration...if you need anything, you'll have to call." He watched her intently as she nodded her head, but otherwise said nothing. Now feeling a sour on his own mood, he stood and dressed himself. Sarah peered over and caught him with his back to her and almost gasped at what she saw.

"Holy crap, Jareth, your back," she said and then looked over to where he once laid on the bed. As expected, it was smeared with blood. Jareth turned and caught his reflection in her vanity. She was right to gasp, it looked like someone had taken a lash to him and meant it. Oddly enough, it made him smile.

"You'll have that," he said, not bothering to pause before pulling on his boots.

"Are you okay?" she asked, and for some reason he was surprised she would be concerned after telling him to leave; maybe that's why she sounded so skeptical about it. He turned to glance over his back again and rolled his shoulders. The next moment all the open cuts were glowing before easily sealing themselves up. Only a few seconds later was his skin flawless as it always had been. Sarah remained silent. He shot her an eye before reaching down for his shirt; the look on her face made it clear that she was second-guessing her reaction, she was supposed to be coming off as cold and detached after all. He closed his eyes briefly and shook his head, whatever it was that was now bothering her, at least they both knew she was lying about it. He silently wondered at what point in time he had become so tolerant.

"You better be careful there, or one might think you're actually concerned about me," he said and turned to leave, making it clear that he was pouting for having been told to leave in the first place. Sarah sat up on her knees; whatever confusion was going around in her head right now, she didn't want it to ruin the repose this wild little impulse had surprisingly given them, after all he was heeding her request -something she hadn't actually expected him to do; though it wasn't until he had nearly rounded the corner that she found the words to speak.

"Jareth?" she called out. He stopped and glanced back. "Thank you...for being honest with me...for being able to admit that you were afraid. That means a lot to me." He turned a fraction, the urge to stay with her tugging at him that much harder, but she looked down into her knotting hands before the connection could be made, and strangely enough, she smiled. "And I am concerned about you...why else would I be so mad all the time?" When she looked back up the smile came with her, though it was faint, and she shrugged. Jareth stared at her, good and hard, trying his upmost best to figure out what the fuck was going on inside that crazy feminine head of hers; but alas, maybe this is what she meant when she said she couldn't ever figure him out either. He rose his brow and shook his head then, they really were all _too_ similar.

"Enjoy the rest of your day," he said and quietly left the room.

  



	83. Give and Take part 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While unbeknown to her, Sarah has succeeded in obtaining the one thing the Goblin King has desired for hundreds of years -power over the Labyrinth. After being hidden for years from his diabolical wrath, Sarah finds herself alone and vulnerable as Jareth's dark desires are finally aloud to rear their ugly heads. As always, the only question is, are things really as they seem?

The windows of the drawing room were tall and wide, their curtains forever pulled back allowing the glow of the sun to breach them at its leisure. The sun was nowhere near high enough to be seen when they'd first arrived, but now light beamed into the room, the intensity of the rising sun being a constant reminder of the passing time; it's harsh rays, which illuminated all, bringing warmth and life to the dreariness of the castle, now served as Roldan's current excuse for why he was scowling so intently.

"I see you're going with Wide Grandora's...oh! and being paired with Black Sickleberries and Labyros, that will be beautiful! I can just picture it now."

After Sarah and Jareth's rude departure, Roldan had resorted to his new default setting of glowering ominously, however that hadn't stopped Mariella from entertaining herself.

"Hm...ten thousand? That's an awful lot, isn't it? Especially when they have such a short shelf life. Do you think they'll be able to last throughout the evening? I've heard they wilt after but two hours or so...Hm? Master Roldan?"

Roldan wasn't much of a talker when no one important was around, or so Mariella gathered; but she didn't mind his silence, after all he hadn't stopped her from snooping. But what could she do? His Majesty had just left all the plans for the celebration laying there on the table. How could she not peek through!

"Two hours huh? I believe that's precisely how long we've been waiting."

Mariella frowned. Roldan was sitting across from her at the table, his arms tightly crossed and his eyes glued to the clock. She understood that he was an impatient man, but this was certainly nothing to get worked up over.

"You shouldn't trouble yourself. Look at it this way, you've had two whole hours to yourself." He glared up at her and that pleasant smile. It irked him the way she was always so positive, but it irked him even more how she seemed to be holding a torch to _Sarah and Jareth _when he'd rather be using it to burn them down.

"Two hours of waiting. Only a silly woman like yourself could be happy with prolonging your day by waiting on someone else's foolishness."

Mariella shrugged and looked away, content to continue flipping through party plans.

"I'd rather be a silly woman than be miserable all the time..." she mumbled, knowing he couldn't help but look up. She kept her eyes on the paper. "So...did you design these arrangements or did His Majesty?" Roldan stared at her for a moment, before giving up and slouching back in his seat.

"The roses are customary of course...I suggested the Grandora, Jareth the sickleberry."

He watched Mariella nod as she flipped to the next page.

"I see...a brilliant collaboration then. I can see you two work well together, no wonder he has you so close to his side. Oh! And it's going to be held at Grossven Lodge? Lord Davion has told me about it. It's absolutely beautiful is it not?"

"Yes, it is one of the better parts of the kingdom."

"And what's this about...a courtyard? Is there no ballroom?" she asked. Roldan shifted again, begrudgingly coming out of his funk.

"The Grossven courtyard is more magnificent than any ballroom, I can assure you." he said, eyeing Mariella curiously as she began to tap a finger against her lip.

"I do not doubt it...and I suppose a lodge would be the perfect outfit for such an occasion...an appropriate atmosphere...and better to fill rooms there than at the castle...am I right?" she asked, cautiously. Roldan didn't seem to notice she was setting the stage.

"Yes...Jareth has a strange manner when it comes to privacy. He would have my head if I attempted to host the Conquest here. It's bad enough he doesn't trust anyone, let alone thousands of anyones who are drunk and confused over their dance partners."

Mariella paused for just a second.

"And...you don't think Sarah will get confused over her dance partner?" she asked.

"What do you mean?" he countered. Mariella put down her paper and folded her hands over the table.

"Forgive me but...I've been here several days now and have been present during all of Sarah's _dance lessons_, and I can't help but notice you haven't told her why she is learning them or what they mean." Roldan was hesitant to respond, so she continued. "I'm just concerned that should she not be informed she may do or say something she shouldn't and get herself and us all into a great deal of trouble. And what's even worse...if she finds out too late..her reaction could be..."

"Luckily that is none of our concern." Mariella glanced up to find Roldan looking all stiff and serious again. "Jareth has strictly forbade me from informing her on such things. He wants to handle it himself, whenever he chooses to do so."

"I see..." Mariella's cheerful mood was fading at this peculiar reveal. His Majesty wanting to inform her himself she could understand, but waiting so close to the ball was just...careless. After her and Sarah's conversation in the hall, she was sure she would need some time to wrap her head around it all before being flung straight into it. But, like Roldan said, It was none of their concern, especially if his Majesty had ordered it... But, since they were on the topic anyway... "So...they have been gone quite a while, haven't they?" she asked, apparently trying to change the conversation, though this new direction wasn't any better in his mind.

"Yes, I would say so. If he's going to drag her off like this I'd at least appreciate him relieving me of this stupid obligation so I can get some real work done."

"You don't think grooming the next Queen of your beloved kingdom is real work?" she asked, her sincerity making Roldan shift about uncomfortably. "I think it to be a great honor to be in your position."

"A great honor? Try great burden. You've seen the way she is. Educating her is excruciating."

"Ah, but she has gotten a great deal better no? And in such a short time. I think the progress you've made is more than can be expected. She's passed every test superbly. Sure, she might not be the most agreeable nor cooperative pupil, but who is?"

Roldan rolled his eyes and rubbed his forehead.

"Why are you rooting for her so adamantly? You can't possibly tell me she'll make a good Queen. Look at what she's done to Jareth! I've never seen him in such a shamble. He needs someone who will support him, not take every opportunity to try and strike him down."

"Maybe that's the point."

Roldan glared at that, the scowl now firmly rooted to his face.

"What?"

"You asked me to look at what she has done to His Majesty, and I have been. Yes, he may appear to be in shambles, but have you wondered why he puts up with it?"

"Yes. Every day."

"Well, Master Roldan, your description of a Queen is really just another subordinate, wouldn't you say? When maybe what he wants is a companion."

Again Roldan rolled his eyes and even groaned.

"Oh, not you too..." he said, becoming exasperated with the sheer ridiculousness of all these people.

"This idea bothers you?" she asked. Roldan rose a brow at that.

"Bothers me? What bothers me is how in the world he could choose her. He wants a companion? Fine. But I can't possibly fathom what quality about her he finds so mesmerizing. He's had hundreds of women to choose from and he picks one who resents and despises him? One who does not even want to be in this world let alone rule it, so how could she possibly do so? He's making himself miserable over breaking the saddle, and once he does he'll be off looking for the next challenge, only this time when he tries to run away he'll find two shackles around his feet and a hateful bore throwing lashes with his own whip." And he huffed and he puffed and he threw himself back in his chair, shaking his head and grumbling under his breath. Mariella sat patiently, immune to all his negativity.

"Okay...let me propose something-"

"Oh, let me guess, your woman's intuition knows all?" he said, mockingly. Mariella tisked him.

"Who are you to judge whether or not His Majesty is miserable? Yes he is angry with her often, but if it really bothered him don't you think he would have taken action?"

"Hopefully that's what he's doing now."

"I also think you're greatly underestimating His Majesty's wit. What if instead of craving the challenge, he craves the prize it will bring him?" she asked. Roldan huffed and glared away, not wanting to admit what was so obviously in front of him. "That in itself is a challenge that will last for all eternity; putting it bluntly and to be completely honest, I believe His Majesty is in love with Sarah." Roldan gave her a very nasty look, but again Marie was simply impervious. "What? Do you have another explanation for such _irrational _behavior?"

"Jareth doesn't love anything but himself."

"Then it makes even more sense, doesn't it?" she asked. Roldan's confusion looked painful.

"How does what make any sense?" he asked.

"At least loving himself means he recognizes the emotion. And if he loves himself, that means his love is selfish, which would explain why he isn't deterred by Sarah's...opposition, wouldn't you say?"

As irritating as it was, Mariella was starting to make sense; but Roldan was stubborn and was not about to let something like this go so easily.

"Playing hard to get is one thing, but I just can't fathom how he could fall for That, especially when he has had so much better," he grumbled. Mariella, now growing bored of his disgruntlement, shrugged and went back to skimming papers.

"It's a good thing he's the one in love with her then, and not you. The thing about love, Master Roldan, is you're not the one who needs to understand it, they are. And if you can't understand it, how can you possibly rebut it?"

"Oh, because you know so much about love," he said, snarkily, in obvious reference to Marie's vast past endeavors.

"And you do?" she countered.

Now that made him flinch. He paused and sat up a little straighter, and it was obvious to Mariella that whatever came next would be in defense of some deep dark shameful secret. Hm, maybe he did know a thing or two.

"I know how to recognize love, yes; and I'm sorry, but the way those two treat each other is not love." Yup, clearly defensive. Mariella eased back and pondered his mannerisms, debating whether or not it was something she wanted to pursue. Lord Davion hadn't asked her to dig up on Roldan, but it might be a nice treat.

"To you maybe. Just because that's not how you would love someone doesn't mean that's not how they would. Look at it this way, if they work all the bugs out now, they'll be golden from then on out."

"Yes, if they don't kill each other first..."

"Who's killing who?"

Both Roldan and Mariella glanced back to find Sarah gently closing the door behind her. Both Fae were surprised, Roldan for not having heard her enter and Mariella to see that she was wearing a different dress than when she'd left. They straightened up a bit as she approached the table, and to Sarah it seemed like she'd caught them in the middle of something naughty.

"Sarah, you're back!" Marie said, clapping her hands together and standing so Sarah could take her seat.

"Two hours later," Roldan grumbled, eyeing her down viciously. Sarah joined them at the table with a smile.

"Yeah...sorry about that," she said, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear. Mariella took the chair beside her and began examining immediately.

"You've changed your gown. Did something happen?" she asked, her interest perhaps too forward. Sarah rose her brow and shrugged awkwardly.

"Uhmm...no. We...argued a bit. But it's fine now," she said, her lie wavering on the tip of her tongue. Mariella rose a questioning brow. Roldan couldn't have cared less.

"You argued. Splendid. You were gone for two hours, have wasted both mine and Mariella's morning, just so Jareth could give you a lecture. Top notch discipline, like always." Roldan stood and moved away from the table, grumpy as always. Sarah frowned and glanced down, contemplating what would be best to do.

After Jareth had left, she thought about just staying in her room, but after a while realized that keeping busy would be the best thing. She had to clean and redress herself of course, and that took some time. She'd thought about how to explain the change in attire, but apparently the best explanation was no explanation at all. She wondered where Jareth had gone...

"_Sarah-_"

Sarah glanced over at Mariella, who had whispered in her ear sneakily as Roldan went off to gather what ever he had planned for her today.

"Hm?"

"Is everything okay? You don't have to tell me of course...but I gather that whatever this morning was about had to do with last night...and you've changed your gown, which means the other one was ruined somehow. Are you alright?" She looked Sarah hard in the eye as she spoke, hoping her serious face and whisper voice would make her answer more truthfully. Sarah bit her lip.

"Yeah...I'm fine. I just...need to be distracted right now. Can we talk about it later?" she asked, eyeing Roldan out of her peripheral as he made his way back. Mariella smiled in victory.

"Only if you promise," she said and leaned back when Roldan dropped a pile of binders on the table.

"What ever you're whispering about, enough. Now that you're back we have a lot of time to catch up on, got it?" he said, starting to organize each binder in some order. Mariella helped by collecting the rest of Jareth's forgotten paperwork. Sarah's eyes caught on a sheet and recognized some of the wording.

"Hey...what's that?" she asked. Mariella peered down and smiled.

"The plans for your celebration. Master Roldan allowed me to peek through them while you were gone, and let me say, you will not be disappointed."

Sarah didn't respond to that. She remained perfectly still, her eyes cast downward as she thought something over.

"Roldan?" she said, her expression only mildly uncomfortable as she peered up to him. He didn't return the glance, but hummed his acknowledgement. "I want to apologize for this morning. I know how bad my behavior was." Now that caught his interest. He stopped what he was doing and looked over to her. Sarah took a gulp of confidence.

"You do?" he asked, mockingly.

"Yes...I'm sorry to have put you and Marie in such an awkward position like that...but I had no choice. Jareth and I needed to discuss something, and I knew he wouldn't unless he was forced to...so I figured if I made a scene he would remove us from it so we could talk...I know you think little of me, but I do know the implications of how I act, and I want you to know that I would never act like that in front someone who mattered -someone to whom my behavior mattered that is."

For a moment, Roldan was honestly struck speechless. His initial reaction was to call her out but the look in her eye said she was completely sincere, and this was doubly irking in face of the course of conversation he and Mariella had just finished. He placed his hand on one of the binders and sat down.

"I'm also sorry for making you guys wait so long. I wasn't sure if you would wait or go about your day. I was kinda hoping you wouldn't be here. I feel bad now."

"Oh, Sarah, it's no worry at all! Right, Master Roldan?" Mariella's urging was directed with the most candid of glances, but Roldan knew she was proving her point. _Yes, Sarah has made progress_, his thoughts grumbled, his angry stare echoing defeat.

"Right...I suppose not...so long as you understand the limitations of your outbursts," he warned. She nodded. "Good. But before we move on with our day may I ask what sort of condition you left our King in?" he asked and quirked a brow when Sarah suddenly stiffened. Roldan didn't pick up on its significance, but Mariella did.

"Condition? Wh-what do you mean?" she asked, suspiciously. There was no way he knew right? Of course not. She brushed her hair, changed her dress, washed herself off. Why was she so paranoid?

"What I mean is, do I have to prepare myself for his retaliation later this evening? Or were you able to square things out?" he asked, impatiently. Mariella pursed her lips, hiding her grin as she eyed Sarah down, who only continued to fidget in her seat. Apparently, Sarah's chemical shield was back to operating at full capacity. Roldan didn't have a clue.

"Um, it's fine. Everything is fine. He's fine. I think..." She looked away uncertainly, to which Roldan sighed and rolled his eyes.

"Good. Now that that's all settled, might we begin our lesson?"

"Hm? Oh, yes. Please," Sarah said, her eagerness only raising slight suspicion. Roldan eyed her down, but quickly lost interest and moved on.

"I'm sure you're aware that your wedding celebration is the day after tomorrow...In final preparation, I've devised a type of test for you to see how well you've learned the aristocracy."

"Um...okay..." Sarah watched intently as Roldan then moved to open one of the binders, and was a little surprised to see a series of pictures lining each page.

"As I've also told you, all guests will address you firstly, and never speak directly to Jareth while he is beside you or unless you give explicit permission. I understand this is intimidating for you, so we need to be sure you can recognize the "who"s who before they approach you."

"Um, yeah, got it. But you said this is a test. How can you test me on faces I've never seen before?" she asked, furiously scouring each little picture and panicking at the thought of failing.

"Because I'm not testing you on knowing faces. I'm testing you on your power of observation," he said and flipped to a specific page which showcased six portraits of males. Sarah furrowed her brow. "I want you to look carefully at each page I show you and use the knowledge of the kingdoms we've studied to tell me which one is the person I ask for."

"Oh how fun!" Mariella burst out, bouncing in her seat and eagerly leaning over the table. Sarah glanced over at the display, not feeling nearly the same amount of enthusiasm.

"No cheating," Roldan said, pointing at Mariella, who pouted and sat back down in her seat. Sarah studied the page closely. "Alright. One person who will be approaching you is King Alexsielee. I can tell you now that he will be very eager to meet you, so you best know who he is."

Sarah took that as her cue to go and brought the binder closer to inspect.


	84. Give and Take part 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While unbeknown to her, Sarah has succeeded in obtaining the one thing the Goblin King has desired for hundreds of years -power over the Labyrinth. After being hidden for years from his diabolical wrath, Sarah finds herself alone and vulnerable as Jareth's dark desires are finally aloud to rear their ugly heads. As always, the only question is, are things really as they seem?

"Um...Well...King Alexielee reigns over the kingdom of Meyhaven and is one of the eight council seats of Orpia...um...The native peoples of Meyhaven are known for their fair skin and hair and oddly colored eyes...They are also known for their splendor, often symbolized by gold and gold accessories...And apparently they're known for their unicorns as well...so...I think...that would mean...this guy is him," she said and pointed to a portrait of a man fitting all of those descriptions. The others were close, but were missing a detail here and there. The man she picked was very regal looking, serious and elegant. His hair was as white as his skin and his eyes were deep red. The gold trim and jewelry practically falling off of him was a bit of a give away as well, but most convincing of all was the sigil on his headband -the sun- a symbol of "golden radiance" and all that Meyhaven was known for. None of the other candidates had that sigil. She looked up to Roldan for his verdict.

Roldan stared at her oddly for a moment, wondering what in the world unicorns had to do with anything; that's when he recalled the one Jareth had recently procured, though he didn't know how Sarah would know anything about it. He chose to dismiss it however, as he did with all her other oddities.

"...Very good. Now try to remember that. I will give you a book at the end with the correct names and faces for you to look over between now and then. Try the next page." she flipped the next page. "Alright, find me Lady Maruna." Sarah's eyes scanned carefully.

"Hm...Lady Maruna...let's see...she's the Queen of Jeju; but actually she's the Queen Regent for her son Mathias who is too young to take the throne. Her husband Alyore, the king, died a few years ago of a...um...something..."

"He was poisoned, but you don't need to worry about that."

"Okay...well...Jeju is big on agriculture right? And they do a lot of trading with Parlnah, and you once said that she is part Parlnese...which are Elves...so...Hm..."

This one was tougher. All the women on this page looked very similar, the only real difference being their ages. She tried to look for markers on their clothing, but again the only thing different between them was style and she didn't know anything about that. She pursed her lips and scowled.

"How are Elves different from Fae again?" she asked.

"Fae are more powerful. We have stronger magic."

"Physically I mean," she clarified. Roldan smirked at her struggle but she was too focused to humor his mockery.

"They have pointier ears," he said, sarcastically. Sarah rolled her eyes, you couldn't see any of the women's ears in these pictures. After a moment of frustration, her eyes narrowed on one portrait in particular and went on a whim.

"That one," she said, pointing to said frame. Roldan looked over and rose an eyebrow, though she wasn't sure what that meant.

"Why do you think it's that one?" he asked. If he was aiming to poke a hole in her resolve, his tone was spot on. Sarah continued to bite her lip as she stared at the picture, hoping it might call out to her.

"She looks impatient," she said. Both Roldan and Mariella looked up at her quizzically.

"What?"

"The other women...they either look bored or content, but this one looks mildly annoyed. I imagine that is the look someone gets after having to raise a child by themselves." She met Roldan's gaze with total assurance, which was only strengthened by the confused and disgruntled look in his eye. Mariella grinned and patted Sarah on the shoulder.

"See Master Roldan, our women's intuition really does know all," she said, bringing a small grin of victory to Sarah's face as she realized she was right. Roldan shook his head and flipped the page.

"You guessed and got lucky. Don't count on it again or you'll end up regretting it. Telling Maruna you recognized her by her sour demeanor will not earn you any favor." Sarah glanced down as Roldan ranted, pretending to be scolded, but the truth was she was fairly confident in her abilities with or without luck. "Next is Faris d'Ion."

"Faris d'Ion, or _Faris of Iron_, ruler of the Ironmey, renown for it's jagged cliffs, cold salty waters and generally inhospitable environment. For its name, the Ironmey gulf supplies half of Orpia with its bottomless iron and mineral mines and provides the northern and central lands with plenty of fresh seafood. It is also home to the largest commercial boating and trade company in Orpia, facilitating business to both Parlnah and Ognioux -if I'm remembering correctly," she said, trying to impress present parties with her impressive capacity for retention. "Knowing all that...I'd say the people there have just as much grit as the land, and if they're all miners, welders and fishermen, then I doubt they care for delicate adornments like they do in Meyhaven right?"

"Inferring stereotypes already?" Roldan teased.

"Isn't that what this test is? Only three of these guys look tough enough and only two look distempered enough. I remember you said Faris succeeded his father a few decades ago, and with the way you people age, I'm guessing he's still rather young looking; so I'm going to have to go with this one" she said, pointing to a man looking to be in his late teens, black hair, blue eyes, with a look that said even though he was raised in a castle he could meld steel and battle a ship through a hurricane just as well as the finest Smith or Admiral just because he felt like it. Of all the angry looking fellows on this page, this kid looked like he had the most gusto of them all, which made him a better candidate than most.

She could tell she was right by the impatience quietly gnawing at her teacher.

Roldan huffed and flipped to the next page.

"Well, let's see how far that intuition will get you this time. Show me Bezaleel."

Hmm..._Lord Bezaleel_...Though they hadn't spent much time on him or his country, Sarah knew in her gut he was a man not to be trifled with. He ruled over the Shadowlands, and from the way Roldan spoke about that place, it was not for the weak of any kind. For being so old and prevalent, there still wasn't much known about the Shadowlands, hence its name. It was the region to the far north of Orpia, the land there only hospitable to the most hardy of beasts, let alone men. Apparently, when the kingdom of Orpia first split, it wasn't even considered a real kingdom, it was simply the land that no one else wanted. Even when it was under Orpus's rule, there were only a handful of stationed outposts to keep an eye on things, but nature ran so wild that not even the magics of the Fae could get it under control. The creatures that lived there were fearsome and the men even more so for choosing to stay. It wasn't until a Fae by the name of Beyza came along and decided to stake a claim to it that any manner of civilization was formed.

Shortly after his ascendence, Beyza closed off the borders of the Shadowlands, casting the beasts and his people into mystery. It hadn't been until recently, meaning within the past several hundred years, that the domain of the Shadowlands immersed itself back into Orpian society. Lord Bezaleel, descendent of Beyza, was the first to really open up to the outside world, contracting trade with the other nations, allowing foreign visitation and even the export of his legendary beasts for game and collection. From Roldan's description, he was a quiet fellow but by no means shy- his reclusiveness having the power to draw attention by his very presence alone. He was both feared and respected among the court, and if the dozen or so of the most powerful beings in the world were wary of him, then Sarah knew she should be down right terrified.

She pulled back the book and looked over the page until she found a man who looked as scary as she thought he would be.

"Is it him?" she asked, and became concerned when Roldan smiled.

"No. Try again."

She kept her eye on him for a moment, growing even more concerned at how patient and calm he suddenly was. She had expected him to jump down her throat for messing up. She looked over the page again.

"...Is it...this guy?" she asked, skeptically. Unlike the others, all the _men_ on this page were dressed exactly the same and all looked very intimidating. The only thing that stood out to her were their ages. Some men were older while others were very, _very_ young. That didn't quite make sense to her.

Roldan's smile broadened.

"Nope."

This time Sarah scowled, scouring the page viciously this time. She honestly had no idea, but something about her choices was amusing Roldan.

"Alright, I give up. You got me this time. I picked the two scariest dudes on the page, so can you tell me what's got you so smug?"

"You can't go about this strictly through stereotypes, you know. You did well with Alexsielee, picking out cues from his attire not just race, but people from the Shadowlands aren't like those from any other part of Orpia," he said and began to turn the binder so they both could look at it. "We don't know much of anything about them, the physical land, how the race has evolved -how nature has evolved. Most of the other kingdoms have developed their own native derivatives of the Fae race: Meyhaven's are fair, Masochists have merged with nymphs, Jejuans have pointy ears, etcetera; but we don't know who or what has been breeding up there and the few consultants and ambassadors sent down to court hardly serve as an ample precedent. I am of course inflecting this towards your inhibited case, as I already know Bezaleel and I happen to know that every Fae to emerge from the Shadowlands has looked completely different from one another. None of these factors are very helpful to you."

"Gee, thanks," Sarah said, sardonically and slouched in her seat.

"Oh, but don't give up now. Here, I'll give you one more chance. You've already eliminated two," he said and turned the book back towards her. Sarah sighed and leaned forward.

Minus the two she'd chosen, there were six worthy candidates left. Two of them looked like the two she'd eliminated, so she figured it wasn't one of them. Though the remaining four left her quite befuddled. Two looked to be somewhere around her age, one she was pretty sure was a girl and the other couldn't be more than twelve. Roldan had told her to not use stereotypes...maybe it was the girl?

She was highly hesitant in her answer.

"Is it...that one?"

Mariella's eyes flickered from the paper to Sarah and then over to Roldan in anticipation. She was just as eager for this answer as Sarah was, as she had never had the privilege of seeing Lord Bezaleel face to face, though the rumors were certainly interesting. Roldan answered Sarah's question with an unreadable stare before sighing and shaking his head.

"If you're struggling this much already, it's going to be a very long day," he said and pointed to the correct picture.

* * *

Jareth's fingers tapped steadily against the desktop as he carefully read the book laid out in front of him. He'd checked this spell five times now, but he was still unsure; it'd never been done after all, and there was no real way of testing it. He was in the library now; after leaving Sarah, he'd suffered through several meetings and sorted through several ordeals, but it wasn't until now that he'd found any sort of down time to just sort paperwork. However, that was boring and the book was nearby, might as well use the recluse to double-triple-check that everything was as it should be.

From the way he scoured the pages, one might think the inscription had changed, but it was exactly the same as the last time he'd read it, and the time before that, and the time before that. If anyone had wondered what he had been up to those days he spent away from Sarah...well, he had definitely kept busy.

His fingers tapped slower as his concentration on the book increased, and his lack of attention on the table caused the golden chain he was so carefully guarding to slither off the desk. He caught it instantly of course, and just in time as the door to the library suddenly opened. He slid the trinket into his pocket and magically sent the book back to its hiding place. He looked up, and for a moment was actually worried that it might be Sarah.

Roldan entered quietly, relieved yet wary to have finally found him. Despite the setback, his lesson with Sarah had ended a bit early; he would never admit it, but she really was a good learner. The last he knew she had been mumbling something to Mariella about seeing the courtyard: apparently, Jareth had let her outside at some point and it blew his mind that he trusted her enough to go out without a proper chaperone. Mariella was plenty competent, but she was still a stranger and could hardly be trusted. With the way her interest in Sarah was turning and her association with Davion, he couldn't help but grow suspicious.

After the women left, he realized Jareth's papers were still there and not everything had been sorted through. Personal issues aside, the celebration was in two days and these forms needed to be signed off on. As he walked from office to study, he couldn't help but think of he and Mariella's conversation; what a vexing little voice of conscience she was turning out to be. Though the more he thought about it, the more he wondered why it bothered him so much, why he cared the way he cared. Inadvertently, this made his search for Jareth more focused, and he wondered if he was truly eager or secretly reluctant to find him in whatever state Sarah had left him in. The sense of trepidation that hit him upon opening the door however, made him realize that he was indeed reluctant.

"Did you need something?" Jareth asked, his tone making it obvious that he was intruding. Roldan approached the desk and quickly scanned over its contents, though nothing stood out as suspicious. That's when it hit him that he was actually suspicious of Jareth, and immediately scowled with shame. There had never been reason to second guess him, ever, so the fact that he was doing it now... "Well?"

Roldan tuned out of his daze to find Jareth staring at him intently. Apparently, he hadn't answered quick enough and it seemed there was something the King would much rather be getting back to. Roldan furrowed his brow and set the remaining folders on the desk between them.

"We never finished signing off on these. I figured it would be best to just get it out of the way as soon as possible," he said, strictly keeping his gaze from Jareth's, though he didn't realize it was on purpose.

Jareth kept his eyes on him a moment longer. There was something off about Roldan since that morning and he debated whether or not to find out what. He'd been trying Jareth's patience with all his grumpiness lately, so maybe this was nothing to concern himself with; however, he was curious to see how Sarah had acted after sending him away and he had an annoying little inkling that the best way to do that was to find out whatever heartache was currently plaguing his trusty number 2. He kept his hand in his pocket as he mulled this over, fiddling with the trinket hidden inside, but reluctantly let it go and reached out for a folder.

"I see...and I don't suppose this little foray has anything to do with checking up on me?" he asked, pretending to read as he spoke, though observing Roldan's mannerisms out of his peripheral as he signed one dotted line after another. After a moment of prolonged silence he peered up to find Roldan glaring down at him viciously.

"The fact that you try to assume my intentions means that you do indeed need checking up on," he retorted, holding Jareth's gaze until he had his full attention, though the attention he received wasn't quite as expected.

There was a flicker of dastardliness in Jareth's eyes and a sly grin curled one side of his lips, signaling that whatever challenge had been secretly brooding between them had somehow been met. Roldan became worried then, wondering what could have triggered Jareth's awful sense of playfulness...

"Says you," Jareth said, teasingly, his mysterious smile growing as he turned back to his papers, leaving Roldan to guess at whatever joke was being held at his expense this time, and worrying further about the King's more than good mood.

"I assume you want to know of Sarah's behavior once she returned from your _Scolding_," he said, his confidence earning him yet another peering glance.

"The fact that you assume _my intention_ means that it is really yours to tell me," Jareth countered, his voice holding that odd sense of playful seriousness that only he could emit. Roldan's scowl cemented. It was the only look he wielded which stood a chance against Jareth's connivery. There were only two instances when Jareth looked at him like that: when he was in a genuinely good mood, or when he was extremely pissed off and planning something foul. But to Roldan it didn't necessarily matter which, for treading one while questioning the other were equally dangerous. Although, knowing would help figure out what was going on with him and Sarah...

"She seemed just fine when she returned. A bit flighty, perhaps too attentive, but who am I to say?" he said, with slight exasperation and over emphasized with a much unneeded hand gesture. Jareth paused for a moment, as if he were pondering his words carefully, something which had Roldan growing more impatient than curious.

"...Are you sure?" he asked, and if Roldan weren't mistaken he would say he heard a sense of concern in his voice.

"She was perfectly pleasant, even apologized for her outburst. And if something were off in the beginning she was right as rain by the time I left. Judging by the look on your face, I'm not sure if you find this news relieving or worrying...but the fact that I can tell you're warring between the two at all has myself leaning towards the latter." Roldan said, though his analysis was received by nothing, and the fact that Jareth was blatantly ignoring him meant that he was close to striking a nerve. In a moment of frustration, he reached out and pulled the folder away from Jareth's scribbling hand, determined to hold it hostage until he was given his due. "What in blazes happened when you left?" he demanded, meeting him in the eye with firm determination as Jareth slowly looked up from the now blank tabletop.

"Give me back my paper, Roldan," Jareth warned, his voice low and absent the playful sarcasm of only a moment ago. Roldan clenched his jaw and stood his ground.

"Not until you tell me what's going on with you," he countered.

"Oh really?" Jareth stood straighter and ripped the folder from Roldan's hands, just to prove that he could and let it fall back to the desk without even glancing at it. "I think you've been spending too much time with Sarah, but don't for a second think that you can get away with demanding things of me."

"I might have to. Some one has to test whether or not you've lost your edge."

Now that was something he shouldn't have said, and yet Roldan knew all would be well. This wasn't the first time he'd gotten in Jareth's face about something, and in fact it was for this very reason that Jareth valued him as an asset. He knew how far he could push him, though his only fear now was since Sarah was involved, that line might be blurred.

  



	85. Give and Take part 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While unbeknown to her, Sarah has succeeded in obtaining the one thing the Goblin King has desired for hundreds of years -power over the Labyrinth. After being hidden for years from his diabolical wrath, Sarah finds herself alone and vulnerable as Jareth's dark desires are finally aloud to rear their ugly heads. As always, the only question is, are things really as they seem?

Jareth made a fist against the table and took a deep breath. After a moment, he straightened up and gave him a look of candid impatience.

"What do you want, Roldan? You know you can push my buttons all you want, but eventually you will regret it," he said, and Roldan gave an inner sigh of relief as he realized he still had a chance. He took a risk on Jareth being in a good mood; if he hadn't, he was sure that last comment would have earned him something nasty. Now that things were finally on a track, he turned and pulled up a chair, determined to find out exactly why he was in a _good mood_.

"When you took Sarah away this morning you were both absolutely furious, and yet she returned unscathed and in a finer mood than when she'd arrived. And I can't help but notice this is a recurring trend. Why?"

He waited patiently as Jareth begrudgingly took his own seat and turned to face him.

"And here I was hoping to enjoy my good mood. A better question is why do you care?" he asked.

"And an even better question than that is why are you deflecting?" Roldan countered. The two Fae stared at one another, measuring each other up, and both donning the same challenging sneer.

"You disapprove because I don't return her in a shriveling repentant heap." His tone made it sound more like a statement than a question, as if there was no need for answers. Both knew where this conversation was going.

"I don't care about the shriveling heap, but repentant would be nice. At least every now and again."

"You frown on my form of discipline. It has been duly noted. Is there anything new you wish to gripe at me about?" Though Jareth hid it well beneath his composure, he was growing more and more impatient with this discussion. He knew what Roldan wanted to say and was experiencing just the right amount of annoyance to let him say it. He watched as Roldan adjusted his posture.

"Why are you doing this?" he asked, without context of any kind. Jareth rose his brow, expecting there to be more to that question, but the way Roldan stared at him expectantly had him fishing for his own answer.

"Doing what?" he asked.

"This. All of this." Jareth shook his head then. They'd had this conversation about three times before and he'd grown tired of it the first time around.

"I assume by _all of this_, you are referring, _once again_, to my marrying Sarah?" he asked, perching his fingers against his temple.

"I'm referring to everything: your marriage, this spontaneity, your choice of bride, the way you act around her, the way you treat her, Hell, the way she treats you-" Roldan said, but had to stop himself before he got too worked up. Jareth was being calmer and more cooperative than usual and he needed to make sure he took full advantage of it, though that was strange in itself. "And why are you in such a fine mood? I have no idea what she was off ranting about this morning but you were angrier than I've seen you in a long time. Do you expect me to believe that you of all people made up just like that?"

"Yes, actually. I do."

The look on Roldan's face was near abhorrent. There were so many frustrating thoughts rolling around in his head it was getting hard to decide between them. All day he couldn't stop himself from thinking about the things Mariella said, about the way Sarah acted and all the things he didn't want to piece together. He knew deep down, but he...he couldn't. To admit it felt like a betrayal, and he wasn't even the one to whom it should matter..

"Why?" he asked, that one question encompassing so many others. Jareth relaxed a bit and calmed his features. He could tell Roldan was getting worked up already. They were getting close to the point of all this.

"I've told you, because I love her."

Those words made Roldan laugh on reflex and he shook his head in disbelief.

"Just because you say it doesn't make it true. I've known you my entire life; you could say that to me over and over again and I would believe you less and less each time."

"It's a good thing you're not the one who needs to believe me then," Jareth retorted, drawing a painful parallel to Mariella's earlier statement, and causing Roldan's smile to grow with ridiculous skepticism.

"And yet here you are. You say those words to me with such ease, with such surety. I bet you even pat yourself on the back when I'm not looking, don't you? But who are you trying to convince, Jareth? Me? Or yourself? Sarah can barely stand you, I doubt you would have such confidence when saying that to her face instead of mine. In fact, I doubt you've even told her at all. What was it she was calling you this morning? Should I be asking if there is any truth to that?"

The way Jareth's eyes narrowed just then let him know that this time he really had struck a nerve, but it was too late for the both of them. If Jareth didn't answer then he would be affirming Roldan's insult. Roldan eased forward a bit, determined to win this battle of wills against Jareth's icy stare.

"You're right," Jareth said, and paused. "...It is much easier to say it to you. It is much less risky to say it to someone who doesn't matter than to say it to the one person who does. I understand that you've just accused me of being a coward, now you must understand that I don't really care. If proving to you that I love her means admitting myself a coward then fine. You both win. But tell me, does that make you feel any better?"

Roldan was quiet for a moment as he contemplated Jareth's response. No matter what the venue, to Jareth everything was a game; whether it be something physical, a game of wits or of speech, he always managed to turn the tables, and this was no exception. Roldan would have never anticipated Jareth to own up to a fault, true or not. He wasn't sure if this was a display of humility or a calculated move. That's when something struck him as odd.

"Why is it so important for you to prove you love her?" he asked. Jareth would never admit a fault unless it was necessary, unless it was important. The Jareth he knew didn't need to prove anything to anyone. He didn't need to work to satisfy anyone. So why...what was it about this girl that made everything so different?

"Because eventually, I would like it if she loved me back," Jareth said, turning in his chair slightly as he glanced away and rested his mouth against his fist.

"Then why not just tell her? You two seem to be perfectly vocal about everything else," Roldan suggested, watching Jareth's mannerisms closely as they changed. He seemed to be sulking now, lost in serious thought.

"...Because I'm afraid that if I do that...she never will," he muttered, and the sense of forlorn inevitability in his voice had Roldan pulsating with unknown aggravation. He'd never heard Jareth speak like that, never seen him look so lonely and miserable, but instead of sympathy, seeing this kind of emotion on him had Roldan growing more and more outraged -not because he was feeling it now, but because he hadn't felt it before.

He sat up straighter and shook his head.

"Why in God's name are you so miserable?!" he asked, trying hard to suppress this agonizing vexation. Jareth looked up, only half-expecting such a reaction. Well, it seemed the point was imminent. "You've been fluctuating between happiness and utter woe so often lately I'm beginning to think there may be two of you running around here. So she doesn't love you, fine, who cares. You still have her. She is still yours. You have everything you need and yet you let her walk all over you-"

"You don't think I've asserted myself? You have no idea of the torments I've put her through." And from the pained look in his eyes it was obvious he was feeling guilty about it too. Roldan smiled again in spite of himself. This was just too much.

"Whatever it is, it hasn't been tormenting enough, that's for sure," he said, condescendingly and glanced away to continue shaking his head.

"Why? because she still has a will of her own? Maybe I'm getting tired of being the only one to chastise you."

"And here you are defending her! What a hypocrite. You want her to behave just as much as I do. If I didn't know any better I'd say you actually like the way she treats you!" He looked up anticipating Jareth to be offended, to get angry at his accusation; he never expected him to be so calm.

"And what if I do?" Jareth asked petulantly. Roldan leaned forward and narrowed his eyes.

"Then Mariella isn't the only one who should be labeled a masochist," he said. Jareth huffed and turned away from him.

"You say that as if it has anything to do with you."

"And you act as if that sort of behavior only impacts the two of you. You have a kingdom to run Jareth, how do you expect to do that when you're off tussling with her every waking moment?" Seriously, it was like arguing with a child. What the hell happened in the week he had been up north?

"What do you think I have you for?" Jareth asked, sarcastically. Roldan rolled his eyes.

"Oh please, your cheekiness will not work with me."

"What a shame, and here I was thinking I could sway your delicate sensibilities with nothing but my charming rhetoric. Silly me."

"Jareth. You're not taking this seriously. This line of behavior is neither healthy nor conducive. You love her, fine. You want something to spar with, fine. But she needs to be put in her place." This lecture was starting to get repetitive, and Jareth had had about enough of it.

"Ah, and here we come full circle. Back to telling me how disapproving you are of my form of discipline? I asked if you had anything new to gripe about," he said, and wove a dismissive hand through the air. Roldan frowned harder.

"What you're doing with her is just sheer irresponsibility."

"Oh really?" Jareth said, turning dramatically and leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. "See, here's the thing - I don't think you give a damn about what I'm doing with her. I think you're just upset because you want to be the one doing it." He steepled his fingers as he spoke and rose a haughty eyebrow in Roldan's direction before leaning back in his seat and settling too comfortably. Roldan paralleled him by sitting more rigid.

"How dare you. I would never-"

"Never what? Covet someone else's wife? No, not you Roldan. Not ever," Jareth said, scowling fiercely and giving him a very nasty glare as he turned his chair away again.

Roldan was quiet for a moment, slowly brooding with frustration. Jareth had thrown backhanded comments before, but never had he called Roldan out, and never had he been this forward about it. It was something everybody knew and yet still kept secret. But Jareth was running out of defenses, of course he would pick now to deal such a low blow; he knew exactly what impact it would have. Roldan looked down into his lap, trying to quell the knot in his stomach, but Jareth had no interest in such a display and huffed before looking away.

"Hmph, this is pathetic. You've been talking me in circles and with nothing to say. Your problem isn't Sarah, it's-"

"My problem is all this special treatment you're giving her. This is completely out of character. Unheard of. You haven't treated her the way she deserves, not once. I'm not an idiot. I know you Jareth. And I know you wouldn't treat her differently unless there was a reason, and don't tell me it's love. Ever since she arrived you've been secretive, absent-"

"And what do you know of what she _deserves_?" Jareth's interjection came with offense and an even angrier glare to match. Roldan kept his mouth shut. "Have you ever speculated that I treat her differently because that is _exactly_ what she deserves?" Roldan fisted his hands on his thighs, fighting the urge to say something he _would_ regret and let Jareth have his moment; he could sense he wasn't finished yet. "You've spent more time with Sarah than I have, but have you even taken a single moment to actually look at her? No, you haven't."

"I have indeed looked at her, Your Highness, though I can't help that what I have seen is sorely disappointing."

"Then what you are seeing is not her, but your own bitter disappointment."

It was silent again, each one of Jareth's comments coming with a harder snap. Roldan slouched a little, his frustration was going to get the better of him and he knew it would earn him defeat, and that's exactly what Jareth wanted. That's why he brought _her_ up. That's why he was suddenly more aggressive. He knew Roldan was getting close to uncovering something and this was just one big deflection. Roldan cursed himself under his breath for being so weak.

"...As a subject of this kingdom I have every right to be disappointed," he said, raising his own angered gaze up to Jareth's. If Jareth had the gall to bring _her_ into this, then he had no problem making _her_ the point.

"You really have some audacity. Five-hundred years and you're still pining."

"I'm still pining because you never did." Jareth huffed and rolled his eyes before throwing his hands up in the air with exasperation.

"Well, there it is, finally! The reason you can't stand Sarah isn't because of all the reasons she's awful, it's because of all the reasons why she isn't. This has never had anything to do with Sarah. You just can't stand the fact that _she's gone _and you're the only one who ever cared."

"You're a bastard, you know that Jareth?"

"And you need to get over yourself."

The sheer hostility in Jareth's voice would have been enough to crush what was left of Roldan's will if it hadn't been crushed already. Five-hundred years of pining...only to waste it all in a weak moment of protest. Maybe Jareth was right. Maybe this had nothing to do with Sarah at all.

"You can't possibly expect me to accept that you care more for this human than you did for her."

"Yes, I can. And I don't see what the problem is anyway. If I had cared more, well...you would have never really had a chance, now would you? Your current misery stems from the blind eye I turned five-hundred years ago. Are you regretting it now?" The more Jareth spoke the more Roldan cringed. He was going out of his way to prove his point, though he'd much rather take a lashing than hear these ugly words.

"You never appreciated her, so how can you expect me to appreciate this one?"

"Because I am the King and you are a subject. Do you think I am a fool? Do you think for one moment that I let you have your little clandestine affair because I supported you? I did it because I supported her. I did it because it made _her_ happy. So before you go ahead and question feelings and motivations that you cannot possibly understand I propose you go take a good and long look at Sarah, see whatever you need to see, forget whatever you need to forget and _Get. Over. It._"

By this point Jareth was leaning forward in his seat and jabbing a claw-like finger into the desk top to emphasize his point. The livid blue of his eyes was truly that, his patience well past its limit. He'd known for a long time what Roldan was bottling up, though he hadn't had reason nor care to bother with it; but now that he knew it was the reason he was targeting Sarah a foot needed to be put down on the matter. The more he resented Sarah the more interested he would become, and that would eventually lead to suspicion and with all the other things jumbled on Jareth's plate, formulating new lies for Roldan's sake was not about to be one of them.

"...She loved you, you know? She would have done anything for you to just love her back."

But of course, he couldn't just let it go, could he? Jareth sighed hard and pinched the bridge of his nose as he scowled.

"You're resentful because I didn't love the woman you did? Your logic is dismaying, and you don't know half of what you think you know. Get out of my face before you irritate me any further," he said, waving him away without a second glance.

Roldan sat for a moment, waiting for something to happen but soon realized by his cold disdain that Jareth had declared this conversation over. He stood, clenching his fists at his sides and trying so hard not to make a scene as he sulked away; though he hadn't made it far before Jareth made his interjection.

"Roldan-" he called out, staring out at nothing and tapping his pen impatiently when Roldan turned to face him. "You say you knew her so well? That you knew her _feelings_? You claim that she loved me and would have done anything for me to love her back? Well, then you should be able to understand that _that_ is precisely how I feel about Sarah," he said and glanced downward, sighing heavily as he fiddled with his pen. "Perhaps...pretending to acknowledge that will help you to see _who she is_ instead of _who she is not_." The twitching of his pen stopped and he glanced up slightly, though not at Roldan. He didn't say anything more after that, but his sobering tone conveyed the truth of his less than coldheartedness. And as Roldan turned away for the second time, he peered back as he opened the door and the vision before him marked a spot in his memory: that of a room, whose silence was suffocating, a room full of bitter shadows which masked its loneliness, and Jareth -staring out at nothing and yet seeing a myriad of feelings and motivations that he couldn't possibly understand, and he realized in that moment...He realized that...maybe..._he does love her after all_.

* * *

"Sarah?! Is this all really necessary?"

"Haha of course! It's in the rules, isn't?"

"But -but they're so...filthy."

Sarah laughed freely as she watched Mariella struggle to escape her current situation. There were Goblins everywhere: hanging from her arms, climbing up her dress, trying to sift through her hair. It was all quite a shamble really; one Sarah would have saved her from...if she wasn't so sure that Mariella was secretly enjoying herself.

"They're not that bad. What are you even complaining about? You're winning!"

Sarah's smile beamed in a way she thought was lost to her. Cheering Mariella on, finally being able to kick back and relax under the sun again, it all felt so simple.

"Am I? I still don't understand...why am I doing this again?" She glanced over to Sarah with pleading eyes, but was denied miserably when all Sarah could do was lean back and reach for her drink.

"Because I was already disqualified, remember? It's all up to you now. Go team humanoids!" She cheered mockingly, laughing to herself when Mariella sulked further.

For some reason, Sarah had left Roldan's lesson feeling surprisingly joyous. She'd done well on Roldan's exam and therefore wasn't dreading the two binders he'd given her to study. In fact, she kinda felt like celebrating. Mariella had never seen the grounds before, it was a beautiful day and they had gotten out early; after keeping herself cooped up in the castle for so long, there couldn't have been a more perfect time to exercise her newfound privileges.

Mariella was just as appreciative of the scape as Sarah had been, and it made her feel good to finally be able to be the one to show _her_ something. She explained the outside world (facilitating Jareth's own words) as if she had known all along rather than finding out just the day before, and walked with a pip in her step as Mariella examined with fresh curiosity while she was able to sit back and enjoy a long lost sense of familiarity.

"Team humanoids? That's a rather odd name, wouldn't you say?" Mariella asked, straining to keep her balance as she rolled the ball and then sighed with frustration when it actually hit its mark.

"I think it's a lovely name, My Lady." Sarah turned and shot a smile at the owner of the voice. Of course, since she was outside, alone, the Queen's Guard was immediately deployed, and Sarah couldn't have been happier to see Baldur once again; so much so that she urged the team to stay rather than have them hiding in the shadows. Introductions to _Lady Mariella_ were made, and after some brief small talk, one thing led to another and then another until all of the sudden once-faceless soldiers were playing Goblin-style botchy ball with the Queen herself!

Mariella was not so thrilled of course, but was a good sport about it, a very good sport actually as she was doing better than anyone. That's why Sarah ignored all her complaining, if she were really having a bad time, she would have made herself lose by now.

"Why thank you, Good Sir, but I believe I've asked you to call me Sarah." She spoke to Baldur with elegance and poise, a reflection of her pleasant mood, and took another sip of her drink. It was rather hot out today.

"Yes, of course. Forgive me Lady Sarah, it is just such a habit."

Baldur had chosen to stay out of the game, he was the Captain after all, therefore he needed to stay vigilant while the rest of his squad was competing. It hadn't taken long for Sarah to become disqualified and joined him on the bench. The object of the game was to roll the ball to the mark as close as possible, however after each turn another Goblin was added to throw you off balance. Sarah, clumsy already, lost out after only three turns. Mariella was up to seven now, and it didn't seem like she was about to falter any time soon. Goblins of all kinds pulled her this way and that, but somehow she managed to hit every mark. Sarah wrote it off to her supernatural athleticism and happily resigned to the cheering squad with Baldur.

"Oh, fine throw Lady Marie!" Baldur exclaimed. Marie's remaining opponents consisted of three other Goblins, well, more like Dwarves. They were larger than the others, like Baldur, and proper soldiers; but even they were starting to wobble. Sarah had her money on Mariella for sure.

"Could we take a break?" Marie asked, desperately. She was starting to feel over-exerted from managing all these ragamuffins. Sarah smiled but shook her head.

"Nope, giving you time to rest would be cheating, wouldn't it Baldur?" Sarah asked, playfully.

"Yes, it would indeed Lady Sarah."

"Hm, I see...well, how about this, I'll put a straw in your drink and hold it for you, how's that? Is that allowed Sir Baldur?"

"Whatever thy Lady wishes, of course," Baldur said, bowing low while Sarah snickered. Mariella's dismay was comical.

"Um, what is a straw?" she asked, almost falling over from that split second of distraction. The other Goblins grumbled when she caught herself.

Sarah smiled as she reached for Mariella's glass. When they first arrived, Sarah had realized it might be a good idea to go back and get her bell, but whenever Sarah wanted something it seemed to conveniently appear on its own. She wondered if someone else was watching and catering to their needs, but she realized that many of her requests were made through thought alone. She didn't bother reading into this however, after all, could it really be that important?

By the time she took hold of Marie's glass a straw had appeared. She rose from the patio table they were sitting at and stood next to Marie so she could take a sip.

"Hm, what an interesting contraption," Mariella said, leaving Sarah to snicker as she walked back to the table.

"It's not a contraption, I would say, but it is convenient," she said, retaking her seat.

"And this _iced tea_ you've summoned? I never would have thought to put ice in one's tea. It's absolutely marvelous."

"Yea, it is pretty great," Sarah said, going back to sipping her own. "Would you like some, Baldur? The rest of your men can have some too."

"Oh, many thanks, Lady Sarah, but we must stay vigilant. There is no leisure for us," he said. Sarah huffed.

"Oh really? They don't look like they're being very vigilant to me," she said, raising an eyebrow at a couple of Goblins who were currently fighting over who got to yank on Mariella's left sleeve.

"Ah, but they are not being leisurely either. Moving around like that gives them a better vantage point to survey the area. Also, until you were disqualified, your guards were as close to your person as possible. We couldn't be protecting you better!" he said, and to that Sarah had to give him credit. They may be simple and rambunctious, but they took their jobs seriously, and they didn't restrict their duties to simply guarding her, they made it enjoyable. For whatever reason he did so, she really was thankful Jareth had made him Captain.

"I see. You've got a point. Good job men!" She rose a glass to them as she spoke and all the Goblins cheered with reverence. To Sarah this moment couldn't have been better, it couldn't have been simpler. She didn't want to admit that the two events could possibly be connected, but something different happened that morning, something had made her happy.

One of the contestants, in its excitement, cheered a little too avidly and tripped. This Goblin then fell into another Goblin and then that Goblin fell over. As the two creatures fumbled in their dizziness, Mariella and the rest of the spectators realized that the competition had just been cut in half. It was down to Marie and just one other Goblin now; and the crowd went nuts.

"Hurrah! Hurrah! Team Humanoids!" The Goblins cheered Mariella on as if she were the one who had conquered the other competitors, and their genuine excitement said she might as well have. One of the fallen combatants turned to Sarah then and singled her out. "Praise be to the Queen! Whose mighty champion shall triumph us all!" That's when other eyes made their way to her. The attention made her blush. "Praise the Queen! Praise the Queen!"

Yes, this was just a silly game of fake botchy ball, and yes these were just a bunch of silly Goblins getting caught up in the moment, but the amount of ovation and admiration their voices projected unto her was humbling to say the least. After all, she hadn't done anything, nothing at all, and yet they loved her for it. Maybe that's what Jareth meant when he said she had an image to present, that she would be a symbol for the entire kingdom. She was so worried about the responsibilities of being a Queen, but it was Jareth's job to run the kingdom. Her job was to manage the people. Her responsibility was to hold and nurture the hearts of her citizens, winning their respect and friendship. She gave an inward sigh of relief then; befriending Goblins was perhaps the only way she had connected with the Underground at all, it was something that just came to her, it was something she was confident in. It was something she could do _all on her own_.

  



	86. Give and Take part 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While unbeknown to her, Sarah has succeeded in obtaining the one thing the Goblin King has desired for hundreds of years -power over the Labyrinth. After being hidden for years from his diabolical wrath, Sarah finds herself alone and vulnerable as Jareth's dark desires are finally aloud to rear their ugly heads. As always, the only question is, are things really as they seem?

Roldan sulked as he walked through the halls. His conversation with Jareth hadn't exactly gone as planned and he found himself regretting it. He tried to move past the harsh words and see the conversation for what it really was, but it was useless. He knew Jareth wouldn't pull that card unless he needed to win. Not wanted, needed... Jareth never needed anything. In all the years he'd known him, Jareth had never once _needed_ something. He wanted things, he sought after things, he took things, but nothing was ever a necessity to him; things, people, it didn't matter, everything was expendable. He tried bitterly to understand where it had gone wrong, what he had gotten close to that would make Jareth close down. He was asking why he treats her different...he was asking what the reason was and why he was being so evasive...he was asking about a secret.

He stopped in the middle of the hall then. Jareth had a secret. There was something Jareth was keeping hidden, and if he was keeping it hidden from Roldan, he was keeping it hidden from everyone. This realization was a heavy one, as it was different from simply minding his own business or maintaining privacy. If Jareth wouldn't tell Roldan something, then there was a significant reason for it. He tried to think of what it could be, of what Sarah had to do with anything, but he came up blank each time. That's when Jareth's words came back to him, _"go take a good and long look at Sarah"..."pretending to acknowledge that may help you to see who she is."_ Was he hinting at something when he said that? Could there be any ulterior purpose? Or was he just reading into things? Seeing what he wanted to see?_"See who she is..._

_and who she is not..."_

He frowned deeply as he pondered his paranoia. Maybe he was just being resentful, maybe there was really nothing more to it, maybe he just couldn't accept Jareth's words unless they were lies...

Unwittingly, he found himself walking again, though he didn't know when he had started. He hadn't been paying attention to the halls, and realized he had ended up almost half way across the castle. He frowned again and scolded himself for being so absentminded, but when he turned to head back to his real destination he heard a shrieking of sorts and stopped to turn back around.

He furrowed his brow and stepped further down the hall, the sound -whatever it was- was coming from up around the next corner. This confused him, as he knew the only thing around that corner was a gate to the grounds.

He rounded the corner to find that said gate had been left open, and grumbled in annoyance. _Those stupid Goblins again...how many times do I have to tell them to close the damn doors? Such a nuisance..._He stomped over to the door and was about to slam it shut when he heard another shriek.

A shriek? No...no not a shriek. It was...laughter. Excited, unbidden laughter. The annoyance in his expression softened then, though the furrow remained. That sound brought back memories, memories which he was highly vulnerable towards right now. His hand tightened on the knob as he told himself to forget it and walk away, but alas, curiosity won him over and instead of closing the door in front of him, he closed it behind.

At first, he was confused. It was just a bunch of Goblins piling up on one another, slacking off again no doubt. He stepped forward, about to interrupt and end their little fiesta but slowed down when the sound of laughter hit him again. He stepped towards the edge of the patio and looked around. He could see Goblins for sure, but whatever it was they were focused on was hiding around the fountain. He took a few steps and twisted his brow when he saw Mariella, of all people, being overcome by the gropings of over-zealous fur-balls. That's when he remembered what he had overheard Sarah saying earlier- that they were going outside.

He walked a few more paces, many of the Goblins were obstructing his view, and if he wasn't mistaken it seemed like they were actually forming a perimeter. The laugh came again, but it was softer this time. His eyes went to its source and that's when he saw Sarah.

She was sitting at one of the marble tables, her legs gently crossed, her hand delicately covering her mouth as she laughed, her eyes alight and her smile brighter than he had ever seen it. She leaned back and spoke to a Goblin that was standing at attention next to her and her poise was immaculate. He became distracted when Mariella seemed to stumble and he could plainly guess the reason. They were playing some sort of game...though he couldn't fathom why.

Although he wasn't standing very close, the sounds of her laughter seemed to become more and more clear. He'd never heard her laugh before. He'd never seen her this happy. He'd never seen her happy at all.

He looked down to the grass then, deeply frustrated with the doubt Jareth had placed in him. This place was so familiar to him, the path beneath his feat, the fountain to his left, being here was like stepping into a memory. And that laugh...that smile. He knew it...all too well. He grew angry then, Jareth's harsh words coming back at him over and over telling him to see who she is and who she is not; but how could he possibly do so? A woman was laughing in Aurelia's courtyard and he was supposed to think of someone else?!

He looked up when the sound of chanting filled the void. The Goblins had ceased their game and were offering praise. He became so confused then, his mind just came up blank as he watched. Sarah looked around skeptically and recoiled from the attention, but her smile remained unwavering.

His brow softened, though he didn't realize it. This was one of the only times he'd seen her when she wasn't angry. And this _was_ the only time he'd seen her alone, without defenses, without the front that she always put on for his and Jareth's sake. In a moment of defeat, he listened to Jareth's lecturing voice echoing through his head. He tried to let go of his anger and looked at her.

She was happy. For some reason, she was happy. And the way she interacted with the Goblins made it seem like she'd known them since birth. He saw the way she lit up against nature's backdrop and the affection she felt for those creatures was palpable all the way to him. He watched as she offered them drinks and his brow rose; the Queen, offering drinks to servants, how ridiculous! And yet...and yet watching her soothed the anxiety pooling in his stomach. Watching the way she moved when no one was judging her, sensing the ease that she felt...

_No_. No, he could not do as Jareth had asked. This feeling inside of him, it wasn't because of Sarah, it was because of Aurelia. He couldn't help it, but it had happened before -when they were dancing. Sarah had tripped and fallen into his arms...and she looked up at him...with that smile. No. That smile wasn't hers. Just like it wasn't hers now.

He shook his head, reveling in his denial as the scene carried on before him.

_No._ There was nothing good about that woman. He was letting Jareth's goading get to him, but he would not break. This woman was crude, base, unkempt; she didn't deserve this title. Whatever glimpse of possibility he saw came from himself, not her. He tried to see her, he tried to let it go. And yet...all he could see was _her._

He looked up with a pained expression, trying his best to maintain conviction. Sarah was still sitting, only now one of the Knights was approaching her and offered her a flower. _A flower? Pff, they're in a garden, how could she really appreciate one little flower?_ Goblins could be so simple minded...such a meager offering would have been insulting to a real Queen. And that's why he grew disgruntled when she leaned forward and smiled, then said something he couldn't hear and waited as the Knight placed the stem of the flower behind her ear. She sat back, and he was sure the Knight beside her told her how lovely it looked judging by the way her face lit up. _Please, how absurd!_ And as he watched this pitiful moment draw out he was finding less and less excuses to be angry about it and realized that he was the one who was pitiful. This was obviously a rouse, something to make him question himself. Sure, watching from afar painted a certain picture, but he knew what she was like close up, he knew that snotty tone and glaring eyes. All _this_ was just in his head.

After a few more grumbles, he gave up and approached her.

* * *

Sarah was busy fiddling with the pretty lily Sir Gorban had given her when Mariella took her next roll. This game was literally neck and neck, as both contestants were covered in furry little Goblins up to their ears. After her roll, Mariella turned to her huffing and puffing.

"Sarah, I hope you're enjoying this. May I request leave to take a long bath after this?" she asked. Sarah snickered and rose a sassy eyebrow.

"Why? I think you look good in fur...oh relax, I'm just teasing. Yeah you can have the rest of the night off if you want." She turned then to reach for her drink and her eyes caught on movement up ahead. She looked up and, surprisingly, her smile broadened. "Oh, Roldan! Hey, what are you doing here? Did you come to check up on me?" she asked, as candid as can be. He furrowed his brow and looked away for a moment, but she wasn't attentive enough to read into it.

Roldan stood beside the table, his hands fisted at his sides just so they wouldn't knot in front of her. Now that he was before her, he felt very uncertain.

"No, I didn't actually," he said. Sarah looked up into his eyes then, the perplexing tone in his voice having gained her attention.

"Really?" she asked, sounding surprised and indeed she was. _Hm, I thought Jareth would have sent someone to check up on me by now...although...I do have the guards... _She frowned a little bit as she pondered. She actually hadn't thought about Jareth at all since that morning; she'd done her best to push him out with distractions like Roldan's exam and the Goblin's game. The sudden return of his image to her memory had her realizing she was still very unsettled over the matter. Good thing Roldan was just as troubled and couldn't catch on, his interjection saved her from a very eminent relapse into quandary.

"No, why? Are you doing something that needs checking up on?" he asked, masking his nerves effectively. Sarah's brow rose and she peered around the area.

"Um...no...we were just playing a game. I lost already so I'm spectating."

"Hm, I see," Roldan said, as if he hadn't been spying on her ten seconds ago.

"Yes, My Lady is most splendid. In my experience, ladies of prestige come to expect victory, whereas My Lady Sarah chose a fair round, most honorable and a fine trait in a Queen indeed."

Roldan scowled hard then, glaring at the Goblin whose vocal interjection presumed his rank.

"And who are you to be speaking so out of turn?" Roldan asked, though Sarah was the one to respond.

"His name is Sir Baldur and he is Captain of my Queen's Guard," she said, most affirmatively. Roldan's scowl grew more sincere.

"Really, you have your own guard now?" he asked. Sarah pursed her lips, there was a snap to Roldan's words; she wondered what his problem was and, more importantly, why he was here.

"Yes, for a while now actually. They supervise me when I go running."

"And you familiarize yourself with them?" he asked, disapprovingly. Sarah drew her brow, as if he were the one lacking approval.

"Well, why wouldn't I? They are my subjects aren't they? In case you haven't noticed, I'm not from some ritzy-high-nosed-bourgeois family. I see no need to distinguish my rank from anyone else's..._except when they're being rude_. Baldur is my friend, have you heard of that concept? It's the idea that if you care about someone they will care about you back. If you're really so concerned with me socializing according to my rank, maybe I should start treating you according to yours. You're a servant, aren't you? An advisor yes, but still a servant. Baldur is a Knight in the royal army, one hand picked by Jareth to protect me. I'd say he has just as much right to _be familiar_ with me as you do. Maybe if you weren't so _rude_, I would be just as familiar in return."

Roldan stood like knotted stump as he stared at her. His first reaction was to be irritated or offended, but he wasn't. The way she spoke to him wasn't angry, it was matter of fact. She believed in what she was saying to such a point where she didn't need her emotions to back it up, and in all truth, that was something he greatly respected. Damn, and here he was hoping talking to her would prove it was all in his head. He hid a small sigh then, his grumpiness was only able to compensate for so much and from the way she was looking at him, or the way he was reacting to the way she was looking at him, it was clear that this war within his conscience was losing on both sides.

He hesitated to answer, but Sarah's placid demeanor had no reason to prod and she quickly lost interest, her attention going back to the game. He spied on her carefully then, she was smiling again. She was laughing again. Normally, it only took one or two sentences to sour her mood when talking to him, and thus this moment was an exceptional oddity. He watched the way she brought her knuckle to her mouth to stifle her giggles, Mariella must have been making a fool of herself but he had no interest in that. He un-fisted his hands and sagged a little, letting his guard down just in time for Sarah's curious eyes to come back to him.

"You know, you're free to sit and join us if you want," she said, eyeing him down as she inspected his strange reluctance. She narrowed her eyes then; he seemed perfectly fine when she last saw him, which meant something had happened since then and the only possible thing she could think of that would put a damper on Roldan's mood more than usual was the only thing they actually had in common. She wondered...

Roldan glared at her sharply; it wasn't from anger but from latent shock. Sarah had never been this polite to him before, and with the way his thoughts were dancing in circles about him, he wasn't fully prepared nor willing to accept it.

"That is quite alright. I have no interest in ...whatever is going on," he said, precariously eyeing Mariella and her obscene behavior. Sarah frowned then, but wasn't quick enough to respond.

"Master Roldan, it is very rude of you to refuse an offer from your Queen you know." Both Sarah and Roldan glanced back at Baldur, who was actually glaring at Roldan quite intently. Sarah twisted her brow then and cracked a small smirk. Hm, so the Preacher of Primp and Proper was getting a lecture on manners? From a Goblin? How great was this?! She only wished she had a camera to capture the look of mortification on Roldan's face.

He closed his eyes and scowled before begrudgingly taking a seat at the table. Since when were Goblins that coherent?

"Of course, you are very right. My apologies," he said, though Sarah couldn't tell if he was being sincere or not. She watched him coyly as he grumbled, staring out at the spectacle like what was happening was personally offending him. Her smirk grew a little more then, this was turning out to be quite fun.

"So...if you didn't come to check up on me, was there something you needed?" Sarah asked, knowing he wouldn't possibly come to see her if he didn't absolutely need to. For most things he sent word by a messenger, so whatever it was that deserved a personal appearance had to be rather serious.

Roldan frowned again, but it was a look so common on him that Sarah was unable to see its significance. Why exactly was he here again? Oh, right, he'd wandered down memory lane like a bumbling ass; but he knew that even Sarah was sharper than he was right now. She'd see through his stammering in an instant. _Tch, curse Jareth. This is so stupid..._

"Actually...I just wanted to inform you that both Jareth and I will be rather busy this evening finishing things up for your celebration...so we will not be meeting for dinner. I figured you would rather dine in your chambers anyway," he said. His expression was hard, while Sarah's was empty.

"Um, okay. Thanks for telling me?" she said, with a strange upturn implying her skepticism. She was about to ask why he didn't just send a message, as well as why he looked so damn uncomfortable while saying that, but he picked back up before she had the chance.

"I also wanted to inform you that I'm having a local tailor send over several gowns for you to choose from to wear during the ball...they should arrive in your room tomorrow afternoon."

Sarah's brow scrunched further, wondering why he felt the need to deliver this news personally, and was growing more and more suspicious by the minute; however, she was not the one to voice her feelings.

"Oh my! How wonderful! Hear that Sarah?! I am so excited!" Mariella turned towards them in a flash, the weight of the Goblins holding no bars against her excitement. Sarah peered over and almost laughed when the inertia caught up to her and almost sent poor Marie tumbling flat on her face. Luckily, she caught herself just in time. And all the losing Goblins boo'd quietly at the Fae who just wouldn't go down. "We're going to have so much fun! Don't worry Master Roldan, I'll make sure she looks absolutely divine," she said, her smile stretching from ear to ear. Sarah rolled her eyes then, absolutely dreading tomorrow afternoon.

"We shall see," Roldan said, with laden cynicism, his eyes scanning over Mariella with coarse disapproval. Sarah gave him a look but said nothing. Quite frankly, she was just surprised he was still seated. She'd expected him to hop up and storm off the moment his errand was finished. Was there another purpose for this visit?

"So is that all then?" she asked. Roldan glanced over shifted in his seat.

"Um, yes. For now anyway," he said and started to stand. Sarah's brow softened then, she wasn't quite sure how, but she had a feeling something really wasn't right with him.

"You know, you can stay and hang out if you want," she said, eyeing him curiously when he paused from standing. She caught the way his grip on the rim of the table tightened and her brow drew closer.

"_Hang_?" he repeated, peering over with a raised brow. Sarah shrugged.

"Well...yeah. It's a nice day out, and you've been so busy lately. I know you just said you have a lot of stuff to do tonight, but surely taking five minutes to relax won't hurt?"

She gave him an appeasing smile as she spoke, knowing he might be on guard from her offer. It wasn't like she'd forgotten how sour their relationship was, but she also didn't see a reason to hold a grudge over it. They weren't in class after all, and the few times they'd eaten dinner together had gone rather well. Maybe being in a less oppressive environment would help remove some of the tension between them. As Sarah had realized some time ago: things would be a lot easier and a lot better if she and Roldan could at the very least be civil with one another. This week was turning out to be full of olive branches, though she still questioned whether or not he would accept.

Roldan glanced down and away from Sarah's gaze. He felt the urge to leave this place tugging at him so heavily, and yet he found himself unable to move. The sense of ease in Sarah's voice washed over him in a way he absolutely dreaded and he felt the knot in his gut start to twist once more. The calmness and warmth of her manner was engrossing, but it only made him feel more and more vile.

He couldn't help it. Not in a place like this. He was sitting here, under the sun, under the song of birds and above the hums of insects. He was in a place kept so serene in his memories. It was in this place where he was with _her_. And the more Sarah spoke, the clearer that memory became. The more he looked at her, sitting so charmingly with her hands folded in her lap, her attention strictly on him, giving him all the time in the world...

He wondered, if they were in any other setting would he be seeing her the same? Or was it because they _were_ in this setting that he was able to see her this way? Is that what Jareth had meant? Was he implying that Sarah really was similar to _her_? Or was his conscience simply melding the two together in his vulnerability? He didn't know which he wanted to believe, nor which was actually true, all he knew was that the kindness and peacefulness in Sarah's stare had caused a yearning in him that he couldn't place...because her eyes were green...because her skin was pale...because she _wasn't_ Aurelia.

His expression was pained as he made this awful realization and his hand gripped the table harder as he fought for the conviction to stand.

"I really do have things to get back to," he said, though Sarah knew his expression well enough from personal experience to know that he was lying miserably and leaned towards him.

"Hey, is everything alright?" she asked, reaching out a bit though keeping a fair distance from actually touching him. Roldan hesitated again and glared at her wayward hand.

"Why wouldn't it be?" he asked, defensively. Sarah eased up but gave him a look that cut through all his bull shit.

"You were worried about facing Jareth today. Did he say something to you about earlier?" she asked, her tone much more serious than before. Roldan scowled then, and that was enough answer for her. "If he did something out of line, I'd like to know," she continued, curious and now a little bit worried for how Jareth's mood had turned after she asked him to leave...Maybe it would have been better it she hadn't.

Roldan huffed then, her statement striking him as ridiculous.

"Out of line? You should know by now that there is no such thing as out of line when it comes to the King," he said, something which had Sarah frowning firmly.

"Yes, yes there is actually," she said, with that same sense of surety he'd experienced earlier. The look in her eyes was intent, but understanding. And he had an idea of where that understanding had come from; but before he could understand her any further, he stood and glared down at her, finally finding his head amidst the jumble.

"I was the one who was out of line. We had a disagreement on some trivial issues. Quite frankly, I'm surprised that you're concerned at all. Unless it's not me you're worried about, but him," he said, harshly, with an edge of judgement. _This is stupid. What am I even doing here? Gaping at her like a fool, am I really so pathetic?_ It seemed his irritation had finally won out over his uncertainty, making him aware of just how silly this whole thing really was. _Jareth thinks he can get inside my head with something like this? No, she's exactly the same; one good mood does not change anything at all._

Sarah sat back and pursed her lips. He was getting defensive now, which meant whatever it was they had _disagreed_ about was anything but trivial. And here she was trying to offer him her friendship, she should have known he wanted no part of it.

"To be honest, I'm concerned about the both of you," she said. Roldan rolled his eyes.

"Please, you don't give a damn about me. And you shouldn't, so don't feel the need to go out of your way on my behalf when you know it's really your own interests you're worrying over. Here's a tip, when you and Jareth want a damage report, try weaseling it out of each other next time rather than me."

Okay, now that may have struck a nerve; though she made note in the back of her mind that whatever had put Roldan in such a weird mood apparently had something to do with Jareth asking how she was doing, his spitefulness was the more prevalent matter. She sat up a little higher. He stood a little straighter.

"Are you offended that I _might_ care that you _might_ have a problem?" she asked, her shoulders squared and her tone audacious. _This guy...really now, is he that determined to hate me?_ "You may not realize this, but not everyone goes through life like it's one big game. Not everyone needs a bargaining chip. I know we don't get along all that well, but I don't need a reason to offer you my confidence. Think about that the next time you size me up and you might be surprised at who's the bigger person here." She kept her features schooled as she spoke, letting him know that while she was displeased, he had to do a lot worse to ruin her day. Roldan was irritated by this, wondering when in the Hell she had gained so much wisdom. He snarled a bit before responding.

"You're right. I am in a foul mood and I'm taking it out on you, _I apologize_. But now if you'll excuse me, there are commitments awaiting my attention," he said, taking the easy way out by running away. He knew if he stayed and argued with her things could get out of hand, and he was in no state of mind to loosen the reigns on his emotions even the slightest bit. But even more than that, he knew the real reason he was growing so irritated wasn't because he was looking down on her, it was because she was looking down on him, and he couldn't stand the fact that she had every right to do so. He turned his back to leave then, but was rudely cut off by a spear intercepting his path.

"It is most disrespectful to turn your back on a lady without being dismissed, let alone without bowing." Roldan peered down and glared. He wasn't sure when Baldur had moved, but his scolding was quite demeaning. To be talked down to by a Goblin...and in front of her? This was not doing much to help his temper.

Slowly he turned around, sighing heavily, and bowed without even having the decency to look at her, then glared back to the Goblin.

"Satisfied?" he asked, irritably and quickly stormed away. Both Baldur and Sarah stared after him as he reentered the castle, their eyes not leaving until the door was firmly shut. He seemed more angry than necessary, and while Baldur was worried for Sarah's sake, Sarah was just plain worried.

"...Well...he is certainly a rude one, isn't he, Lady Sarah?" Baldur turned to look at Sarah with all kinds of disapproval twisting his wrinkled face, but it was quickly replaced by a smile by the time their eyes met. Sarah kept her lips pursed, her brow furrowed with contemplation.

"Nah...he's just grumpy a lot...I wouldn't let it bother you, that's just how he is," she said, but that wasn't good enough for Baldur.

"Nonsense. As Hand to the King, he should be showing you more respect. Personal qualms are irrelevant."

Sarah rested her jaw on the heel of her hand as she listened to Baldur. Roldan was always preaching to her about manners and such that she never really stopped to consider how he may be taking advantage of his position. She saw the way he reacted to Baldur's words as if it were compulsory and she could tell he wasn't too keen about it. She wondered if all this free reign of his she'd come to accept as norm would change once she no longer needed lessons... That would surely be interesting.

But that line of pondering was not what was peaking Sarah's interest. No...it wasn't just his manners, there was definitely something off about him. For a moment there he seemed...skittish, maybe even shy. Was he allergic to the flowers? Was he just pouting from whatever happened with Jareth? Or was it something else?

  



	87. Give and Take part 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While unbeknown to her, Sarah has succeeded in obtaining the one thing the Goblin King has desired for hundreds of years -power over the Labyrinth. After being hidden for years from his diabolical wrath, Sarah finds herself alone and vulnerable as Jareth's dark desires are finally aloud to rear their ugly heads. As always, the only question is, are things really as they seem?

She was lost in thought when Mariella finally flagged down her attention.

"Oh, did Master Roldan leave already? Goodness me, I didn't even notice!"

Sarah peered over to find Marie reaching for her drink, standing Goblin-free, as she looked back toward the castle. Sarah straightened up a bit.

"Oh, yea, he did...What's up? Did you win?" she asked. Mariella took a long sip of her drink and shook her head from side to side.

"Sadly no. I lost out to that red one over there," she said and nodded her head in the direction of said winner. Sarah drew her brow then, she'd been so distracted she didn't even hear the Goblins cheering the winner. She looked away from the squad and back toward the castle.

"Hey, Marie...did Roldan seem to be acting a little odd to you?" she asked. Mariella rose her brow and shrugged.

"Well, I mean, he was rather vexed with His Majesty right? From what I gathered from the conversation anyway," she said. Sarah was nodding absently.

"Yeah...but it was more than that. I've seen him mad with me and Jareth before...this was different. He definitely had something on his mind...it was like being here made him uncomfortable." She glanced downward as she spoke, but her head immediately darted up when Mariella plopped into the vacant seat across from her.

"Maybe he just doesn't like the flowers," she said, all smiles and glitter. Sarah gave her a false smile in return, finding it hard to be convinced.

"I don't know...do you think Jareth may have done something bad?" she asked, and by the time she glanced up, found Marie was staring back at her with wide eyed puzzlement. "Hm? What?" Sarah asked. Marie lowered the cup from in front of her face,

"Oh, pardon me, it's nothing just...you haven't said a word regarding his majesty all day. I thought maybe you were trying to distract yourself from him," she said, precariously eyeing the make-shift botchy field over yonder. Sarah's eyes followed over and she shrugged.

"I was...I mean I am. I...oh I don't know...I'm just worried I might have put him in a bad mood and he took it out on Roldan...he was right then, my concern for him is self-serving."

Mariella perked up and leaned over slightly.

"Oh, come now, don't let Master Roldan's words get to you. You were very assertive just now. Stand behind your words, Sarah, there is great merit in them," she said, urging Sarah's attention to come back before it sank into a funk. "And besides, who cares? So what if you were inquiring on His Majesty. That is your right. And at least you know that he was inquiring on you too." Okay, now that earned her Sarah's attention. She looked up and slouched back in her chair.

"Yeah...Roldan did mention that in passing, didn't he?" she asked, and the shy little smile that accompanied such words intrigued Mariella to no end. She leaned over the table even further, closing the gap for any eavesdroppers, and spoke in a hushed voice. (Baldur and the rest of guards took the hint to back off)

"Your smile implies something curious. Tell me, does it have anything to do with this morning? You did promise to tell me, didn't you? Is it _later_ yet?" She asked, grinning playfully and fisting her hands with excitement.

At first Sarah was wary, recalling the morning in question felt like a complicated matter; however, it wasn't complicated for the reasons she thought it would be. She bit her lip, but begrudgingly gave in and leaned forward to meet Marie half way. She glanced around and found the squad keeping attention a healthy distance away, ensuring their privacy.

"You know...you're lucky I'm in such a good mood, or I'd be sulking away like Roldan right now," she said, half-heartedly. Mariella's face lit up even further.

"Oh, but you're not. And you've just stated that you are in fact in quite a joyous mood. I assume that this morning's confrontation had to do with whatever happened last night? Please tell me you were able to finally make up," she asked, no, pleaded. The glimmer of hope and wonder in her eyes was near nauseating, but for once Sarah greatly appreciated it. It was a helpful reinforcement.

Sarah blinked several times as she thought of a response. Images of that morning were starting to play through her mind and she started to blush involuntarily. Mariella saw this and her smile curled like a Cheshire's grin.

Mariella had spoken the truth when she'd accused Sarah of seeking a distraction. All day she'd been trying her best to keep herself from over thinking what had happened, from letting herself get blindsided by lingering hormones and she found that as the day went on, as she _didn't_ think about it, that strange unease she'd felt had softened. Now that it had finally been brought up again, she tried to dissect that strange moment.

Jareth had kissed her. He'd kissed her, so softly, so sweetly. Why had it upset her? Why did it make her want to leave? She thought about the events prior and was surprisingly content with it. Jareth was right, frustration was frustration, and she would much rather fuck it out than beat it out. The ghost of her conscience howled that that was what she should be worrying about, not one kiss; that the fact that she conceded to that violent endeavor was in fact insane and wrong and- and...and she was sick of beating herself up. She was sick of punishing herself for having urges she told herself were sins; but they were only bad because she thought they were...if Jareth was right...it didn't have to be so bad.

Mariella waited impatiently as Sarah slowly smiled to herself. She was clearly remembering something, and Mariella was just giddy as hell to know what.

"Well?" she urged, calling back Sarah's attention only to find her blanching once again. Sarah blinked again and opened her mouth to speak.

"Um...actually..." And the involuntary flare of a smile inhibited her from finishing that sentence. Mariella scooted closer and took hold of Sarah's hands.

"You see! I knew it would all work out. Look at you! You're blushing. You did make up. I knew it the moment I saw your neck. That's what's put you in such a fine mood," she said, squeezing Sarah's fingers a little too tightly. Sarah's blush grew and she pulled back a bit.

"Whoa, wait, what do you mean my neck?" she asked, quizzically. Mariella's brow rose.

"You were intimate with His Majesty...that's what happened this morning isn't it?" she asked. Sarah shot her an eye, so she thought the need to explain..."_You have quite the bite mark on your neck_," she said, in a whisper. Sarah's brow drew tight before her eyes grew wide and she sat up straight in her chair. A hand went to the side of her neck and her cheeks flushed a bright red.

"Wait- What?! Seriously?! Why didn't you tell me?!" She asked, simmering in embarrassment.

"Because it is no one's business really. I'm guessing in your world such marks are considered a bit shameful?" she asked with amusement. Sarah's expression only became more extreme.

"Um, I wouldn't say shameful, but certainly inappropriate, especially for someone my age," she said and glared away as she rubbed her neck -as if that was enough to make it vanish.

"Well, be thankful then that you are here now. Such marks are seen as a good thing. It shows strength in your bond," she said. Sarah gave her a look that called utter bullshit and quirked an eyebrow.

"You mean it proves we had sex. Though I suppose that's what you mean by _strength_," she said, dryly. Mariella stifled a giggle.

"Yes well...how do you feel about the _strength_ of your bond?" she asked, half teasing, half serious. Sarah furrowed her brow again. "You're in a positive mood. Surely this is a good sign?" she continued. Sarah was hesitant to answer.

"Well, I mean...it's more complicated than that..."

"Why? If you're feeling good you should be able to enjoy it. Nothing else matters," Marie said. Sarah's eyes sprang up, finding something worth while in those words.

"Well, that's the thing...I'm worried that I'm not supposed to enjoy it."

"Why? Because you still have issues with one another? Relationships don't heal overnight Sarah, they go in steps. You should enjoy each with stride. I know this may be out of line but...you've hinted at this once before and...I know His Majesty stole you, but that shouldn't mean you can't be happy." Mariella's words were so genuine and earnest, just like they always were, and Sarah found herself embracing her hands in return. These worries that had been plaguing her for the past week...these insecurities and self-condemnation...

To Mariella, it looked like Sarah's eyes were starting to water and she quickly stepped up.

"What's wrong? You want to be happy, don't you?" she asked. Sarah bit her lip and shrugged; she was by no means on the verge of a breakdown, but some of the tumult from that morning had started seeping back, and she wasn't sure if Mariella's words were helping or making it worse.

"Yes...I do...It's just..."

"Just what?"

Sarah looked away and sighed.

"It's just...I know that Jareth wants me to be happy too."

Okay...that had Mariella a little confused. She twisted her brow and tilted her head slightly.

"And that's a problem?" she asked. When Sarah's eyes returned, they were much harder.

"Yes. That is precisely the problem," she said. Mariella frowned. "Jareth wants me to be happy, so if I am that means I've given him what he wants. That means he'll think I've given up and he's won. I know...I know that's stupid and twisted...but a part of me is spiteful enough to deny him that satisfaction...even if it means denying it to myself."

Mariella frowned even further and loosened the hold on Sarah's hands. A part of her was left devastated, not able to believe they could be caught in such a shamble. And here she was just seconds ago beaming because they'd resolved one tryst. However, it was deathly apparent that they still had a long, long ways to go. She took a moment to think and then tightened her grip on Sarah's fingers once more.

"You see...what I don't understand is why his opinion matters to you," she said, effectively catching Sarah off guard. "You think His Majesty is selfish with you and therefore he doesn't deserve the satisfaction of winning you over, is that it?" she asked, Sarah nodded. "Well...then perhaps you should be selfish with him."

"What do you mean?" Sarah asked, something about this conversation seemed familiar...

"If being with His Majesty makes you happy, then be with him. It's as simple as that."

"You make that sound so easy. I can't_ just be_ with him...It's complicated.. And the truth is...I'm afraid." Sarah's head sank low, her brow furrowed with frustration. Mariella frowned and rose a hand to brush away the hair hiding her face, making Sarah tense for just a second. That gesture...that tenderness, it felt ...so very familiar. Where had she felt this before?

"You're afraid of being with him? Even though it brings you joy? Sarah...what are you really resentful of?" she asked, tenderly. Sarah peered up and she nibbled on her lip as she fought for the courage to say it.

"I...I don't want to...he doesn't deserve..."

"Your feelings?"

Mariella's words put Sarah in a total blanch. She'd known this all along, but hadn't the courage to face it. It wasn't Jareth she was afraid of. It wasn't sex she was afraid of. It was herself. She was afraid of the one thing she thought she had control over...

"Is that it? Are you resentful of the way you feel about him?" Mariella's probing was gentle but necessary. Sarah was already squirming, but both could tell she wanted to get this off her chest. After a moment, she scowled hard and glared up to Marie with fiery conviction.

"Yes. Yes I am," she said, and clenched her jaw as she fought to keep moving forward. "It's stupid. I have every right to hate him, and I just can't. I have no reason to forgive him and yet I do. I should be repulsed by him and yet I can't help myself. He doesn't deserve it. He's taken everything I hold dear, I won't allow him to take my heart too." Her face was growing heated as she spoke, her eyes smarting from the immense frustration she'd been keeping bottled up, but there was something so comforting about Mariella right now...

Marie's eyes softened and she smiled sweetly, her hand rising to sooth Sarah's cheek with the tenderness of a mother's touch. No one else may give her credit for it, but Sarah was stronger than she knew.

"You're worried that being with him will sway your heart against your wishes?" Marie asked, her strange smile still intact.

"Of course it will, how couldn't it?" Sarah asked, and that's when it clicked. That morning, they had been romping around, clawing at each other tooth n' nail, but for Sarah it was purely physical. Yes, it felt good, it felt easy, but that was because there was no emotion deeper than that of impulse. It was only when he kissed her...when he showed her genuine compassion that she recoiled. That must have been her heart warning her, warning not to get caught up lest she sabotage herself. She'd made the decision of what she wanted from him, but she refused to give him any of her before hand. She may not hate him, but she couldn't love him either. She would not love him. For her own good, she couldn't love him...

"Well Sarah...what do you want to do?" she asked. Sarah looked up, surprised by her question.

"I...I don't know?" she responded. Mariella sighed.

"Oh dear...Do you want to be with him?" she asked, the appeasement of her expression conveyed the knowing in her eyes. Sarah scowled hard.

"...Yes? I do...but I don't."

"You want to be with him, but you want to keep yourself protected from him. Have you ever thought of doing just that?" she asked, her smile turning somewhat mischievous. Sarah's eyes widened.

"What are you trying to say?" she asked, not wanting to jump the gun by assuming things. Mariella bit her lip as her grin curled.

"Take what you want, and give nothing back. That's how you feel he's been treating you, no? If you treat him the same way in return, you'll be perfectly matched."

There was something odd about the look in Mariella's eye, and this line of conversation was growing more and more eerie by the moment. It reminded her of the things Liana once said. Sarah pondered a moment, but she couldn't afford the same aloofness as Mariella.

"Are you saying Jareth and I should be fuck buddies?" she said, bluntly. Her expression was of confusion while Marie's became shocked.

"Oh, well, to put it in vulgar terms I suppose. Sarah, you really should watch your language. We are outside after all," she said, peering around as if one of the flowers might overhear. Sarah was unfazed by Mariella's reaction, however, instead glancing down as she mulled some things over.

"Jareth thinks we should use sex to end our arguments," she said, once again bypassing her mental filter. And again Mariella's eyes widened.

"And how do you feel about that?" she asked. Sarah shrugged awkwardly.

"I think that's a stupid idea. Sure, it might feel nice in the moment, but it won't ever actually solve anything. We'll still have the issue, only we'll just start to resent one another over it. Not saying the way we go about resolving our issues now is any more successful, but how could less communication be any better?" she asked. Mariella leaned back and pursed her lips as the thought.

"Well...communication isn't just with words, Sarah, you know this. And successful communication is dependent on your level of intimacy, no? So...when you think about it...inciting intimacy may actually improve your communication not lessen it..."

"So you're agreeing with him?"

"What I'm saying is that, If you are looking for a way to shield your heart and still make yourself happy by being with him, I don't see a better option. After all, it is one His Majesty proposed himself, am I correct?" she asked. Sarah was hesitant to answer, so she continued. "You do want to be happy yes? And being with him is what makes you happy? The only other way would be to cease relations altogether, but do you _really _see that as an option?" Her question implied something more and she hoped Sarah picked up on it.

"No...no...I mean, we're getting married. I always knew sex was an inevitability..." he voice trailed off as memories of _that night_ came back to her, but she quickly shook them away. "And we've already done so a few times now...and in all honesty I don't see that stopping, not after the way this morning went...But a casual relationship with my husband? Doesn't that seem inherently flawed to you?"

"I didn't say it wasn't flawed, although it might be necessary. Is it necessary?"

"...Yes...I think so."

"Well then? I think you have more to lose by not giving it a try."

Sarah was quiet for a moment, very seriously contemplating Marie's suggestion. A casual relationship? How could that even be possible? She replayed Jareth's words over and over, how he propositioned that they use sex as a means of relieving frustration. Earlier, she thought that was absurd, but after thinking about it now, realized that that was exactly the same as what Mariella was saying. If they only had sex when they were angry, well, there wouldn't be much room for any deeper emotions. She would get the satisfaction of sex and dealing with all his craziness...but it was the aftermath that worried her. Once the anger was gone, then there was nothing stopping all those other pesky emotions from coming back and ruining everything, just like what happened that morning...

When Sarah glanced up, Mariella was back to her gleeful self. She sat back with her hands in her lap and from the look on her face she seemed thoroughly satisfied with the conversation's verdict. It baffled Sarah how how she could be so optimistic about everything, but then again, her job was to support her, so in a way, she had to be this way. Sarah wondered then, how much of what Mariella said truly was genuine and not out of obligation.

"Okay...so what if you're right? What if Jareth's right and this is something I should pursue...but what if I can't follow through? What if I don't have it in me? I don't think I'd make a good hedonist," she said, foreboding thoughts of eminent disaster raining down upon her psyche. Mariella let out a gentle sigh.

"Sarah...I have been a Consort to many men of many different ranks. I know a thing or two about what you are feeling," she said, and her smile became more genuine. This had Sarah perking up a bit, she'd never thought about Mariella's past like that before.

"Yeah?" she asked, skeptically, trying hard not to accidentally judge Marie's lifestyle.

"Yes...I know it can be hard to guard yourself. I also know that sometimes it can be necessary, but if you're careful it can be done," she said and reached out to place a hand over her own once more. "If this is what you truly wish, then you must have the confidence to make it come true. And who knows? Maybe once you have it, you'll find it is something you do not want, and I think that is the best possible outcome you could hope for," she said, ignoring the way Sarah's fingers curled under the comfort of her palm.

_Keep my emotions in check until I'm ready to give them to him? Isn't that what I had decided all along? We're getting married in one week...our relationship is more complicated than anyone's should ever be...but I need to be his equal. I need to stand at the same level as him and I know I can't do that if I let my feelings tear me apart... Liana told me to do what makes me happy regardless of anyone else; that's what Marie is saying too. Maybe they're right...maybe I can pull this off if I'm confident enough...Jareth may think that because I'm here that means he's won, but he has not won me. But am I confident enough? In moments like this morning...will I have the conviction to turn away from him?_

That's when she realized that she had done so already. She had turned away from him and the result had been a rather fine day. If she could keep doing that, if she could manage to keep love and lust separate, then things would go much more smoothly for her conscience. She wouldn't feel so guilty all the time...She could be Queen, she could be Jareth's wife, she could even be his lover, but to her he would just be a tool: something for her to use for her own satisfaction. It was his proposition. He was the one who used those very same words, telling them to use each other. And she had _used_ him. After everything he'd put her through...she may have forgiven him for some things, but he did not deserve _his_ happy ending. She may have given up her body but she would not submit her heart to him, not until he submitted his first. And perhaps this was a way of going about such a feat...She still didn't know if she had it in her, but the more she thought about it the more she realized Mariella was right...she had more to lose by not trying.

"Alright...you win, Marie. You have more experience in this than me, so I'll listen to the expert. What I want is for Jareth and I to be on mutual ground...to gain some respect for one another. Maybe after that I'll give him a chance...when I feel I'm strong enough to risk it. But in the mean time, take each step in stride, right?"

Mariella beamed with joy, so very happy that she could actually be of help to her. This entire situation was so strange and exciting, and she never thought Sarah would reveal as much as she did. All in all, she wanted to see these two work. It was such an odd match, and how wonderful would it be if they could live happily one day? And to think she may have had a small hand in that! She was still sure His Majesty was in love with Sarah, and now after speaking with her, she was fairly sure of what Sarah's dilemma really was: she wasn't trying to prevent herself from loving him, she was trying to stop herself from loving him any more than she already did.

She knew this strategy would fail, she knew it from the start and yet that was exactly why she had proposed it. She'd been experiencing this strange compulsion during their entire conversation...it was like something besides her own excitement was telling her to push this on her. What a strange feeling...it was almost tangible.

Mariella turned to glance at the fountain, it really had turned out to be such a fine day. She became distracted then and was therefore startled when Sarah suddenly reached out to her over the table.

"Oh, hey. Don't move..." Sarah said, reaching out for a tendril of her hair. Marie twitched and glanced back, confused.

"Huh? What is it?" she asked, trying to watch out her peripheral as Sarah began sifting through her hair.

"You have a bug caught in your hair," she said, and a sharp chill immediately ran down Mariella's spine.

"Really? Oh, how embarrassing...those filthy Goblins...someone should mandate they bathe more regularly," she said, secretly nibbling her lip with anxiety. Yes, Mariella may have been a Fae and a Nymph, but she was raised within castle walls, kept primp and proper. The idea of insects crawling around in her hair was simply obscene.

After a moment Sarah eased back into her own seat. Mariella looked over, expecting to be horrified, and was pleasantly surprised to find that it was a beautiful butterfly perched on Sarah's finger.

"You had a butterfly in your hair...that's kinda strange, isn't it?" she asked, smiling as she watched the creature walk along her index finger. Mariella's eyes widened.

"That creature...it's gold," she said and leaned over the table for a closer look. "I've never seen a butterfly like this..."

"Oh?" Sarah quirked, angling her wrist to accommodate the creature's movements. "I see them all the time. A few have even flown in through my window a couple times," she said. Mariella drew her brow.

"Really? Isn't that rather high for them to be flying?" she asked. Sarah shrugged.

"Hm, I don't know. They are pretty though, aren't they?" Sarah's voice became airy as she stared at the butterfly. There was something so familiar about it, just touching it had settled the unease that had been building up in her gut. It reminded her of Liana, of the dresses she wore and her gentle grace. Thinking of her now, she realized she hadn't seen Liana since _that night_ and wondered where she was, what she was doing. How odd that one of these would be caught in Mariella's hair.

Her eyes followed as the creature then fluttered away, quickly disappearing into the vastness of the sky. Marie was the first to look away, deeply concerned. There was something entrancing about that insect. Something not normal. If she had to guess...she would say there was something magical about it, but it had left her too dazed to ponder. Had the creature done that? Or was she just awed by its beauty...

"Well, I don't know about you, but I'm all talked out for one day. The sun's starting to get to me too, you wanna head back so you can take a shower?" Sarah asked, effectively pulling Mariella from her daze. She looked over to her and blinked, then shook her head and smiled.

"Of course. Evening will be upon us shortly and you need to study. Shall I summon dinner for us later on?" she asked, standing to her feet. Sarah followed.

"Sure thing. Just come find me whenever," she said, stopping to bid Baldur and the squad farewell as they walked past.

The guard bowed simultaneously as Sarah entered the castle. Mariella paused just behind her, her hand tentatively on the door, and looked back. She didn't know why, but there seemed to be something ominous about this garden all of a sudden. It was like they were being watched...not by the Goblins...not by His Majesty or Master Roldan...she couldn't put a finger on it.

There was something off about that butterfly.

* * *


	88. Give and Take part 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While unbeknown to her, Sarah has succeeded in obtaining the one thing the Goblin King has desired for hundreds of years -power over the Labyrinth. After being hidden for years from his diabolical wrath, Sarah finds herself alone and vulnerable as Jareth's dark desires are finally aloud to rear their ugly heads. As always, the only question is, are things really as they seem?

Evening came and the sun was starting to set. Sarah was probably in her room studying and wouldn't expect her back for a little while longer. She walked lightly through the castle, not making the slightest peep, and stopped at a fork in the path.

Straight would lead her to Sarah's room, but left...

She told herself she would be quick, that there was no harm in it. Sarah wouldn't be aware in the slightest. Although, it wasn't Sarah she was concerned with. Master Roldan had a nasty habit of popping up in the most unexpected places, and she had been fortunate enough never to have run into His Majesty.

The corridors leading towards the library were kept dim when no one was there, and lit up as she passed through. The light worried her, though again she told herself she had nothing to worry about. Both Master Roldan and His Majesty were quite busy, weren't they? She wondered where they were and hoped it was somewhere on the far end of the castle.

She opened the door slowly, peering inside to make sure she wasn't intruding on anything. The room was dark and thankfully vacant.

She closed the door behind her.

Lights flickered on as she entered deeper into the room, the beautiful light fixtures donning the columns projecting from the walls created a calm and warm ambience.

She made her way to the desk. She'd only been in here a few times with Sarah, but had immediately spied her goal. Lord Davion had told her where to find it after all, it was only a matter of getting to it.

She sat at the desk and pulled an envelope from her sleeve. It'd been some time since she last wrote him, and with the celebration only a day away she figured he would want as in depth of an update as possible. She still wasn't sure why he wanted her to do this...but it wasn't her place to ask. Maybe he was just curious, like everyone else? Maybe he was concerned for his brother? Maybe it was something else entirely. Whatever reason Davion had for spying, it didn't worry Mariella too much or else she wouldn't carry through with it.

She wrote as much as she knew and as much as she thought. She wrote of the things they did, the way they acted, the way things seemed to be getting better. She held the letter in font of her and read the script to herself, _Davion_, and kissed it.

Reaching out, she took hold of the standing orb at the corner of the desk. She had seen this before, it was a device used to send messages across great distances quickly. Lord Davion had one himself, though she would have thought His Majesty would keep it more guarded.

She thought of the intended destination and tapped the letter against the orb, and not a moment later had it vanished. She let out a sigh of relief, thinking she was in the clear once again. She stood, placed the orb back in its spot and pushed the chair back where it once was and began her journey back to Sarah.

The desk was located in a niche in the wall, and therefore she had to round a corner to find the door. She walked briskly without a care in the world, and that was why she nearly tripped and fell flat on her face when she rounded the corner and was impeded by none other than Jareth, patiently leaning against the wall in all his menacing glory.

Mariella stumbled back and immediately lowered her head, standing stock still as she tried desperately to sooth her panicking heartbeat.

Jareth pushed up off the wall, keeping his arms crossed and his gaze cold. How long he had been there, she had no idea. Whether he knew of her dealing, she surely hoped not. He took a step towards her, and the sound of his boots against the wooden floorboards sent shivers down her spine.

"Oh, please forgive me Your Grace. I was not aware you were there. Forgive me for my clumsiness," she said, with a definite waver in her voice. While Sarah may have a way of working him over, Mariella knew she did not, and after their first encounter, did not want to cross him ever again.

Jareth huffed and walked around her, completely disregarding her. For a moment Mariella's heart settled, though she knew she was no where in the clear. She straightened up and looked back after him. She knew she shouldn't have, but after talking with Sarah she was just so curious. He looked stoic and angry, but then again he always did when she was around. He kept quiet as he slowly paced towards the desk, then stopped and ran a hand along the desk top. Mariella swallowed her pounding heart.

"What were you doing in here?" he asked, turning fractionally just so she could see the glint in his eye. Mariella gulped again and stood a little straighter.

"I...was looking for some spare parchment. Sarah wished to make notecards to study from," she said, and felt a wave of anxiety wash away at how probable that excuse sounded. At first, Jareth was silent again, though he turned around to face her and leaned back against the edge of the desk.

"There should be plenty of parchment in her own room," he said, eyeing her with a gaze as sharp as razorblades. For a moment, Mariella wondered how in the world Sarah had the courage to stand up to him, and thus understood her skepticism during their earlier conversation. She bit her lower lip as she tried to quell the anxiety.

"Yes, but we used it all you see...the last time we made notecards."

She saw the shadow of a smile on him as he leaned up from the desk, and she held her breath when he then stepped towards her. She kept her eyes on the floor, kept her breathing shallow, but couldn't stop the fever buzzing inside her when he was then no more than an inch away from her. He paused and looked down at her, before reaching behind her and pulling open the drawer of a cabinet lining the wall. Mariella hopped forward on reflex, surprised by the sound and the movement, but quickly realized he was merely telling her to get out of the way.

She moved away and turned around, watching intently as he reached in and pulled back a hefty stack of parchment.

"Here. This should be enough for some time to come," he said, his stare now detached from her. She reached out tentatively and took the paper from his hands. She stared on for a moment, questioning whether she was to truly get off so easy. Realizing she was gawking, she quickly bowed and went to hurry out of the room. However, all Jareth had to do was take a simple step to the side. "Is something the matter?" he asked, with a terrifying rhetoric. Mariella paled.

"No, of course not, Your Highness," she stammered, struggling to keep her eyes from his. They were so blue and fierce in this light, regardless of his intimidation, it was hard to look away.

Jareth narrowed his eyes, contemplating how much he wanted to toy with her.

"Did you and Sarah enjoy the courtyard?" he asked, the deflection succeeding in shattering her nerves. Mariella blinked rapidly as she tried to discern his temper.

"Yes, it was quite beautiful. I don't think I've ever seen Sarah enjoy herself so," she said, holding the papers tight to her torso. Jareth's faint smile softened, though she didn't see it.

"Good..." he said, and seemed to become distracted. "Since you're here, I might as well tell you that Sarah's gowns are being sent to her room tomorrow."

"Yes, I know. Master Roldan informed us already."

Jareth's brow rose at that, wondering when exactly he had told her...

"Oh really? And when was this?" he asked. Mariella shifted in her spot.

"Earlier today...he came out to the courtyard to inform us," she explained, and the smile returned fully to Jareth's face. It was all he could do not to laugh. _That idiot, he actually did what I told him to do? Hmph, pathetic_, he thought mockingly. He could only imagine how that experience had gone and was already feeling exasperated over the matter.

"Ah, I see. Then I trust you will make sure she is dressed accordingly?" he asked. Mariella's brow rose a bit, his voice wasn't threatening like it was before.

"Of course, Your Grace. She will look immaculate, from head to toe," she said pointedly. Jareth's smile turned to a sneer.

"I expect nothing less...right down to her accessories," he said, and the mysterious implication of his tone had Mariella glancing up for an explanation.

"Majesty?" she asked. Jareth's smile grew. Oh, this was too perfect.

"You know the customary color is gold. I want you to make sure her accenting adornments are appropriately matched," he said, not wanting to give too much away. Mariella furrowed her brow. Jareth's eyes lowered for a moment, and by the time they rose to look straight into hers, the edge of malice had once again taken root. "Do this...and I shall ignore the letter you've just sent to my brother," he said.

The amusement that darkened his face was of pure malignity. His smile twisted playfully, but there was nothing playful about his threat. Mariella froze, dreading her eminent future.

"I..I don't understand," she mumbled, fear clouding her judgement. Jareth took a deep breath and crossed his arms.

"You really think I don't know what you're doing? I knew the moment you set foot in my castle," he said, haughtily. Mariella swallowed hard.

"I-I'm sorry, please forgive me Your Grace, Lord Davion-"

"Enough. I can't stand the sound of your driveling. Do as I say and I shall send you on your merry way."

Just as he commanded, Mariella ceased her driveling immediately, but now suspicion was added to her confusion.

"You are not punishing me?" she asked. Jareth leaned back against the corner of the wall.

"Not only that, I shall allow you to continue your devious endeavors," he said. Mariella's expression just became more and more twisted.

"What? Why?" she asked.

"Because I believe that aside from your sleuthfulness, you do actually care for Sarah, and I know that she happens to care for you a great deal...although...that may change should she catch wind of your deception," he responded, his voice full of happy extortion. Mariella glanced downward in thought, the papers she held now crinkled from her tightening grip.

"And...all you want me to do is make sure she wears complimenting jewelry?" she asked, befuddled. This made no sense. His threats made no sense.

"Yes," he said, pleased with his ability to bewilder the poor girl. She didn't understand his request, and that was perfectly perfect. In order to pull off this scheme of his, absolutely no one could know, and yet she would need a reason to accept it. Mariella may be a good friend to Sarah, but she was a woman of the Underground, and she knew her place in it. She would not betray a direct order from the King and even if she did tell Sarah, he gave nothing away that he hadn't already come up with a story to explain. He would know if his spell worked in only a day or so, if things went according to plan.

Mariella was busy looking dour by the time Jareth finished reveling in his connivery. He looked down to her and quirked a brow.

"Unless you have any more pointless questions, we're done here. You may be on your way," he said, and no sooner did Mariella bow and quickly turn away.

"Thank you, Your Majesty," she said, and hurriedly shuffled out of the room.

* * *

Sarah was busy laying out the pages of her binders when Mariella finally knocked.

"Come in!" she beaconed, not bothering to confirm who it was as she finished her sorting. Not very many people came to her room after all, and of those few Mariella was the only one who knocked.

She was sitting on the floor beside the coffee table and looked up as Marie took a seat on the edge of the couch.

"Oh, you brought paper? I was just thinking about making some notecards. You're awesome," Sarah said, smiling pleasantly as the fire burned behind her. Mariella's fingers curled against the pad of paper nervously and she looked down at her toes.

"Yes...I thought you might like to, so I fetched some from the library on my way here," she said, almost masking the despondency in her voice. Sarah frowned then, she looked...skittish.

"Hey? Is everything alright?" she asked. Mariella looked up into Sarah's concerned stare and immediately composed herself.

"Hm? Oh...no I am fine. Forgive me...my hunger must have put me in a daze," she said, weakly. Sarah smiled and stood from the floor.

"Of course. I'm actually starving, too. What do you want to eat?" she asked, going over to retrieve her bell. Mariella frowned now that she was out of Sarah's line of sight. She was so very confused...What was His Majesty's purpose? Why did he make such a strange request? She peered up to watch Sarah as she placed her bell on a tray of drinks and carried it over towards the coffee table. "I think I'm feeling carbs...maybe a nice thick lasagna, does that sound good?" she asked, plopping back down to her seat on the floor.

Mariella gave her a reassuring smile and placed the parchment on the edge of the table.

"Whatever you wish..." she mumbled, fighting back the sense of guilt that was doing its best to sour her features as she watched Sarah reach out with a pair of scissors and begin to cut the first batch of cards.

"Hey, Marie?" Sarah's voice was soft, and she looked up with a smile. "Thanks for being such a good friend to me. I don't think I could handle all of this if you weren't here to tell me why it can be alright." She continued to smile as she spoke and then glanced down to watch where she was cutting. Mariella's frown deepened and she knitted her brow with displeasure. Though as she stared off, she drew her brow again, only this time her head rose and her eyes widened.

The fire behind Sarah was dancing, its flames shooting tall and beaming bright. Its warmth surrounded her, its light enveloped her...and as Mariella stared into it she could have sworn...for just a moment...as the flames curled and cracked and twirled...she could have sworn she saw them flutter. Like wings. Like the wings...of a golden butterfly.

  



	89. The Fixx, part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While unbeknown to her, Sarah has succeeded in obtaining the one thing the Goblin King has desired for hundreds of years -power over the Labyrinth. After being hidden for years from his diabolical wrath, Sarah finds herself alone and vulnerable as Jareth's dark desires are finally aloud to rear their ugly heads. As always, the only question is, are things really as they seem?

Chapter 16, The Fixx

* * *

"Oh my, Sarah look at this, isn't it all so beautiful?!"

Colors. Textures. The shine and gleam. Mountains and mountains of ruffles.

"Oh, and look at this! And this! Oh this is so cute! Ah, you really are so lucky!"

Patterns and patterns and patterns with patterns. Patterns on patterns and patterns in patterns.

"Master Roldan really pulled through didn't he? Or, no, no I bet it was His Majesty who picked these out. They're much more fitting to his personality than Master Roldan's. I must find out who this seamstress is, they say she's a Goblin but everything is so marvelous! Isn't it beautiful, Sarah? I am so excited. Which would you like to try on first?"

Sarah stared on, aghast at the scene before her, petrified into silence as Mariella bounced and jittered and squealed with glee. There was just so much, so much _lavishness_. The way the embroidery and sheen of the materials gleamed off of one another created a visual radiance which, instead of an aura of warmth and elegance, emitted a sense of dire claustrophobia as Sarah realized she was still very much a plebeian and very much wanted to stay one.

Her mouth hung open as she gawked her way from one gown to the next. Gown? Were they gowns? She couldn't even tell. It seemed like they were in pieces, scattered about her room. Which belonged to which? What exactly comprised one of these gowns? How complicated was this going to be?

The simple inability to discern bodice from bustle was intimidating to say the least.

"Hm, Sarah?"

Mariella turned back when her excitement was received as naught and stared dumbly at a dumbfounded Sarah.

"Um...I don't really know...what to think. This is all a bit much isn't it?" Sarah said, wincing uncomfortably and scratching the back of her head as she peered around the room once more.

Roldan had told them the day previous that her clothing options would be delivered to her room during this morning's lesson, and indeed Sarah was admittedly a little excited for it whilst trying to push through his awful final exam; but this...this was just...not something she expected. There were trunks, piled high, and other boxes piled on top of those. There were mannequins and dummies, things that looked like curtains and tapestries hanging from racks and hooks and the back of the couch and the posts on her bed. There was just so much crap. Was all of this really needed? She couldn't fathom all the extravagance lounging about her. And it was all gold. Everything was either gold or black or gold and black or black and gold. There was shiny gold and glittery gold and satiny gold and matte gold and pleated gold and ruffled gold and layered gold and draped gold and Holy Jesus what was with all the freaking gold?

Mariella glanced around in reaction to Sarah's statement, but wasn't the least bit phased.

"There is a lot, I will agree with you on that. But I imagine that is because His Majesty wants you to be happy with what you choose. You don't know much about our fashion trends, perhaps this is his way of showing his confidence in you, allowing you to make this choice rather than simply picking something he fancies."

"Confidence?" Sarah repeated, knitting her brow with distaste.

"Well of course, why wouldn't he be confident in you? You must realize how important a decision this is."

"Important? But it's just a dress...right?" Mariella's eyes widened at that, and so Sarah figured that meant the answer was wrong.

"Sarah, this is your wedding announcement. Not only are you meeting members of the aristocracy, you are being _presented_ to them. Their first impression of you will set your rank and respect amongst the court and will also mark a number of paths for you and His Majesty as rulers in the future. And the first thing they will see, before your manners, before your grace, before your wit or anything else that may sway them, is you in this dress. It's not just about fashion, it's about the confidence you display while wearing it, it's about how comfortable you are fitting in to such an environment; it's about your ability to reflect or conceal aspects of yourself. Do you want them to see you as confident and regal? Or passionate and demure? This is all very important and in part hinges on your choice of attire," she paused to take a breath and then glanced about the room. "I think that may be why we've been given so many options...he wants you to feel ease and comfort, maybe even joy, because it is something you want to wear, something suited to you and not something forced upon you," her eyes gradually made their way back to Sarah's, "Now, you may call me romantic, but I believe His Majesty is telling you to just be yourself and not something you think you should be. That would be sweet, wouldn't it?" she asked, her ever abundance of giddiness spilling into other categories. Sarah pursed her lips and rose her brow.

"Um...I guess. But I think you're reading too much into this," she said and fell back onto the couch. It was kind of awkward today. For some reason Mariella had been throwing out cute little comments about her and Jareth all morning and she couldn't help but wonder why. True, giddiness and optimism were not uncommon for her, but today seemed different. It seemed forced.

As Sarah's mind briefly wandered, Mariella took a seat beside her.

"But that doesn't mean I'm wrong, does it?" she asked, throwing her a playful smile and quirk of a brow. Sarah stared at her absently, nowhere close to falling into that trap.

"I think it means you're more excited about this party than I am," she said and went to lay her arm on the armrest of the couch, only to recoil when she realized that it too was being suffocated by mounds of luscious cloth. She sighed then and shook her head. "...But I suppose it is a bit exciting isn't it? At the very least, we might as well try to get this out of the way if I expect to be able to find my bed under all this crap," she said, turning to give Marie a very unenthused smile as she stood and headed towards the dressers.

* * *

"Okay, okay, wait a minute. So you're saying this piece goes to this one, and that one to that? How can you tell? I thought dresses were supposed to be one piece?"

It didn't take long for Sarah's exasperation to reach its peak. This was all so confusing. She had no idea how intricate clothing could be. She didn't know the terms or the function or anything. Yeah, she used to dress up for drama club, but that was all just cheap handmade stuff from the thrift store. This was...real. She suddenly developed a great admiration for all the women who existed before the 20th century.

"Actually Sarah, gowns are quite different from ordinary dresses. Because they're so...ostentatious...it would be extremely difficult to don in one piece-"

"Well, I mean, I know there're corsets and petticoats and stuff...but I just don't see how you can call_ this _a dress." And by _this_, Sarah was of course referring to the distorted pile of sections and pieces currently lain out across her bed.

"Well...I can show you if you want," Marie replied, quietly suggesting Sarah actually put this thing on. Just the thought made her cringe.

"Um, I don't know about all that..." she said, rolling her eyes downward as she made a very unpleasant face. "I have a feeling that is a process I'll only want to go through once. So...I think I'll save it for when it counts," she said, foreboding thoughts and worrisome hyperbole running through her head. Mariella frowned, disappointed she wouldn't get to play dress up, but recovered almost instantly.

"That's alright. I understand this can all seem a little intimidating, but it's really not what you think. I've read some books on Aboveground attire, it is something that has always fascinated me, so I can only try to infer what you are dreading," she said and then scuttled over to wheel over a mannequin. "But no worries. I can show you how it is assembled on this," she said, with both smile and radiance in tow. Sarah let out a sigh of relief. "Although, to save some time, why don't we start by going through all these and you can pick out the patterns or styles that appeal to you and I'll assemble them after?" she suggested.

"Um, okay..." Sarah said and slowly drifted towards one of the open trunks. To say she was a fish out of water was an understatement. She may as well have been flopping around on the moon.

  



	90. The Fixx, part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While unbeknown to her, Sarah has succeeded in obtaining the one thing the Goblin King has desired for hundreds of years -power over the Labyrinth. After being hidden for years from his diabolical wrath, Sarah finds herself alone and vulnerable as Jareth's dark desires are finally aloud to rear their ugly heads. As always, the only question is, are things really as they seem?

Much to Sarah's surprise, delving into this bottomless wardrobe was not as daunting as she had anticipated. Because each gown was comprised of so many parts and each had so many interchangeable accessories, there really weren't as many as she had assumed -if you could call 15 or so minimal. With Mariella's help, she managed to narrow it down to about three, but it was still so confusing trying to picture them put together and on a person that her only real guideline was which pattern or material looked the prettiest.

There was one that was all gold and somewhat sparkly. It was almost garish actually, but it had a pretty floral design in white down the front. The next was mostly black, with gold embroidery and had a lot of poofy things whose purpose or placement she had no idea, but it was certainly interesting and so she chose it. The third was the most appealing to her visually, as it had the best balance of black and gold, the patterns were intricate but not overbearing and it even had lace and little dangling beads; however she wasn't sure how all that fit together, so she was still on the fence. As she glossed over her choices, Sarah found that the anxiety she was feeling in hope for Marie's blessing was stronger than expected.

"So um...what do you think?" she asked, desperately yearning for Marie's guidance. She didn't know what was "in" or what might look good on her...she wasn't even sure if she had proper "taste" at all. And it didn't help that Marie hadn't made so much as a peep of inquiry during the entire process.

Mariella stepped closer and tapped a finger against her lips.

"Hm...So is this what you've narrowed it to? Well, all of these would work. I think what matters now is what type of image you want to present," she said and leaned towards the first choice. "This one is certainly pretty, but it may be a touch too conservative..."

"Really?" Sarah asked, scrunching her brow and cocking her head to one side.

"Why yes. This is an event to flaunt yourself after all, to show the court what a catch you are-"

"I don't suppose you intended that to be a pun, did you?" Sarah asked, sarcastically. Mariella peered over before biting her lip in embarrassment.

"Well, no I suppose not, though it is true isn't it? I think this dress will depict you as a bit too reserved and regal and so may actually become a hindrance given your-" she cut herself short, realizing that what she was about to say wasn't exactly a compliment. Sarah narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms.

"Given my what?" she asked, expectantly. Mariella blanched and recoiled, trying desperately to mend her befuddlement.

"Your...crudeness," she said, eyes on the floor, and then immediately sprang them back to Sarah's. "But please don't take that as an insult! What I mean is that you are a fresh spirit! You haven't been tamed or conformed, I think the gown you choose should reflect that in a positive way. This gown is suited to someone who is more mature -not that you're immature by any means! But you're young and willful. I know Master Roldan views this as a poor quality but I believe it can make you highly desirable," she rambled in a panic. Her eyes darted all over the place, thus making her unable to see the smile Sarah was desperately trying to stifle.

"Marie. I get it. You can stop now," she said, her voice wavering with giggles. She knew Mariella wasn't trying to insult her, and even if she was she wouldn't have been too offended by it because it was true. She was crude and willful. Although, she was actually pleased with Marie's words. I_ believe it can make you highly desirable. I believe His Majesty is telling you to just be yourself and not something you think you should be. _Was there a reason she was saying these things? Was there a reason Sarah was starting to think it was true?

Marie met Sarah's gaze and sagged her shoulders as she sighed. She would never get used to this, to how benevolent Sarah treated her. She'd been punished countless times for accidentally insulting her masters, but no matter how careful she was it seemed her words just got carried away from her. It made her recall her encounter with His Majesty, and she realized that maybe the reason she was trying so hard today was in fact because she was still so nervous about last night...

"So the gold one is out. What about these two?" Sarah asked, trying to distract poor Marie from her pitiful blunder, and turned her attention back towards the bed. Marie did the same and tried to focus on the task at hand.

"I think these two are much more suited towards your personality, however...I'm not sure, this one might be too much in the opposite direction," she said, indicating Sarah's second choice -the one with all the poofs.

"It's the poofs, isn't it? I was thinking that too, but I don't really know what it's supposed to look like," she explained. Marie leaned forward and began arranging things.

"Well, you see these layers here? They go over your petticoat to give the skirt more volume, in this case much more volume. And there's also these pieces, they look like petticoats themselves, but they're actually sleeves-"

"Wait, what?"

"Yes...I think this may be a bit too gaudy for what we're going for," she said, her mouth in a hard line as she thought this over thoroughly. Sarah tried to mimic her, but it was just no use.

"I think I can picture it better now...yeah I don't know about all that. It seems a little...obnoxious."

"But this one on the other hand..."

Sarah's brow rose and she stepped back as Mariella randomly leaned over towards her third choice and she hoped that her sudden pensiveness was a good thing.

"I thought the lace was pretty," Sarah said, feeling the need to explain herself. She took another step back as Mariella began rearranging the pieces. Apparently, Sarah had it wrong.

"It actually goes like this," she said, smoothing out the fabric of the skirts and such. Sarah's eyes widened as she gaped a little. It looked a lot better this way.

"Oh, I didn't realize it went like that. C-could you...maybe...put that one on the mannequin?" she asked, tentatively, as if she were now embarrassed to have developed a genuine interest in the activity.

"Of course, I'll even explain what everything is so you can better understand," she said, back to her chipper self. Sarah sat on the edge of the bed. "First we'll start with a bustier and petticoat..." she said and began rummaging through Sarah's drawers until she pulled out what looked to be something like a corset, which was news to her. Apparently the dressers conformed to whomever opened them.

"Isn't that a corset though? What's a bustier?" she asked, already more engaged in this than any of Roldan's lessons. Mariella grinned as she fixed it on the dummy.

"No, this is something different. Think of it as a much less intense version of a corset. The bodice you've chosen is already well reinforced which means you won't need a corset underneath. However, you're a bit busty so I think you'd benefit from a bit of additional support," she said and reached for the underskirt next.

Now this was interesting, she couldn't really tell from lying flat, but the underskirt, like all the gowns Liana once showed her, was a high-low, falling to the floor in the back and yet only going to above the knee in the front. Hmm.

"Now sometimes there will be fillers, like with the second gown you picked. However, this one is a different style so the skirt is not so rotund," Marie explained and then took hold of a very large and complicated looking thing. "This is the main skirt. You've actually chosen a rather economical model, in that a lot of layers are combined. You simply slip this on like so...and there it is. And look, it even has this section here-" she said and pointed towards what, to Sarah, looked to be a big ribbon that covered the section from hip to navel. "This will make it so there is no irritation between your skin and the bodice, since there is no chemise, it also helps it look more like one piece."

"That material is so shiny and metallic...but when I touched it, it was so smooth. What is it?" Sarah asked. While the underskirt was black, this was bright gold and was stitched in layers that added volume and form. The way the light reflected off of it was mesmerizing. The highlighted areas became white, but the folds and areas in shadow became brilliant purples and reds and oranges. Like the petticoat, this skirt rose high in the front and draped along the floor in the back.

"It's a type of Lame'. However, even by our standards this is exceptional quality. I really must meet this seamstress..." Marie mumbled as she fastened on the bodice, tightening the ties in the back just enough.

The bodice itself was entirely black and gold embroidery of a lovely floral pattern made up of roses and thorny vines. The neckline was a sweetheart, the edges lined with lace trim with small jewels embedded and dangling. However, seeing it combined with the stark vibrancy of the skirt was a bit off-putting, and Sarah scowled as she examined it, as if blinded by its intensity.

"And now we have the overskirt-"

Sarah's attention flickered back to find Mariella lifting something heavy.

"What is that?" she asked, watching as the bulky fabric tumbled from Marie's arms as she held it out in front of her.

"This is called Brocade," she said, her eyes roaming hungrily over the sumptuous fabric as she appreciated such fine craftsmanship. "Isn't the pattern lovely? And look at that detail."

"Um, you said that's an overskirt?" Sarah asked. Marie blinked herself out of her daze.

"Yes. This fashions over your main skirt, mostly for aesthetic appeal, but it also conceals the seam between the bodice and skirt," she said, and proceeded with a demonstration.

Like a drape, the overskirt was simply wrapped around the waist, the ends of which were secured by two tiny hooks on either hips of the bodice. It was the same pattern as the bodice, and indeed succeeded in making it look like it was all one piece. It fell in circular layers like flower petals, the edges of each trimmed with the same lace and jewel-work as the bodice, and compensated for the intense gold of the main skirt. Sarah sat back and drank it all in. It was so decadent and beautiful. Seeing it put together now, on one hand it made her greatly excited and on the other she worried over how in the world she would be able to fill such a template. And even still, in the very far reaches of her mind she wondered if she had enough beauty to even match it, she wondered if she had made a good choice. She wondered what Jareth's reaction would be the first moment he saw her in it.

"So, um...is that it then?" she asked, spontaneously flustered with the tangent of her thoughts. Marie drew her brow on the subtle rouge to her cheeks but said nothing of it.

"Not quite, there are a few more pieces left to add," she said, a statement which had Sarah making a very perplexed expression.

"Huh? Like what? It look pretty complete to me," she said, eyeing Mariella intently as she gathered the last bits.

"Well, there's these for one," she said and held out a very long piece of black lace. From the way one end belled out she thought it was another skirt, but then realized the opposite end had a stitched cuff.

"What are those?" Sarah asked.

"They're arm bands...technically bell sleeves I suppose. You secure them around your bicep like so...see? Isn't that pretty?"

The arms on the mannequin were open wire, but the elastic in the cuff made it fit just the same. The lace bellowed down to end right at the knuckle and had small beads dangling along the rim. Mariella adjusted one of the arms to show just how wide they were. To Sarah the entire ensemble reminded her of a butterfly, those sleeves almost like wings. It was very strange, very evocative, and insanely beautiful.

"The only other things now are accessories, jewelry and such. This gown comes with a choker to match the sleeves...oh look, it even has a jewel in it. So detailed...Hm, anyway. You keep your jewelry on the vanity, no?" Mariella asked as she walked away. Sarah, still in half a daze, looked up and blinked in confusion.

"I don't have any jewelry," she said, and followed Marie to the vanity.

"None that you use perhaps. But haven't you ever wondered what is in all these drawers?" Marie asked playfully, smiling more fully when Sarah only looked more and more confused. "Here, why don't you sit and we'll see what we can find," she said.

Sarah took her seat in front of the mirror, waiting patiently. As Mariella went from drawer to drawer, Sarah's eyes wandered and caught on the picture wedged into the mirror. She frowned then, realizing just how long it had been since she last thought about them...

"Oh my, look at all this...His Majesty must truly cherish you to provide such exquisite gifts."

Sarah glanced up at the sound of Marie's voice, but she herself was so engrossed she didn't even notice. Sarah looked down into her lap then. Thinking of her family had put quite the sour on her mood.

"Why would you say he cherishes me?" she asked, cryptically. Mariella, unfazed, responded with a pip in her step.

"It is the male's job to pamper and cater to his female after all. Look at today for instance. You have all these beautiful clothes that you don't wear and all this breathtaking jewelry that you don't know exists. He knows you have no interest in this and yet he still provides it for you. It's like he's loving you in ways you cannot see. How wonderful and sad that is..."

By now the scowl had taken firm root on Sarah's face.

"Marie, why are you trying so hard to play match maker today?" she asked, only slightly offensive. Marie stopped what she was doing, her hand easing away from the jewelry box and her smile fading just the same. She looked down and forced a new smile.

"I...I'm not," she said, lying miserably. Sarah gave her a look calling out her bullshit, but she was unable to receive it.

"If this has to do with what we talked about last night, I don't see how it's contributing," she said, firmly, eyeing the way she fiddled with a ring in her hands.

"No...It's not that. I just...*sigh* this is going to sound incredibly selfish, and maybe it is, but I want tomorrow's celebration to be absolutely wonderful. I want you to look beautiful and I want to see you smile. I want to see His Majesty smile because you are smiling. I want you to exceed Master Roldan's expectations, and maybe even he will smile, because that...will make me smile. So maybe...I am trying to curb your demeanor because I know...you don't want part in any of this. Maybe if you see something good in him, you might be able to enjoy yourself and that might make it easier..." She almost jumped when Sarah's hand was suddenly on her shoulder. She looked up, expecting a scolding, but was once again blindsided by the warmth of Sarah's gaze.

"You're very kind. I'm really lucky and glad that you care so much when you don't have to. Thank you for trying to help, but Jareth isn't what I'm worried about. Compared to how much is riding on my interaction with everyone else, weighing the pros and cons of Jareth's personality is the last thing on my mind."

"Really?" Mariella asked, not expecting such a resolute response. Sarah pulled her hand away and shrugged, her eyes momentarily caught on the static image of Toby's smile and her arms wrapped around him.

"Well yeah...I know how important tomorrow is, and I know that even though it is a party for Jareth and I, it has absolutely nothing to do with me and him. This isn't about us having fun. It's about everything Roldan said. I have to show strength and quality. I have to guard myself yet assert myself. I need to support Jareth and earn the kingdom's favor. That's all I'm concerned about. I don't think it's possible for me to think of anything else."

Mariella frowned as Sarah spoke. There was much maturity in her words, it was something to be respected. But...

"I know that you're right...but I can't help but feel disappointed for you. This should be...such a wonderful and memorable occasion..."

"Oh, I'm sure it will be memorable," Sarah said, sarcastically, clearly not on the same level of solemnity as Marie. "Say, how come everything is gold and black?" she asked out of the blue. Mariella peered up but the frown remained. How could she be so casual about this? It was like she didn't even care. This was her engagement celebration to the king...she should have some sentiment about that.

"Well...gold is the traditional color of Conquest...coincidentally, gold and black are the colors of the Goblin Kingdom, so it fits," she said, dreadfully sober. Sarah hummed as she thought.

"Gold...conquest...so they're dressing me up like a trophy pretty much. I mean, that's what I am, right?" Sarah asked, and for a moment Mariella was worried that this would rile her up, after all it didn't take much where such things were concerned, and was thus surprised when Sarah shrugged and rolled her eyes. "Oh well I guess. I can't much complain if gold is the kingdom's color too. And my dress is really pretty so..."

"Sarah...are you alright?"

Sarah looked up to be met with an expression of horror on Marie's face. Sarah sat up a little...did she say something upsetting?

"Um...yeah? Why?" she asked. Mariella drew her brow as if suspicious.

"Nothing it's just...you didn't get angry." And as she said that, Sarah finally realized just how acceptable Marie's reaction was. She wasn't angry, was she? Normally she would go off on a rant about subjugation and objectification and labels, but she just...didn't see the point. While she still held all those view points, getting all worked up over it felt like a waste of energy. ..._Waste of energy_...Why did she get a flash of Jareth just then?

She shrugged again and played it cool.

"Yeah well, I dunno. I've got a lot more important things to worry about right?" _And maybe I should be thanking Jareth for giving me such clarity... _-oh, now that little interjection of conscience was unnecessary. Sarah found herself blushing as she tried to rid her mind of such thoughts...and images.

"Which is why you should try to think of it more cordially. Aren't you excited or nervous to share your first dance with His Majesty?" Sarah's attention came back to Mariella before the blush had worn and thus she was unable to shield herself when it came back full throttle. What Mariella didn't know was that Sarah had already had her first dance with Jareth, although she wondered why now all of the sudden that memory seemed much more intimate than it ever had before. Mariella saw the way Sarah was gaping and in misinterpretation grew excited once more. "Haven't you been thinking about it? All those lessons with Master Roldan and me? I suppose it is quite easy to forget you're actually training for someone else. And they are so...intricate...haven't you wondered?" she asked, hoping this time she would really get under her skin. She didn't know why, but the things she said yesterday didn't make sense. It felt as if she was expressing someone else's thoughts. She would never suggest Sarah engage in a purely physical relationship with the king. How ludicrous! And yet, those were the words she had said. Those were the words she had meant so earnestly. It was only after retiring that night, after thinking it all over, that she realized how strange it all was. Sarah was nowhere close to being the type who could handle that sort of endeavor. And regardless, Mariella wanted nothing more than to see His Majesty's love for her validated -in spite of Roldan if nothing else. So why would she say those things? Why would she set her up for disaster like that? And why...why was she getting flashbacks of that butterfly? Why was that important? What was she missing?

Quite frankly, she just didn't know. What she did know was that something was not as it seemed, and her only goal now was to rectify whatever she had said the day previous.

Sarah's eyes looked down into her lap as she pondered Mariella's words. No, she hadn't wondered. She'd been too distracted to ever think of something like that. But as it turned out, Marie was right, after thinking of it now she realized she was indeed nervous. Dancing with Roldan was tedious and irritating, but doing those moves, being so close to _Him?_ Now that was something else altogether. Maybe it was all due to what happened the day before, but now instead of anger and frustration, her thoughts of Jareth brought embarrassment and worry. She was worried. Worried that she couldn't follow through, that she wasn't strong enough to hold onto her own convictions. And dancing...why did she find that so terrifying?

"...You may be right...I mean, shouldn't we practice together? Since we're partners 'n all...I mean, yeah it's just a list of steps, but everyone has their own style. What if I mess up? What if I can't keep up with him? Especially in that dress..."

"That wasn't the type of worry I was talking about..." Mariella murmured, so indirectly that Sarah had to actually turn in towards her.

"What?" she asked. Mariella pursed her lips.

"Sarah...I've been thinking...and there's something I want to ask you about what we talked about last night." The dead seriousness of Mariella's posture had Sarah feeling worried. She didn't often speak this way.

"What about it?" Sarah asked, defensively. She had been working very hard on forming some sense of conviction in this decision and was fearful that it might be taken away. Why was she being so serious anyway? Hadn't she proposed this idea in the first place?

"Are you sure?" she asked. Sarah was silent for a moment. That question seemed too simple.

"What do you mean? Yes I'm sure...we already discussed this-"

"Yes we did, but I don't think I put enough emphasis on something." Sarah looked up to find Mariella staring straight at her and waited until they locked gazes before continuing. "If this is the course of action you wish to take, then you need to have total commitment, one hundred percent confidence and discipline. I just want to make sure you understand that or else things may end...badly. I don't want to see you hurt yourself because of a decision you weren't ready to make."

Again Sarah looked down, her hands starting to knot. Although she was always so bubbly, Marie had centuries of experience, age and so much wisdom; it was easy to forget that.

"So...you don't think I should do it?" she asked.

"That's not it. You're the only one who can decide if you should and if you can...but you _do need_ to decide...you need to decide if it's really necessary. I'm not trying to confuse you...it's just that I realize I made it seem like such an easy feat, and I don't want you to take anything for granted." Mariella's stare was intense but compassionate. She really didn't know what had gotten into her yesterday, but she hoped she didn't make things worse just now by placing even more doubt in her. She watched as she fiddled with her thumbs and crossed her toes. She was obviously taking these words to heart and that was all she could ask for.

"Alright..." Sarah mumbled, her face twisted in a deep scowl. "I hear you. I shouldn't jump into something I'm not ready for...maybe I should test the waters then? Find out what my limits are...how much I can invest..."

"I think that is the safest course to take," Marie said and placed a hand over Sarah's. Sarah looked up, trying to return the smile of reassurance Marie was giving her. "But that's enough serious talk I think. You've got enough to worry about right?" And with that Marie's smile grew larger and she turned back to the jewelry box in hopes of finding a distraction. "You know, it's rather strange..." she mumbled after a moment or two,

"What is?"

"There are so many beautiful things in here, but hardly anything will match your gown...Oh, wait a minute...look at this."

Sarah leaned forward as she watched Mariella's hand withdraw something from the drawer. It was a gold chain, a long one, and at its base was a pendant, a pendant of delicate metal work made to look like a sun. Sarah's eyes widened then, she had completely forgotten...

"That's mine," she stated, with a level of fervor enough to call back Mariella's attention.

"This is all yours silly," she responded, and then moved to lay the necklace out on the table top.

"No, I mean, this necklace is actually mine. I brought it with me from my world."

Mariella beamed then, her smile stretching wide.

"Really? Oh my how lovely! It must be special to you -I mean, I've never come across something you've brought with you, so I assume what you did bring was very special."

Sarah stared at the table as Mariella spoke, the tips of her fingers gently examining the pendant and all its interweaving tendrils. She couldn't believe it! How could she have forgotten she brought this with her? And even more, how did it end up in this box? The last thing she remembered of it was placing it on the vanity before going to bed that first night... Seeing it now however, brought back feelings and emotions she'd rather not have.

"I happened to be wearing it when Jareth took me, so...that's the only real reason, but… it used to belong to my mom. My dad gave it to me for my birthday..."

"Oh! See, it is special then," Mariella said, trying her best to breathe life back into the once merry mood.

"Yeah...I suppose," Sarah mumbled. This necklace...it was one of her only links back to her Aboveground life, but that link wasn't necessarily a good one. This necklace belonged to her mother -the woman who up and abandoned her and her father the moment they stood in the way of her acting career. Sarah was still young when she left and didn't fully understand, and ended up blaming her father, Karen and even Toby. She suffered for most of her childhood thinking she was trapped under the evil stepmother and that she was slowly being pushed out of her father's life...when she saw this pendant that's what she thought of. And yet...she had worn it that day. She had worn it for the sole reason that her father had given it to her, it was the last thing he had given her...

"A belonging to one parent and a gift from another? How come I have never seen you wear it?" Marie asked. Sarah shrugged, toying with the chain.

"I forgot about it I guess. It's not really a big deal."

"Of course it is! It is a mark of your family-"

"Heh, not a very good one," Sarah interrupted, huffing incredulously as she rolled her eyes. Mariella frowned, but that's when something hit her. Last night...Jareth had told her to make sure she was wearing the proper accessories. This necklace...it was the only gold piece of jewelry in the entire box, she knew that was no coincidence. Could it be that he wants her to wear this? But...why was he being so shady about it? Why not do it himself? Something was off, but she couldn't imagine what.

"What makes you say that?" she asked.

"My mom and I...we don't really have that good of a relationship. I mean, we didn't...She's the root of a lot of the problems I had growing up...sometimes I think that if it wasn't for her I never would have wished Toby away. I never would have come here...I wouldn't be here now."

It became very quiet all of the sudden.

"...Toby is your half-brother, correct? And the woman in the picture...she is not your mother...am I to assume that it is her absence that had caused those problems?"

"That's a delicate way of putting it," Sarah said, inwardly appreciating Mariella's consideration. "Yeah, she walked out on my dad and me and never looked back. I would sometimes get a call or post card from her on holidays...sometimes."

By now both women were frowning into their laps. Sarah was off lost in some thought, while Mariella wondered at Jareth's motivations for this scheme... She reached out and took hold of the necklace for closer inspection.

"But...if she hadn't left, then your bother Toby wouldn't exist, correct? I don't mean to undervalue your suffering...but maybe it was worth it to have had his love?"

"The word had is precisely the point. I don't have his love anymore. I don't have him anymore because I'm here, and I'm only here because I was angry and stupid enough to wish him away all those years ago. Maybe if I had listened better, been willing to understand the truth, maybe then I wouldn't have done it. But I didn't understand and I did do it...seeing that pendant only reminds me of it."

"I think you should wear it."

"What? Why?" Sarah's head darted up as if insulted and was surprised at the complacency and placidness of her expression.

"Because it was your mother's. Because it was a gift from your father. Because wherever there is pain there is also love and vice versa. The actions of the past are what shaped who you are today, whether or not you like it or wanted it, it should be respected and not taken for granted. This necklace was something beheld by both your mother and father, and you're lucky enough to have the chance to behold it yourself. Crying over the past and future will get you nowhere. How you choose to feel now is what will make all the difference." She stared at the pendant as it rested in her palm and only looked up when she was finished speaking. Taking Sarah's hand, she offered it back to its owner and squeezed her fist closed gently. "...I think you should wear it, because that sentiment pertains to more than just your family," she said and stood from her seat. Sarah's fist tightened of its own accord, and she could feel tiny pricks as the tips of the sun's metal rays poked into her skin.

"Where are you going?" she asked. Mariella paused and turned back around.

"I think we've got everything settled on. I was going to start cleaning everything up so that you can get some rest. It'll be a long day tomorrow and we leave for the lodge in the morning." Sarah stared dumbly for a moment. This was news to her.

"Really? Why so early?" she asked.

"To my understanding, Master Roldan thinks it will be beneficial for you to familiarize yourself with the grounds beforehand so that you'll be more comfortable once all the commotion starts," Marie explained, simultaneously packing the nearest trunk. Sarah stood, not quite knowing what to do with herself, her fist tightening once again.

"Um, oh. Okay. Well, let me help you then," she said and moved start folding this or that. Mariella was about to interject, but Sarah beat her to it. "And before you tell me no, if I help we'll finish twice as fast and I can be in bed that much sooner," she said, slamming down the lid of a trunk.

* * *


	91. The Fixx, part 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While unbeknown to her, Sarah has succeeded in obtaining the one thing the Goblin King has desired for hundreds of years -power over the Labyrinth. After being hidden for years from his diabolical wrath, Sarah finds herself alone and vulnerable as Jareth's dark desires are finally aloud to rear their ugly heads. As always, the only question is, are things really as they seem?

It was abnormally quiet after Marie left. They had finished packing things away in no time at all, but it was barely seven-thirty and she was nowhere near tired. She laid on her bed, staring at the surroundings and enjoying the peace and quiet. Normally, she hated being alone in this room. That sense of isolation was painful. And yet tonight, she was enjoying the solitude. It didn't feel lonely. She didn't feel...alone.

She spent much time examining her dress as it stood prettily next to her bed. Mariella was right, she was starting to get excited. The assembly of it turned out to be nowhere near as traumatic as she had thought, and she had never imagined this was the sort of thing she would get to wear. She was actually...looking forward to it now. How queer.

She would lay half off the bed and reach out to run a hand up and down the different material. It was all so thick and heavy and soft. She honestly couldn't picture herself wearing such a thing. It made her wonder what kind of outfit Jareth would have.

A few hours went by, and still she was content with the silence. She and Marie had talked about quite a lot for one day, and so she had more than enough to mull over.

She rolled onto her back, away from the dress, and flinched when there was a sharp jab in her back. She angled away and realized it was her necklace. She picked it up, flopping back down into the pillows, and examined it. Mariella's words regarding this were deep and deserving of consideration. She turned the sun around and around, counting its many rays. Was it a sun? Or was it a flower? She could never tell. She held it out, and the chain, thin and cold, sent tingles down her arms as it grazed her skin.

She had told Marie that seeing this made her think of her mom, but that wasn't all. Seeing this also made her think of that night, the night of her birthday. She was wearing this when Jareth came for her, when she had seen him for the first time in years, when he had completely shattered her world.

She tried to shake the memory, to get him out of her head but it was no use. Her memory of him from that night was so much different than her image of him now. Then he was psychotic...evil, perverted, cruel...but what was he now? The fact that she was even thinking that question is what truly bothered her, the fact that seeing this pendant brought up that question. She was still pretty sure he was psychotic, although...she may be starting to understand that better. He was still perverted, maybe even more so. And he was still cruel...although...in a different way, a way that was arguably worse. But given that logic, why did she view the Jareth from that night as worse than the one now? Sure, they understood each other better now, they had some moments, but was he really a different person? In her mind she thought no, so was she the one who changed? Had they both changed? Was the change so gradual that neither of them could notice? Or had neither of them changed...maybe they were each exactly the same. So why...why did she feel...

She had to look away then. This damn necklace was invoking emotions she was better off without. It was like Marie had told her, if she was going to go down this path she had to be one-hundred percent committed to it. She shouldn't be thinking of feelings for Jareth when she was trying to avoid feelings for Jareth.

But again, no matter what it was she just couldn't get him out of her head. Maybe it was because she was alone. Maybe it was because the last time she'd seen him she'd sent him away after what had been a very pivotal moment for them. Maybe she was still unsure about that to begin with...

And that's when she realized something, the next time she would see him would be at the party. He had told her how busy he would be, that they wouldn't meet again until then. Was he coming with her to the lodge tomorrow morning? Or was that trip just for her? The more she thought about this, the more unsettled she became. _Haven't you ever wondered what it would be like? Having your first dance with him?_ Oh God. Why did she have to say that? Roldan had told her how it worked, that she would enter alone and the party wouldn't officially start until Jareth "found" her, and at that moment the Introduction dance would begin. That meant there would be no time to talk, to just say "Hey how've ya been? Those scratches heal okay? Oh what am I saying you've got magic!" _Geezus...that's right, we haven't talked since then...we haven't talked about "then"...How freaking awkward can this be! As if I don't have enough to be stressed about!_

She rolled onto her stomach and smothered her face into her pillow. She knew already that she was not good in these types of situations. She didn't know if she would be able to handle it. Not only did she have to worry about poise and manner and non-eye-contact but she also had to keep a leash on her pheromones. _Perhaps this is his way of showing he has confidence in you..._

She groaned loudly into her pillow. _Goddamn it Marie_... She scowled and sighed roughly as she rolled back over and held the pendant out in front of her.

"Maybe...I should go see him..." she murmured aloud, and surprisingly didn't recoil immediately afterward. Just thinking about seeing him soothed the anxiety of tomorrow. They didn't need to talk. They didn't need to do anything...just being there was enough. Why...why did she want that? It was weird how much she longed for his company, even in the beginning when she was sure she wanted nothing of him. Back then, she just didn't want to be alone. Now...

This would also be a good opportunity to do as she had said and test her limits. It would be better to do it before the party, something small so she would be better prepared should he pull anything tomorrow night when all eyes would be on her... But did she really need all this justification? Wasn't she just being a hypocrite? At the very least she was contradicting herself... The only thing that was clear was that she wanted to see him before the party. No, she wanted to see him tonight. She rose her head and let the chain fall around her neck, then brought the pendent close to her face. Maybe Marie was right about it. Maybe that sentiment was about something more. Maybe she should stop worrying about what could be and worry about what is. With her fingers toying with the pendant which just hung over her heart, she stood and walked towards the door.

* * *

She held her hand tentatively as she reached out for the door. She didn't know why, but she felt very nervous all of the sudden. She thought that maybe it wasn't so much nerves as it was annoyance. She hated seeking him out, hated seeming like she needed something from him, even when she did. But more than that, she had no idea if he was even in there. It was well past eleven and for all she knew he could be sleeping, and walking in on that was just too embarrassing a scenario. Her first instinct was just to walk right in as she always did, but this time she stopped. She felt like she was intruding, especially since he said he was busy. Since when had she become so considerate towards him? No, the proper thing to do is knock, but that felt even more awkward. She'd never knocked on his door before, what kind of message would that send? Why was she over-analyzing this?

After thirty seconds of feeling like an idiot, she held her breath and knocked twice. She didn't wait for an answer however, but shyly eased the door open. Her fingers curled around the edge of the door and cautiously she peeked out around it with her gaze at the floor. She took a few steps and closed the door behind her, but was then stuck in place when she looked up.

She hadn't thought about it, but this was the first time being in his room after _that night_. And standing there now, in the same spot as before, it hit her in a way more profoundly than anticipated. Her gaze caught that chair and she was forced to look away. She played it off casually however, making it seem like she was simply inspecting the surroundings. When her eyes rolled back around, they landed on Jareth, sitting quietly behind his desk.

"Um...Hi," she said, her hands still nervously gripping the doorknob behind her. Jareth drew his brow and shifted as if to stand.

"...Is something the matter?" he asked, his expression serious as he gradually stood from his seat.

"No..." she said and let the word linger. She felt awkward now. Her feet just wouldn't budge.

"Did you need something?" he asked and she shook her head no. He drew his brow tighter then, as if he were confused, and that's when she realized that he honestly didn't think she would come to him without an explicit reason. The look on his face made her sad, because it was true.

"I just...I don't know...never mind. I can see you're busy so I'll go. I don't want to intrude on you," she said, keeping her gaze everywhere but at him. She gave a flustered smile and turned to leave. Her hand still on the knob turned, but just as the door eased open it was again pushed shut, the handle torn from her grasp.

"Wait-" She heard his voice from somewhere very close and looked up to find his hand pressed firmly against the door. "Don't leave...you're not intruding. You can stay if you'd like," he said, his voice soft and gentle, but Sarah was still busy grasping the fact that he teleported just to stop her from opening the door.

"Are you sure? You said you would be busy..."

"I also said you would have to seek me out if you wanted to see me." His voice had such a nice drawl when he was being sincere, low and smooth. Sarah closed her eyes and tried to ignore the warmth that radiated from his torso unto her. She wasn't sure how to respond, but thankfully he lowered his arm from the door and took a step back allowing her to breathe once more. She turned around to face him, but was fettered with how close he still was. "So...why have you come to see me, then?" he asked, genuinely curious. He wasn't sure how things stood after yesterday, but he wasn't going to push it. He would wait for her to come to him and now she had. That could only be a good thing right?

"I...I don't know. I thought I should see you once before the party...I guess," she said, not able to meet him in the eye. She stared at his nose instead. Jareth smiled then, faintly, and she scowled at it. He was picking on her. "Ya know, never mind. I knew this was stupid. I'll just go back," she grumbled, using false irritation to motivate her body. Her hand wrapped around the handle again, and then his went around hers.

"I asked you to wait," he said, which struck her as odd, as his tone was that of a command but he was proclaiming a request. Nonetheless, she ceased her efforts and tried to slip out of his hold. He held on tighter. "If you're nervous, I'm glad you came to me. I...would like you to stay." He wasn't really used to this whole "asking" business, but then again it was something he expected from her as well. If he asked her and she listened simply because of that, well, the point of commanding became rather moot.

"You'll have to release my hand first," she said, staring off in a pout as she waited for him to obey. He smiled again and let go of her hand. She was trying to be cool, but she only succeeded in being as transparent as ice.

He turned and walked away from her, collecting a binder and some folders from the desk, before gesturing her towards the fire.

"Make yourself at home," he said, cheekily. What she didn't realize was he was just plain happy she was even there. He never thought she would come to him, hell he thought she was probably mad at him, for no reason other than she always was. But that didn't matter anymore, not with this new "understanding" in order.

She sat on the end of the couch, as far away from him as possible, and tried her best not to stare at the chair which, incidentally, stood right beside her. She was closer to it now, and even though the lighting was dim, she thought she could make out tears in the leather. She looked away from it with a frown. Instead, she looked in the opposite way towards him. He had taken a seat without so much as a glance towards her.

He was quiet, sitting on his own respective side with a pile of folders and such between them. He had a strange air about him, or maybe she was the one feeling strange. She watched him carefully: the way he scowled as he read, the way he shifted his legs as he propped his boots up on the coffee table, the way his breathing shallowed as he became more focused on what he was reading. These mannerisms were all so normal and familiar to her, she didn't know why she expected anything different.

"Find anything interesting?"

She blushed beet read when his eyes then languidly rose to hers, his gaze sharp and darkened, and she realized discretion was the last thing on her mind.

"What?" was her immediate reaction.

"You're staring at me quite intently. Is there something you wish to say?" he asked, and it struck her at how candidly they were speaking. Were things really that different after their coital-ragefest? No, it was because of the ragefest that she was over-analyzing things now. God, she could barely look at him without getting flashes from it, not just yesterday but in the dungeons too. The more she tried to stop thinking about it the more vivid the images became. She was still staring at him, having completely ignored his question, and exhibited a steady blush as an unwelcome heat bloomed deep in her chest.

"Sarah."

She snapped back to reality to find he had set his binder down and was turned towards her, his attention somewhat puzzled as he stared down on her. Her eyes grew wide and she looked away.

"Sorry...I just...have a lot on my mind...pressure and everything," she said, using the break in eye-contact to lull her heart.

"If you're feeling stressed I can find a way to help with that."

Sarah froze in her spot, forcing herself to stare out at the fire so not to fall into the trap of his gaze. His voice was playful and sensuous. It sounded more like the real him.

"I'm sure you think you can," she said, defensively. God knows she needed to be. She stiffened when he moved towards her and she could tell his gaze was roaming all over her in the name of "concern". The proximity between them vibrated with tension, though she was fairly sure she was the only one feeling it.

"Your cheeks and your neck are flushed. Are you feeling okay?" he asked, a not so subtle euphemism. Sarah ground her teeth. It was as if feeling his gaze on her was worse than simply seeing it.

"The fire is kind of warm," she said and immediately regretted the line she'd set him up for.

"...I can help you with that as well." And there it was. She actually laughed and shook her head at how corny he could be. "Your laughter is exasperated. Are you really that troubled? Roldan tells me how well you've been doing. You'll be fine," he said, still watching her intently. Sarah's hands, which had been in her lap, moved to rest on the seat of the couch and she couldn't stop the flinch and recoil when one of those hands touched one of his. Seeing that kind of reaction made him realize just how on edge she was, and he wondered what exactly was plaguing her mind.

Trying to play off her recoil, she continued raising her hand to brush her hair behind her ear.

"Yes well, theory and practice are two different things," she said, sighing heavily and sagging back against the couch a bit. It was strange, being near him had made her so unnerved, and yet being near him made her feel so relieved. Both reactions stemmed from different reasons, and she thought she may explode if any one of them collided. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Jareth, now having moved closer than she realized, narrowed his eyes on her and frowned.

"Sarah...why are you here?" he asked. She opened her eyes but scowled, then brought her hands up to claw down her face.

"Do you not want me here?" she countered.

"That has nothing to do with what I asked," he retorted. She sat up then, turning to face him and threw her arms up and let them fall in her lap.

"Because I'm freaking out, okay? This is a really big deal isn't it? You can't tell me you're not terrified that I'll do something devastating," she said, her stare now a glare as she willfully met his own.

"Actually, I can," he said. Sarah rolled her eyes.

"Okay, you can't tell me you're not terrified and mean it, how about that?"

"And what gives you the authority to say that?" he asked, dead serious. The way his eyes bore into her only made her more flustered.

"Okay, what about yesterday? What if I do or say something that I shouldn't? What if I offend someone? You're really not at all concerned about that?" she asked, her voice raising an octave or two. Jareth quirked a brow, his expression now bored.

"There was a reason for what you did yesterday, no?" he asked, calmly, simply. Sarah withdrew into herself.

"...Yes, but that's not the point."

"That is precisely the point. I am concerned that you may slip up from time to time, but I do not think you would go out of your way to cause trouble for me," he said and began to lean forward. As she leaned away, she realized he'd had an arm along the back of the couch this whole time and so became caged when his right hand wrapped around her thigh. "Especially since any trouble you cause for me will be even greater trouble for you." The tone of his voice made his words sound bawdy, leaving her confused as to whether or not he was actually threatening her. His grin however, she could discern and the shade that cast over his eyes was a signal of something all too familiar. He leaned in further and ran his nose along the corner of her jaw. "Cause and Effect, right my sweet?" he asked, oh-so innocently as he nipped at her earlobe. The heat of his breath sent a shiver down her spine and she quickly tore herself away from it. However, she was already backed into the corner of the couch, she only had so much room left.

"Okay fine, but what if I do something on accident? What if I say, trip during one of the dances and knock over some king or queen? What if I make a huge fool of myself and you? I mean, I've never worn a dress like that before and I've never done those dances before-"

"So you picked out your dress?"

The simple pleasure in Jareth's voice was enough to cancel out Sarah's anxiety with sheer amazement. She looked at him with combative eyes.

"Yes Jareth, I picked out my dress. Good thing someone's got their priorities in check," she said sarcastically, and folded her arms across her chest. She had to angle herself to face him to gain more breathing room, although she knew how vulnerable that now made her. She gasped when his face was suddenly at her neck once more.

"...I bet you'll make it stunning," he whispered, his lips just barely touching her skin as he spoke. "And besides...Roldan has been training you day after day, you've danced those numbers plenty of times..." his mouth moved lower with each word, until his breath was grazing along her clavicle.

"Not with you."

Jareth paused then, but Sarah was already holding her breath. He peered up to her face and saw her eyes closed tightly as if bracing for impact. He started to pull away, but not before catching the glint of the chain that hung around her neck, and for just a moment he smiled something malicious.

  



	92. The Fixx, part 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While unbeknown to her, Sarah has succeeded in obtaining the one thing the Goblin King has desired for hundreds of years -power over the Labyrinth. After being hidden for years from his diabolical wrath, Sarah finds herself alone and vulnerable as Jareth's dark desires are finally aloud to rear their ugly heads. As always, the only question is, are things really as they seem?

Sarah opened her eyes when she felt him pull away and glanced down to find him already staring up at her and for some reason, his expression struck her. His eyes were so blue. They were so livid, each sliver a different shade of beauty and she loved how she alone could gaze into them so intently. But she hated their coldness, how piercing they could be. Her own eyes were a dark green, and it felt so unfair how they could never wield that kind of potency; and yet to Jareth, it wasn't that her eyes pierced him so much as they devoured and swallowed him whole.

She watched the frown as it marred his face the longer they stared at one another, and she too felt the corners of her brow start to sag.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were terrified of me," he said, the starkness of his words cutting her just as sharply as his gaze.

"Wha? I'm-"

"Which is rather ironic, as I remember a time when you actually were terrified of me, and that was less discomforting than the way you tremble before me now."

Her eyes widened further. His words, so sweet and so simple, rendered her dumb. Was she really so nervous? Why was he acting so different tonight? Why was he being so _decent_? Why was she instead missing the deviant?

He stood from the couch and walked away, Sarah's addled gaze following closely. She shifted on the couch to watch him as he stopped to stand next to some strange contraption lining the wall. His body obstructed the view of what he was doing, but soon she heard a sound begin to resonate softly. She too stood from the couch and tip toed her way closer.

"Is that...a record player?" she asked, warily, bending to peer around him rather than approaching any more than she had to. Jareth took a step back and the music grew louder.

"It's a variant on a phonograph, actually," he said and turned back to face her. "Do you recognize the song?" he asked. Sarah listened carefully, but to no avail.

"No... It sounds pretty though. I don't listen to much classical music," she said, standing awkwardly as her bare feet shifted on the floor.

"Listen to the beat," he said and so she did. She tried counting the rhythm and then a lightbulb went off.

"This is...the Partner?" she asked, skeptically. Roldan only had two or three variants that they practiced with. She hoped she would be able to keep up at the party if they played something she didn't know. Jareth stepped towards her and took her hand and raised it between them.

"It's been bothering me actually," he said, his gaze cast absently. The way they stood, his back was facing the window. The moonlight now cast a shadow over his face and so she tilted her head to get a better look at him.

"What?" she asked.

"I become greatly aggravated when I think of how Roldan was the one to share your first dance. But not only the first, he has the second and third and -"

"Well that's your own fault. I asked why you weren't the one teaching me, remember?" she interjected, and to that he had no choice but to concede.

"At the time it seemed...inconsequential." He stepped closer on the last word, his eyes glazing over with something of singular intent and leaned down to speak in her ear. "I want to see your skills."

"What?" Sarah asked, mildly panicking. Her heartbeat picked up quickly, Mariella's words from earlier serving as no deterrent.

"You're worried about fumbling on the dance floor, are you not? Dance with me." The hand that held hers pressed against both their chests as he wrapped an arm behind her and pulled her in close. His hand on her back flexed and pulled the fabric of her nightgown and he turned to nuzzle his face in her hair. "I think it may do us both some good," he said and gently swayed them to and fro. Sarah swallowed hard but let it be. This was about testing her limits after all right? She was willing to chock all her frazzleness up to her new and awkward sexuality, but that was still purely physical. Resisting the urge to be touched by him, trying to picture him with _all _of his clothes on, that was only natural after the way they left things last time...right?

It had nothing to do with emotions. Nothing at all.

"You want me to dance with you? In here?" she asked, glancing about the tiny room that Jareth called home. It was only about half the size of hers after all, the empty spot they were standing in was only about a ten foot gap between the desk and the couch.

He pulled away and smiled down at her suggestively.

"Are you ready?" he asked, his eyes alight with that of the moon. Sarah rose her brow at the cockiness of his stare.

"What, you don't think I can keep up with you?" she asked: challenged accepted. Jareth's smile broadened.

"Well, you have been limited to that of Roldan after all. What is it you used to call him? Mr. Stickuphisass?" His playfulness had her smiling for the first time that night and she found her hand squeezing his in return.

"Oh, I still call him that," she said, holding his gaze as he took the first step forward, moving them slowly and each paid no mind as if they weren't moving at all.

"Good, I find it's growing on me more and more with each passing day," Jareth said, carrying on in a steady motion about the small space allotted. Sarah couldn't help but enjoy herself, his poise was so charming. She let it continue on for a moment, content in this strange twilight zone.

"You were wrong you know," she said after several minutes. Jareth looked down to her and rose a questioning brow.

"About what?" he asked. Sarah, mimicking his sophisticated manner, kept her head held high and directed away from him.

"Roldan didn't have my first dance. You did. Do you remember?" she asked. Jareth didn't respond, not right away. It wasn't so much her question that struck him as it was that she had brought it up at all. She wasn't concerned when he didn't answer, but felt his hand tighten around hers and looked up to him. She didn't realize he was already staring.

"Yes, I remember. Although that was actually a Selection dance," he said, his expression and tone much more serious than just moments before. She gave him a blank stare, not comprehending why he was now so dour.

"Well, either way, that was still my first dance," she said, with a grin she didn't know was there. He continued to stare at her, and for a moment it was like they were there again. The room was white, the air hummed, and she stared on at the world tentative and excited for all the things she didn't know he could give her, and he yearned for her and all of those things; and as the moonlight glinted off her necklace and as his eyes traveled down it, he wondered if he knew what was truly important and which lie mattered more.

"You never answered my question," he mumbled, his voice low and distant. Their gazes met, but she was unable to discern the pensiveness in his.

"What question?" she asked. His hand tightened a little.

"Are you ready?"

"Am I ready?"

"To dance."

"...Aren't we already?" she asked, looking about with confusion. They'd been swaying along for some time now; however, that was when she became fully aware of it and the hand, which she had just now realized was resting against his chest, constricted and pulled at the fabric of his shirt.

"Not hardly," he said, the sound of his voice breaking the tension between her gaze and the hand on his chest. She relaxed her fingers immediately.

"In my world, this is what you would call slow-dancing," she said, still keeping her head lowered and her gaze far away from his. "It's nice...because there aren't any steps to learn or rhythm to match. You just...move with one another."

"I see..." Jareth said, slowly reaching up to take hold of the hand she kept on his chest. "However...I think I'd like to move with you a little more," he said and before she knew it he was spinning her away from him. His fingers laced with hers as he pulled her so her back was flat against his torso. One arm, entwined with hers, moved around her abdomen and hooked on her hip, while the other rose her arm to wrap around the back of his neck.

Sarah stopped, having not been ready for his movement, and tried to remember what came next. She knew this move...and after it came- a side step? A shuffle? A turn? She knew this. She knew this. But her heart had skipped a beat when the hand holding hers at his neck languidly traveled down, the friction of his fingers against the sleeve of her nightgown being her every and only sense. His head lowered and he turned to kiss her ear as he took a step forward, the hand with hers on her hip guiding her forward. She closed her eyes briefly and tried to think. These were steps. She knew this. So what came next? What came next? Why was she drawing a total blank?

The hand on her hip rose so that both her arms were around his neck, and then, stopping their movements completely, he dragged his hands down from her elbows to her ribcage, to the curve of her waist, to the round of her hips; and although the music sang loudly behind them, the only sound filling Sarah's ears was that of her quivering breath. She closed her eyes again and blocked it all out.

"Don't forget to hang on," he whispered, just as one hand reached lower under the hem of her skirt. Sarah's eyes sprang open and on reflex her hands braced around his neck, leaving her only half-surprised when his hand tightened around the back of her thigh and pulled it to the side before lifting her from the ground and slowly turning them in full circle, and then set her down once more.

His hand pulled and scrunched up the front of her nightgown as it traveled back to her arms, the pressure of his palm feeling and kneading suggestively along the way. His hand enveloped hers and as if on instinct, Sarah's body reacted in perfect tandem. She knew this move, as it was one of the more awkward ones to perform with Roldan. After the spin...his hand would take hers...and she would release the other and let it fall...then she was supposed to lower...like in a curtsy...and he would lower with her, keeping her from falling as he grasped for the hand she kept purposefully out of reach. She felt his hand tightened around hers. She felt her body go lax. And she felt the heat that moved between them.

His gaze was cast low, his eyes shrouded in shadow, but she could feel them on her as he moved closer to her. Her eyes on the other hand, were wide and brazen, her mouth opened slightly as she caught secret breaths. They were moving much slower than Roldan ever had, and they were much closer than Roldan had ever been. She was impressed and dazed by the strength Jareth had to hold her steadily whilst moving so slowly. And as they sank lower and lower to the floor, as the heat from their bodies became slowly suffocating, she realized her mouth wasn't open because she needed to breathe. It was open because she was about to kiss him.

The hand of her dangling arm hit the floor, and was no sooner captured by Jareth's. He lifted her up and, before she could thank him for breaking the tension, spun her away. She knew this move as well, and knew to turn with his hand in such a way that would force him to turn as well, and so by the time they met they were back to back.

There seemed to be pause, although it was probably all in Sarah's mind, and she used it to take a deep breath. She was facing an empty wall now, and she was relieved to be out of his gaze. However, this reprieve didn't last long. She was still holding onto Jareth's hands, and so was pulled to the side when he stretched out one of his arms. She listened to the beat of the music and timed her steps right. First a side-step, then a back-step, release hands, side-step, resume.

She kept her eyes lowered as she moved to stand before him once more, resuming their original pose. She had done this countless time with Roldan, and yet this time felt like a completely new experience. Was it because he was moving so slowly? Was it because he was purposefully breaking his timing? It seemed the way he was leading her had nothing to do with the music, nor the moves themselves. All that mattered was the movement between them. The way they fit seamlessly.

"You doing alright?"

Again, Sarah's gaze sprang forward, straight into his. It seemed like she was hovering on the edge of total emersion and eminent implosion, but the way he was staring at her reflected none of this. He looked calm, fitting naturally into the environment; and yet here she was quietly losing her shit. She wondered if he knew, if he could see it written plainly across her face. Did he know why she had come here tonight? Did he know what she was after? He must, as that was precisely what he was giving her. As she gazed into his eyes, she started scolding herself inwardly. This was pathetic. She was over-thinking all of this and she knew it. She'd come here with the intention of testing the waters, but what she was really doing was setting herself up for disaster. It was bad enough to lie to herself, but to indulge that lie by pretending not to know. No, this reconnaissance mission had failed before she had even started. Her attention was too high, her nerves haywire. She had opened herself up without him ever realizing it and he was seducing her pitifully. But what was worse, she was letting him. She wanted him to. She wanted to fail.

"What? Yeah...I'm fine," she said, blushing as she glanced away. Jareth tilted his head as he regarded her, curious to what she was really feeling.

"You're doing very well. I must say...it is a pleasant surprise," he said, to which she said nothing. He looked at her carefully then, looked at the way the silver light of the moon masked the rouge of her cheeks, looked at the way she bit her lip nervously and the tension in her brow as she tried not to look back at him, and he realized how embarrassed she must be. He had been selfish up until now. Moving with her had given him such sweet escape. Not a single thought had passed through his mind. He commanded her so naturally just now, her body surrendering so delicately. She was like a flower wilting in his palm and he cherished every moment of it. Did she realize it? Was she aware of the way her body trembled for him? Of the way she smiled when he spun her? Was she aware of how much he adored her? Of how hopeless she had made him with just one hitch of her breath?

No...She didn't, did she? She didn't know any of this...just like he didn't know any of what she was feeling in kind. He hated to recall it now of all times, but perhaps Roldan was right...he was afraid of simply telling her, when they had moments like this instead. Words were harsh, words were concrete, words were vulnerable. But this was enough for him, to have her in his arms and not push him away, to make her shiver with something other than fear or apprehension. This was all he needed to show his love for her, regardless of whether or not she was able to see it as such.

"Surprise? So you didn't think I could keep up with you then?" Sarah asked, jokingly, trying to lighten the mood before it crushed her heart. Jareth smiled and twirled her again, when she came back he wrapped an arm around her and dipped her low.

"No...What I find surprising is how well we fit together," he said, bending forward as her back arched, his face getting much too close to hers. His eyes scanned her over, and when she refused to respond he deflected to something else. "I see you're wearing your necklace again," he said, pulling her upright. His hand at the small of her back held her close to his torso, but to avoid another daze like before, she instead brought her hand to his shoulder.

"Um...yeah. I am," she said, tentatively. Jareth's eyes peered downward as he observed her.

"You haven't worn it for quite some time...may I ask what changed?" The fact that she was wearing it meant Mariella had done well, though he was still curious to find out how. Sarah shrugged and turned her head away.

"I don't know...Marie came across it when we were looking for accessories...I forgot I had brought it so...I don't know, I just wanted to wear it I guess," she said and paused when his hand moved higher up her back.

"I see...I'm glad then," he said, earning him a direct gaze from Sarah.

"Hm? Why?" she asked. Jareth kept his gaze straight ahead.

"Because it is important to you...it isn't just some silly trinket or other, is it? And besides, you were wearing it the first moment I saw you the night of our reunion. That memory may not be a favorable one to you, but to me...I became overwhelmed with excitement."

"I think we agreed that is precisely why I find that memory _unfavorable_," Sarah grumbled. Jareth looked down to find her scowled away from him, a look which shifted to surprise when she felt his hand suddenly wrap around the back of her head and press her against his chest. With his fingers flexing into her scalp, he leaned down and kissed the top of her head and spoke softly into her hair.

"I know...I'm sorry."

Sarah ceased her swaying then, her body tensing against his grasp.

"What?" she asked, pulling away to look up at him with disbelieving eyes. Her brow drew tight as if she were angry, and he in turn drew back at such a reaction.

"I am sorry for the pain I caused you that night," he said, his eyes and his tone serious and focused. Sarah's brow drew tighter still. "I believe I've already apologized for that...in one argument or another...but it felt like the natural thing to say."

"You've always said you're not sorry for taking me," she said, her nerves finally starting to show through. This wasn't good. This wasn't good at all. She thought she had been doing moderately well, all her butterflies belonging to tension of a sexual nature. She might not be able to handle that, but she could accept it. But...but this...They were about to breach very sensitive territory and all she could think of was Mariella, telling her to be confident and convicted and disciplined, while she already knew that she was none of those things. She was getting over her head here. The nicer he was, the more insecure she became. It was going to be hard not loving him if he didn't give her reasons not to...

"I know. And I'm not. But I think I'm starting to understand...I caused you unnecessary pain. As per usual, I went about things in all the wrong ways, because I was excited, because I was impatient, because I was angry." The hand holding hers let go and wrapped around her back, embracing her as the music carried on without them. Sarah held her breath, counted to three, closed her eyes, anything to stop herself from getting lost in this moment. "I understand that a lot of things I've done have been unnecessary...and I will admit that most of those things have been to punish you. You're fun to torment...you're fun to tease. When I get carried away...I do it because you've hurt me as well."

It was quiet for a moment, even the music seemed to lull; as they stood stock still, Jareth's arms held tightly around her and her own arms at her chest created a wedge between them.

"Why are you saying this?" she asked, quietly, giving in to lay her cheek against his sternum. She could feel the steady beat of his heart and realized that she too was inexplicably calm.

"Because I'm not playing with you anymore," he said and forcibly took her hand as he resumed their dance. Sarah's feet went along with him, too contemplative to resist. Indeed, he wasn't playing was he? Ever since their talk in the garden, Jareth seemed to be a lot more serious, and even a lot less violent. He was starting to look like a real person to her, a person she could stand up to and look square in the eye. Before then...it seemed like she had to look up so far just to find some level with him. But not now...now...it was like she didn't have to look at him at all.

"Sometimes...I feel like there are two of you running around here," she said, pressing her cheek harder against his chest as they moved. There were many different ways to execute the Partner, and it seemed Jareth was employing them all. Although they were moving somewhat faster than before, the intensity was much less. There were times when he would dip her, turn her, move with her in ways she was unaccustomed to, though her body would always conform. She didn't know if it was all thanks to Roldan's lessons, or if it could really be something as simple as chemistry which bound them together.

"You're not alone in that sentiment," Jareth said, smiling to himself.

"So I'm right then, you're the one who's crazy," she said, hiding her gasp when he suddenly bent her backward. His eyes were languid as they traveled up her, his head lowering as he took in her sent from navel to bust.

"Arguably," he said, just as his eyes rose to hers, and she felt another blush coming as she analyzed just how vulnerable of a position he had her in. The hand supporting her back flexed and the other meandered up her thigh and she shivered when he then pulled on her leg and hooked it around his hip.

He straightened her up, but held her leg in place. Sarah gulped and stared down at his throat. He in turn stared down at the way her chest moved as she breathed, the flush of her skin becoming even more apparent under the night light, and his thumb kneaded subconsciously at the back of her thigh. The skirt of her gown rose the higher he supported her leg, until it pooled just along her groin. And the way she gulped down her nerves and the quivering glisten that shown on her eyes was an image of such sweet submission, he was sure to be woken from a dream with even the slightest pin drop.

His eyes zeroed in on the way her tongue ran nervously along her lip and he realized that she had no idea what she was doing to him. His free hand ran along her bicep, coaxing her arm to reach behind his neck.

"Why did you come here?" he asked, leaning forward to the point where she would have fallen if she didn't hold her rigid pose, and straightened her leg as his hand moved from her knee to help balance her calf.

Sarah's mouth opened to answer, but the words took their time. This move was putting quite the strain on her body, and it took most of her remaining focus to hold it. She had to maintain an axis from her head to her toe, and doing so meant having to stretch her neck away from him. She rolled her head back and opened her eyes, surveying the room from an upside-down perspective.

"I told you...I was nervous about tomorrow...I just wanted to see you before then." She was too focused on the inverted fire to notice his smile just then. What she did notice was the feel of his hair trailing across her chest and the heat from his mouth as he kissed her exposed neck. She felt the force of his breath as it chilled the skin coated with saliva, and the quiver of goosebumps that flared when his tongue and teeth were gently nipping once more. She felt her hands moving from his neck to his shoulders, but she told herself it was strictly for balance. The hand around her leg tightened and his mouth on her carotid sucked languidly as it pulsed wildly in her neck.

After a moment he pulled away and brought his face close to hers.

"You wanted to see me...I don't think you can understand how happy that makes me," he said and gently brought her to a standing position. The blood which had been pooling at the back of her skull began to circulate once again, the momentary vertigo causing her to cling to his shirt while she found her equilibrium.

They moved slowly and silently after that, Jareth holding her close and Sarah letting it happen. He would gently stroke her hair or press on the small of her back and she would close her eyes and pretend being a dirty, dirty hypocrite didn't matter to her. His hold was warm and safe, that was something she never thought possible, and she wanted to savor it. After all...this was all she ever wanted from him, to just be nice and sane and compassionate...was she really not going to let herself have this because of something as fickle as pride? She had come here with a mission. But it now seemed she had no idea what that mission really was.

"You should stay."

She opened her eyes and looked up, her gaze glazed as if he'd woken her from a deep sleep.

"What?" she asked.

"Stay with me tonight," he repeated, and Sarah's eyes couldn't help but flicker towards the bed. "You don't have to leave...you know that, don't you?" he asked, his voice so gentle and tender it was almost someone else's voice entirely. She became more aware then, her eyes blinking out of their daze.

"B...but...you still have work to do...and I have to get up early..." Her excuses were poor, she knew this, and yet the desperation in her voice was overly authentic.

"I don't care. Stay with me. Please." He rose a hand to hold her jaw and angled her towards him. Her brow was knitted with worry and she bit her lip nervously, but Jareth registered none of this.

"But...we're not fighting," she said, lowering her gaze to the floor. She didn't know why, but just like before, all of the sudden, she wanted to escape. It was good when they talked, when they moved in stepping stones. It was good when she liked him. It was even good when she liked him a lot. But this feeling...this feeling now was a danger to her, it was something she needed to conceal and keep locked up far away from her. It was a feeling that she wasn't strong enough to handle and would overtake her in an instant if given the chance. And these moments...moments when he looked at her and spoke to her so earnestly, moments when she felt her heart bloom and bleed, those were its chance. And she realized how much of a fool she was to have even entertained the idea of keeping things casual, with Jareth of all people, because nothing regarding him was ever just casual. She knew that if she stayed with him tonight, if she stayed with him one moment longer, what was to ensue wouldn't be sex, it would be fucking, they would be making love, well, she would be making love. And that was the last thing she needed, regardless of what she wanted.

And maybe it was all pointless, maybe she was the problem. But just like Jareth had said, maybe she wanted to punish him too. She still didn't know what it was he really wanted from her. She didn't know what any of this meant, or what consequences it would bring. He gave her no answers, and so maybe all she wanted was for him to feel equally unrequited.

Sarah's eyes were lost in the shadows when Jareth's hand ran down the side of her face, pushing her hair behind her ear as he gauged her.

"We don't have to fight either," he said, softly. "Isn't it better when we don't?"

Sarah scowled then and shook her head away from his touch.

"I...I don't know," she stammered, starting to pull herself away from his hold. Jareth became more attentive then, her behavior seemed familiar.

"If you can't decide, I'm sure there are a million things we could argue about," he suggested, playfully, yet masking his true concern. He let go of her so she wouldn't have to struggle and gave her room to breathe. She was recoiling from him fast and, just like the day previous, he had no idea why.

"I...I'm sorry, but I need to go," she said and turned as if to leave then and there. Amative mood fading fast, Jareth reached out and caught her wrist.

"Why?" he asked, demanding his due before she turned her back on him once again. She stopped and turned, but refused to raise her head.

"I don't know...I just...think it's best if I leave. It's getting late. We both have obligations tomorrow. So please...let me go." It was quiet, Jareth having no response. He felt Sarah's hand fist through the tension in her wrist and he stood a little firmer. "I came here on my own, remember? That means you can't keep me. I'm free to leave whenever I so choose," she said, forcing conviction. Jareth took a step forward.

"And I'm asking you not to. I am _asking_ you for a reason," he said, his tone becoming more commanding. Sarah took a deep breath and rose her head to look at him.

"Asking means I have the right not to answer. But if you must know, the reason I want to leave is because I don't want to be here. Should it be any more complicated than that?" she asked, cattily. "Now, if you would, please let me go." She stood firm, but it was the glimmer in her eyes that gave her away, and it was clear to Jareth that she was on the verge of some breakdown. He eyed her necklace then, but knew that it wasn't the cause.

He stepped forward and tightened his grip on her wrist, his free hand capturing her jaw and forcing those angry eyes of hers to beam right at him. She struggled weakly to escape his grasp, but the purse of her lips and the tension in her brow alluded that she was more worried with things other than him. He narrowed his eyes on her and pressed down on her chin with his thumb and kissed her.

  



	93. The Fixx, part 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While unbeknown to her, Sarah has succeeded in obtaining the one thing the Goblin King has desired for hundreds of years -power over the Labyrinth. After being hidden for years from his diabolical wrath, Sarah finds herself alone and vulnerable as Jareth's dark desires are finally aloud to rear their ugly heads. As always, the only question is, are things really as they seem?

He held her there for seconds which passed like minutes, keeping his hold on her firm although he knew no hold was needed at all. Her body nearly sagged in relief at the contact of their mouths and he could feel her trying to control the sporadic breaths which threatened her undoing. He pulled her in closer and threw away her wrist to wrap his hands around the back of her jaw, his fingers snaking into her hair, his thumbs pressing firmly against her cheeks. He kissed her until she crumbled, and the moment she began to kiss him back, he pulled away and glared down at her fiercely.

"The next time you lie to me you will find that it is not my behavior which you will regret." he said, his hands in her hair tightening to discomfort. Sarah bit her lip and stood her ground.

"I'm not lying," she said, her gaze staring up at him as if pleading for something. Jareth shook his head then, her strange ambivalence agitating him. He never understood it, she would cry and scream that he was a monster and that she wanted him to be good and yet when he was she only ran away from it. He didn't understand what she wanted from him. He didn't understand what she wanted him to be.

"Oh really?" he said, challengingly, and held her by the nape as he kissed her again, more forcibly than before. She began to whimper and push against him with her fists, yet, like so many other times, was actually kissing him more hungrily than he was her. An arm wrapped around her shoulders and crushed her to him, and he bent forward the deeper he kissed her. When he pulled away the air between them was torrid. "You're lying to me, Sarah-mine. You're lying, because I think you would very much like to stay," he spoke with heavy breaths, their stares boring into each other and yet not sure what they were really seeing. Sarah's hands, which were pressed up against Jareth's chest, tried pushing against him and she winced as she glared away.

"Stop it. You don't know what you're talking about," she protested, but even she knew how transparent those words sounded. Jareth smiled devilishly.

"What was it you just said, or rather implied? You can't stay here unless we're fighting? Is that the logic you want me to use?" he asked, his smile growing as she struggled harder.

"You were the one who said to use sex to solve our problems...so why would I do it any other time?" she said, not really thinking of what she was saying.

"Simple-" He caught her in a bear hug then, ceasing all her incessant squirming. "Because you want to. But you know something Sarah? All I asked was for you to stay. I asked for your company and nothing more. If you assumed I meant anything else it is because it was in fact you who wanted it," he said and reached down to scoop her up in his arms and carried her towards the bed. "But hey, since we're already arguing, might as well make amends right?" he said and tossed her on the bed. She sat up but he was already in her face, pinning her hands under his as he leaned forward. She braced herself, but was left hanging when all he did was stare at her. He waited until he had her attention before speaking. "I don't understand you," he said. Sarah stared at him, taken aback. "You fight, and you scream, and you tell me how awful I am. You tell me to be decent and compassionate and kind and all sorts of things, and yet you seem to find that even more repulsive." There was a twitch in Sarah's brow then, and an almost overwhelming impulse to say that he was mistaken, that she wasn't repulsed, that the reason she turned away was because it was the very opposite. Those words, of course, never came. "What do you want, Sarah. Why did you come here tonight?" Sarah blanched yet again. She really had no idea how to respond. Her hands were stuck under his, her legs forced open as he leaned towards her, and it seemed the more she resisted the more trapped she became.

"I told you, I was worried about tomorrow. I wanted to talk about it before hand," she said. His fingers constricted around her wrists.

"Are you sure you want to lie to me again?" he asked. He was facing the light of the window now, the blue and silver light illuminating that of his eyes to a fierce intensity. She tried, but couldn't look away.

"I said I wanted to see you. Why do you think I'm lying?" she exclaimed, growing exasperated with his probing. Jareth leaned in even farther until she was forced to lay flat on her back.

"Because the reason you came is the reason why you're trying to leave and I know the latter has nothing to do with seeing me," he said, his own voice growing in aggravation. If it wasn't for the soft light masking the fact, he would have seen her pale just then. Was she really so transparent? Did he really know her so well, when she couldn't gauge him in the slightest? Marie was right in placing doubt in her, for she knew now she didn't stand a chance in Hell when a simple look could cut her so decisively. She stared up at him, her hands fisting and wringing in his grasp, and bit the inside of her cheek as she felt her eyes starting to smart.

Jareth watched her carefully as her eyes grew rounder and her scowl drew tighter. They'd moved farther up the bed, his legs straddling her waist as he held her down, and he realized this was what she had wanted all along. _You want me to tie you down, don't you?_ He remembered then, the look in her eye. It was the same as it was now. Was she really so clever?_ Bondage is not a scapegoat, it's an accessory.__What if I can't enjoy it unless I'm tied down?! _He hadn't given much serious thought to that moment, but seeing her struggle now...It was uncanny. Was she really that ashamed of being with him? Was she that ashamed to even admit it that she had to manipulate them into this very situation just to enjoy it? Was he really so horrible? Would she give him not even one chance at redemption?

Deeply sobered by this revelation, he lowered his head and relaxed his grasp.

"...Sarah-"

"I'm afraid, okay?!"

He looked up to find her gaze searing through him, her chest heaving with heavy breaths.

"What?"

"I came to you because I was afraid and I want to leave because I'm afraid." She tore her hands out from under his and tried to rub the tension from her face, the heat in her eyes mimicking tears. "I don't know what this is, Jareth. I don't know how to do this. Am I supposed to forgive you just because we're having sex? Am I supposed to get over everything and move on like it was nothing? Do you think we're just peachy keen? Am I supposed to hunker down and play house because of a few good orgasms? Or is it the opposite? Am I supposed to keep on resenting you and say it was all a mistake? You're right, I was lying. I do want to be here. What I don't want is to want to be here."

Jareth leaned up a little as she spoke. Her face was hot and flushed and she darted her eyes this way and that to stop the frustration from unraveling her. There was a quiver to her voice and she continuously ran her hands down her face in the failing effort to just sooth it all away.

"And then there's this stupid ball, a giant party to commemorate the fact that I was taken here against my will and that everyone is just fine with that. I have to convince these people that I support you, that I'm yours, when I don't want to be. But here I am, here, with you, doing everything I keep saying I don't want to do, feeling things I don't want to feel; but feeling them makes me feel good and there is the inherent flaw in my system. I'm all backwards in this backwards place with these backwards rules. So you really wanna know why I can't stand to be around you for more than an hour? Why I want nothing more than to run far, far away? It's because there are times when you make me happy Jareth and I'm afraid that if I lose sight of all the reasons why you make me miserable I'll lose myself only to find out that it was never real to begin with. And I'd rather be forever stuck in a hopeless and emotionless void than be crushed by the likes of you." She had much more to say, so much more to say; but the hand at her forehead brushing the hair from her face and the finger forcefully lifting her chin were enough to cause a break in her tirade.

Her eyes widened when he kissed her and then closed when he made it count. His thumb gently tugged at her lip, opening her mouth so his tongue could find hers. Her words of outburst were immediately quelled and the anger that was once so prevalent was nowhere to be found. An arm wrapped behind her shoulders and brought her closer to him and the hand holding the side of her face completely engulfed her as his fingers spread into her hair. He pulled her further onto the bed and laid flush against her. Her back arched up against his stomach and their silhouettes molded perfectly under the moonlight.

Her hands fisted in the collar of his shirt and tugged him as close as possible. She was so worked up, she just didn't care anymore. She didn't care about her plan or about Marie or Jareth or anything. The only thing she could think of, the only thing she even remotely cared about, was how badly she yearned for his touch and to touch him in return. Each graze, each subtle caress, each glide of his tongue and sharp whisper of breath, unraveled the pressure which had long been suffocating her wayward thoughts. Fuck over-thinking. Fuck thinking at all. Fuck the good and the bad and the pros and cons. She didn't care what happened next, she didn't care if she ended up hating herself, she didn't care if she ended up regretting it for the rest of her life. All she wanted was for this feeling of abandon to welcome her. Always.

Her hands moved from his collar to wind deep in his unruly hair, just as his withdrew from hers and left a trail of smoldering kisses moving down her throat. She arched herself towards his mouth and panted heavily from the heat of the moment. His hands found her exposed thighs and greedily pushed up the hem of her skirt.

He tore himself loose from her hands and moved down to her abdomen, kissing and tasting his way back up from her navel as he pushed and pulled her nightgown up and over her head.

She moaned as he kissed and sucked at the flesh of her breasts, his large hands crudely kneading and gripping. Her voice grew higher and she clawed a fist into his hair as he bit and twirled his tongue around her reddening nipple.

Her hands reached for the back of his shirt and yanked, and he leaned back to let her pull it off of him. He undid the fly of his pants and, after taking hold of her hips, flipped her into her stomach. She tried to rise to her knees, but his weight was already pressing her back down to the mattress.

With a hand on her shoulder holding her down, he kissed his way down her spine, though by the time he reached her lumbar region, his hands released her to join his mouth at her hips, and began brazenly feeling the contours of her ass as his kisses trailed to the tops of her thighs.

She tried to drag herself out from under him, but sensing this, Jareth flipped her onto her back once more and began sucking on the inside of her thigh. She started wriggling reflexively and tried to pull away from such an intense feeling, but a hand on her belly was all it took to hold her in place. His mouth neared her groin as he pulled the dainty lace of her underwear down and off of her. She started to backpedal further up the bed, but he caught her ankle and yanked her right to the edge. Kneeling on the floor, he took his time as he kissed his way to her sex and teasingly dipped his tongue between her folds.

Sarah had to look away in embarrassment and was direly wishing for her blindfold. She closed her eyes and focused on his touch, the way his tongue warmed her nethers and the way his fingers dug gently into her skin. He twirled his tongue around her clit and she jolted from such a strong sensation. His hand over her stomach cemented then, and he kept her nearly immobile as he pushed her farther.

She began to pant, he was touching her too directly, it was too strong and it made her uncomfortable; however, when he would pull away and plunge his tongue deep inside her, it made her buck and moan for him to do it all over again. She didn't realize when one of his hands released her and moved lower, but the slow gradual moan that vibrated all the way from her core said just how much she was aware of what those fingers did.

He pulled away from her and leaned up so he could watch all her beautiful reactions as his hand made short work of her. He started slow, just an index finger, his thumb lightly massaging her clit. She squirmed a bit, her body moving with each of his steady undulations, but that wasn't enough for him. He soon added a second finger, and this time her back arched and she gripped the sheets. But her eyes were still closed, still refusing to see him as he had his way with her. That just wouldn't do. The next addition was the ring finger, and oh, how splendid an effect that one had. He crawled up on the bed, straddling her as he fingered her deep and leaned forward until his hair grazed her chest.

"Are you enjoying yourself?" he asked. Sarah peeped one of her eyes open, but refused to look at him.

"Wh-what?" she replied, breathily. Jareth's smile grew.

"Tell me what you want me to do," he said. Now that got Sarah's attention. She opened her eyes and looked straight at him.

"What."

Jareth leaned down so their lips were just barely touching, and she blushed when she saw they were still glistening with her own fluids.

"You said you don't know what this is...that you don't know how to do this...do you think I am any more qualified? I don't know what it is you want from me. So tell me...tell me what you want and I will give it to you."

For a moment, Sarah was unsure of what it was they were really talking about, but the way he hooked his fingers just then let her know he was being highly suggestive. She relaxed a little into the sheets, but any commands came up garbled.

"I...Uhmm...I...I don't know -I"

He smiled and took one of her hands.

"Well then, why don't you show me instead," he said and lowered her hand down her body until she could feel his as it moved in and out of her. Sarah's immediate reaction was to pull away but he held her there, and after a moment, splayed her fingers and coaxed one to move inside her and join his own.

If it wasn't for his gaze locking onto hers, she wouldn't have been able to handle it. She'd never...done this sort of thing to herself. She'd been fingered before...she'd certainly masturbated before...but she'd never penetrated herself, and feeling her insides like this...felt more medical than carnal.

Jareth took her hand and turned it, then pressed her palm down against her sex and coaxed her into applying her own pressure. His eyes narrowed on hers and it seemed, at some point unbeknownst to her, she had become greatly aroused. Her mouth opened and her body curved as she felt the way his fingers worked inside her. As he held her stare, she started secretly massaging herself with her palm until she found a rhythm. Her back began to bow and Jareth's grin began to curl, but she wasn't ready to give him that yet.

Withdrawing her hand, she reached up and hooked her fingers into Jareth's mouth, much like the way he had done to her, and pulled him down. There was no hesitation on his end as his tongue hungrily sucked at her slick fingers and was soon joined by her own as she kissed him then pulled her fingers away to suckle them all on her own. Jareth rose a brow at her, wondering when she had become so wanton. He was the one commanding her body, but from the sensual look in her eye and the way she held the back of her head as she angled this way and that, it seemed she knew exactly what she was doing to him.

She leaned up, assertive enough to force him to ease back and took hold of his wrist.

"Enough of that," she said and pulled him out of her. Again, he rose a challenging brow but let her carry on. She moved to sit on her knees so she was on level with him and, wrapping her arms tightly around him, kissed him boldly, messily. He brought his hands to her biceps, trying to ease her back, but she would have none of it and instead tightened her grip and pulled so that he fell onto the bed beside her.

She straddled him and kissed her way down his neck, her hands feeling him up the way he had her as she moved lower and lower. He leaned his head up to watch her, almost perplexed by her behavior. She kissed from one pec to the other and nipped on his own nipple. He had to close his eyes then, but couldn't stop his hand from winding into her hair, urging her on. She looked up with a siren's stare.

"Why don't you tell me what you like..." she suggested, her voice lewd and playful as her hands teasingly danced down to his waistline.

Jareth...didn't know how to react. Her behavior was so enticing it was almost suspicious. He felt himself gulp as he watched her lips move across his skin and stifled many a shiver when her hands hit his more sensitive spots. He never expected her to take command like this, especially not now.

She smiled at his silence and moved further down.

"Hm...No response? Guess I'll have to improvise then, won't I?" she said, her smile falling behind his belt buckle as she lowered from the bed to the floor. As if on instinct, Jareth moved to sit up, but when he did was faced with the image of Sarah kneeling before him, her hands on either of his thighs and her long black hair creating a cascade to hide her more private parts, and was actually frozen by how aroused he became in that very moment.

"What are you doing?" he asked, accusingly. Sarah smiled then, at the uncertainty in his voice. He didn't realize the amount of thought she had given his words, how much consideration she had put into them. But then she remembered how good it felt to claw her anger down his back, how good it felt to do the things she wanted to him. As she thought more and more about the night to come, she began to dread how powerless she really was. He had given her this idea. She needed a moment, just one moment, no matter how insignificant, to feel like she wasn't being pressed under someone else's thumb. So if Jareth really cared...if he really wanted to help her get through this...He would be the one who smothered under her thumb.

"You asked me what I wanted. You asked me to show you. What I want Jareth, is to be the one...in control." Her hands moved higher up his thighs, her head bowing submissively, though her eyes striking a powerful bargain. Jareth scowled, as he was sure her request encompassed more than what let on, but he was having a hard time looking past that hungry stare, those succulent lips and the way her tongue ran along the lower leaving a glistening, welcoming shine in its wake. He wanted to kiss those lips. He wanted those lips to kiss him. Everywhere.

Still Jareth did not respond, though from the downward cast of his eyes she figured it was simply because he was too distracted by her display. She smiled then, he was already doing everything she wanted. She began to stand, mimicking much of his previous posture in engulfing him with her presence. He stared down at her expectantly, not having the faintest clue what he should do next. He was always the one to engage her. Always the one to move and show her. He never, never expected, never even accounted for...

She lowered her eyelids so they were just barely open, and hovered her lips but a centimeter from his. Her hands roamed up his torso, but before he could claim that enticing little mouth of hers, she pushed him flat on his back. She moved low again and began to work on unfastening his pants.

"Do you even know what you're doing?" Jareth asked, the unease of handing over the reins clearly evident in his voice. Sarah leaned forward and narrowed her eyes on him.

"Oh, don't you remember? I've fondled and poked and prodded. All those dirty little things I've done with human boys? All those things you don't care about? I think that will be more than enough to handle you, My King."

Oh. Oh God. Was he really so pathetic? Was he really about to let himself come undone by but a few smutty words? No, it wasn't just that, it was the command in her stare, it was the joy in her smile as he openly struggled for decisiveness. As it always seemed, he was no match for her. And as much as her sexuality enthralled him, it absolutely terrified him because he knew he would succumb to her every whim. It had happened before, and look how that night had ended. Just thinking of it unraveled his nerves, for he feared tonight could be just the same. Perhaps then, that was why he was so forceful with her, to compensate for his own weakness. And as he watched her hands slowly work his body and her tongue coyly dip under the hem of his pants -gods it was a fantasy he had never even bothered having. He leaned back and stared at the ceiling, debating whether or not he could risk letting _that night_ happen all over again.

"You seem nervous Jareth. I say, is everything alright?" Sarah asked, cheekily, again mimicking himself. One of her hands rubbed over his erection then and he flinched from the contact. Her hand, conforming to the bulge of his pants, began to move discreetly. "You don't feel nervous..." she added on, waiting to see how far he would let her go. She had to admit, she was getting into it by this point. Seeing him like this was much more satisfying than anticipated. So much so that she was actually getting off on it, and she wondered if this was perhaps the appeal he found in treating her in the exact same way. Who knew role-play could be such a gratifying distraction.

She crawled up on the bed and straddled him as her hand reached down and took hold of him bare. He grew harder in her hand, and she pumped him gently and rhythmically as she left kisses down his torso. She could feel his heartbeat escalating the nearer she drew and she smiled at the way he tensed. She kissed a circle around his navel and then a line straight down.

That was when she felt a hand in her hair yanking her straight up.

"Promise me," Jareth demanded, leaving Sarah to blink at whatever the hell he was talking about.

"What?" she asked, growing genuinely concerned when he closed his eyes and shook his head, trying to compose himself. His face was flushed and it struck her then, because she had never seen him so. Was he really that worked up?

"Promise me...that this isn't like before," he said, his stare cutting straight through her. She drew her brow then, until she realized exactly why he was so flustered. It wasn't just arousal...or maybe it was. He was afraid...afraid that she would repeat what happened that night? Wh- why...? Or...no it was more than that. He was afraid of losing control. _I've never lost control like that. I've never wanted something so much that I felt that desire have me instead._ She became greatly disheartened then, realizing how her actions must have been received. All she wanted to do was forget her worries...maybe even boost her ego by pretending she had something she didn't...but the only thing she'd succeeded in was rehashing old demons...

"N-no...I just thought that maybe...this might...make me feel better...by pretending I actually...have some power over you." she said, like she were ashamed of it, her grumble at the end near incomprehensible. Her eyes fell away, but when they rose back to his, saw him examining her face quite intently.

She almost gasped when he grabbed her shoulders and rolled her flat on the bed. His body pressed against her, the smooth velvety skin of his erection pressing hard against her pubic bone. She tried not to blush.

"You have no idea how badly I want to fuck you," he said, his hands gripping her arms tightly. Sarah's pulse quickened.

"...So why don't you?" she asked, tentatively. Jareth's grip began to fidget, and it seemed he was having a real conflict with something.

"You haven't...you haven't said..." The more he tried to say it the harder it became. Sarah observed him and realized what he was getting at and why he couldn't say it. He was still planning on letting her have her way, is that it? He was waiting for her to make the move? And yet he had her pinned flat on her back. Why was he so willing, no, _eager_ to do this?

She reached down and gripped him firmly, placing him at her opening and spread her legs wide.

"Are you really going to wait for me to say it?" she asked, sensuously, pumping him into her just slightly. His arms quivered as he held himself above her, but he made no move otherwise. She angled her hips upward and pushed on him a little more. She felt him split her open as he entered her, but she gave him no more than an agonizing tease. "Do you think you're really capable of that, Jareth?"

"Not if you keep taunting me," he said, through gritted teeth. He was trying so hard not to devour her it was painful. And here she was, goading him. She leaned up and ran her tongue along his ear.

"What do you want, Jareth?" she asked. He closed his eyes and clenched his fists into the sheets. She continued to lick and suck at his ear. "I think...you were looking forward to me going down on you, maybe too much...maybe I won't do it after all," she whispered, speaking in a manner that was very unlike and yet very befitting her.

"Now you're just being cruel," he said, trying to ignore the feeling of her hands on him, pushing and pulling, of the wetness that coated him each time she rose her hips.

Her breath enflamed him, each flick of her tongue against his skin pushing him closer and closer to the edge. Never had a woman affected him this way; it was simply astounding. And as torturous as it was, he loved every minute of it and if he could he would beg for more and more.

"It's a shame really...I was kind of looking forward to it too..." she turned and kissed the corner of his mouth, her tongue reaching out and running along his lower lip, until he too turned and succumbed to her kiss. He closed his eyes and lowered himself upon her, though she made sure to stop him from entering. Her tongue traveled around his in a very precise way and he realized she was mimicking something else. "It's a good thing you're so good at fabricating dreams, you're probably going t-"

"Oh, fuck this."

Sarah's "seduction" may have gotten a bit ahead of itself as Jareth burned through the last bits of his restraint. He grabbed her hands and slammed them down as he thrust deep inside her. Sarah moaned and inched higher up the bed, but he followed with even deeper plunges. He kept his head buried in her neck, for he knew he was already gone. He groaned loudly and shamelessly as he moved, squeezing her wrists tight just from his own bodily tension. Sarah tried to keep her breathing in check and closed her eyes as she smiled. Liana was right, she could use her body as a weapon. She did have power over him, and that sense of satisfaction she felt when he lost control of his own urges, when his biggest "fear" was realized because of her...well, that was just as good as any orgasm.

She arched her back and cried out when he suddenly bit down on her shoulder, and she realized it was to smother his own moans as he came hard inside her. Her smile grew wider then; he was always in such control of himself...and yet after a few sexy smiles and fluttery lashes she could bring him to this? Perhaps her reconnaissance mission hadn't been a waste after all, for she discovered a far grander path to take.

Panting heavily, Jareth withdrew from her, but squeezed her wrists even tighter. Sweat had stuck tendrils of hair to his face and he couldn't believe how worked up he had gotten. He looked down to find her watching him arrogantly.

"Can I go to my own room now?" she asked, oh so sweetly. Jareth smiled then, preserving the image of her smiling as he held her arms pinned high above her head into his memory for all of time. He leaned down, his gaze sharpening, until the challenge in his stare matched hers.

"How presumptuous. You really think I'd let you leave here without exacting payback?" he said, pompously, to which Sarah's eyes narrowed. "You think you have the edge by catching me off guard? I'll show you things you've never even dreamed of," he said, daring her to call his bluff before whisking her away under the gaze of shadows and serious moonlight.

  



	94. Redboned, part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While unbeknown to her, Sarah has succeeded in obtaining the one thing the Goblin King has desired for hundreds of years -power over the Labyrinth. After being hidden for years from his diabolical wrath, Sarah finds herself alone and vulnerable as Jareth's dark desires are finally aloud to rear their ugly heads. As always, the only question is, are things really as they seem?

Chapter 17, Redboned

* * *

There was a sound. It was soft. It was subtle. Fabric shifting under hand, a gentle exhale. Sarah sighed as she rolled over and wondered if it was the sound that had woken her or if she had only heard it because she was already awake.

She kept her eyes closed and relaxed into the sheets. It felt warm there. Warmer than before. It would have been easy to fall back asleep.

And yet this comfort was misplaced. This tranquility brimming with queer peculiarity. This warmth was so welcoming and yet if felt weighted. This quandary was off balance- and that was when she realized that the sun was shining on the right side of her face.

She opened her eyes and met the sun straight ahead and the memories came flooding back, though their passive impact she was more than grateful for. She looked down, away from the window, her groggy eyes absently caught on her hand as she sifted the black silken sheets between her fingers.

_That's right...I ended up staying after all, didn't I?_

She glanced back up to the window, recalling how her own was located on the left side of the room. She was used to the sunrise waking her on the left; perhaps that was why she felt so odd this morning. It was worse than simply waking up on the wrong side of the bed. The very dawn was backwards this day.

_Oh, and speaking of the wrong side of the bed..._

Sarah glanced down just as a hand was tightening around her abdomen, her absent gaze following it all the way back to its owner. And suddenly...she was much more awake.

_Oh...OH._

Her eyes widened and gained some clarity as she realized the full gravity of her situation. Images, no _sequences_, from the night before began to taunt her unguarded psyche in a myriad of juxtapositions that had her cheeks blushing and her fists clenching. _That's right, I ended up staying. We ended up.._. Her eyes warily traveled back to Jareth, though what she saw left all her nervous anticipation unwarranted. He was still asleep after all, nestled cozily under the covers just as she once was. When his arm had reached out, she had expected to be pulled back down, yet she now realized it was just a reflex from her pulling away in the first place.

She turned and sat upright, still on guard as she watched him. He was on his side, facing her. The blanket decently (thankfully) pulled up to his ribs as his hair messily cascaded over his exposed shoulder.

She thought about running away then and there; but then again, she wasn't in any real danger was she?

She stared at him for a long while, half expecting him to lunge forward at any moment should she try to wriggle away. Nothing happened of course, nothing at all, and that was because no wriggling happened. Instead, she leaned forward a bit, her skepticism unwavering as she tried to recall a past moment where he had been left so vulnerable. She'd seen him sleeping only once, but that was a different kind of vulnerable altogether. After a while her eyes softened and she gave in to brush some of the hair from his face. He looked so sweet right now, so...harmless. She recalled more moments from last night, but they left her unaffected. After all, though she had only realized it now, it wasn't shame or embarrassment or worry they brought her, it was (surprisingly)...relief.

Her eyes zeroed in on his lips and it was as if she could still feel them pressing against hers, against her arms, her neck, her stomach; and as her eyes then traveled across his own torso did she remark on how his skin felt pressed against her own lips, and the urge to so again was soon to follow.

She felt surprisingly relaxed after the _endeavor_ they had engaged in last night, and she thought that perhaps she was cut out for this after all. That sense of confidence lasted for about a split second however when Jareth's arm tightened again, subconsciously pulling her in closer. She questioned his lucidity one final time as his face nuzzled against her bare stomach, but the lack of tension in his body and his ever shallow breathing spoke to his defense.

She could feel her heartbeat start to quicken and travel all the way to her stomach, right to the spot Jareth rested against. She began to examine him again, the way his strong forearm seemed to be holding onto her both limply and firmly at the same time, the definition in his shoulder muscles as the hair fell away from his neck, the slight expand of his ribcage with each breath. Unwittingly, she felt her own hand move lightly through his hair, and just then did he turn ever so slightly, his lips pressing just above her navel. Sarah froze then, not because she was suspicious, not because she was repulsed. It was that feeling again. The one from before. The one that alerted her when the danger was imminent. She'd managed to find a way around it last night, but Jareth had seen through her plainly. She was on her own now, and if she knew anything it was to listen to this warning. His hand had tightened on her hip and through the tangle of his bangs she saw him smile ever-so-slightly. And it was so heartwarming because it _was_ subconscious. This feeling burgeoning deep in her chest, she knew it exactly and she knew she should have just left the moment she'd woken. _Touch nothing but the lamp_.

She pulled away from his grasp carefully, eyeing him like the sleeping lion that he was as she then tip toed back away from the bed. She looked around frantically until she spotted her nightgown and quickly pulled it over her head. She was as quiet as could be, the urge to vacate never stronger; and yet she was still aware of the frown that, for just a second, marred her expression when she looked over to him one last time. He had rolled over, his outstretched arm reaching for her and thus recoiling into a fist when its efforts were found unrequited. His hand gripped the sheet tightly and the tension in his body visibly altered, yet he did not wake. She then furrowed her brow with an odd sense of foreboding as she turned and scurried back to her room.

When she entered her room, Sarah found it surprisingly empty. No Mariella in sight. As she entered further, her eyes found the clock and saw it was only five in the morning, even she got to sleep in later than that. As she approached her bed, the mere sight of it was enough to drain whatever adrenaline had been fueling her walk of shame and without any preamble whatsoever, fell face first into the cool and familiar sheets. She hugged her pillow as her eyes fluttered shut, grinning contentedly at the window on the left and mumbling so only she could hear, "No cuddling...no cuddling, ever."

* * *

The next thing Sarah knew, she was being roused by the sound of something hitting the floor. She scrunched her brow and sneered into her pillow then slowly pulled away from it. Next came a muffled _gosh darn it, stupid me!_ which had Sarah's brow twisting further. She turned her head straight to Marie, who was trying her best not to make a sound as she picked up whatever it was she had dropped on the floor.

"M-Marie?" Sarah grumbled, keeping her eyes squinted against the now brighter light of day. Mariella froze and turned back to face her with a near dire expression.

"Oh, did I wake you? Please forgive me, I am so sorry. My carelessness has disturbed you, I shall leave at once."

Sarah took a deep breath and began to lean up, but it was hard to gain her own composure when faced with the frazzled fervor of Mariella.

"Wait-wait, it's fine, it's probably time I get up anyway, right?"

She tried to give her a reassuring smile, but quite frankly she would much rather just go back to sleep. Mariella straightened up a bit and moved to sit in a chair that, apparently, was now beside her bed. Sarah's weary eyes inspected it as best they could and then the strange object that Mariella now held.

"Wait- were you knitting?" Sarah asked, and shook her head in confusion. Mariella sucked in her lips and rolled her eyes in a circle about the room before responding.

"Um, yes?"

"Have you just been sitting by my bedside knitting while I slept?"

"Well, putting it like that sounds just a tad overbearing, doesn't it? I was merely occupying myself while I waited for you to wake."

Sarah clutched the side of her head and fell back down to the mattress, she just couldn't handle Marie's gleefulness this soon after waking up. She did originally wake up on the wrong side of the bed after all.

"But knitting? Seriously? And why did you have to sit right next to me? What are you, a worried grandmother?" The sarcasm in Sarah's voice was mildly hollow. Mariella cocked her head slightly, placing her yarn and needles in her lap.

"Why no, neither am I worried nor a grandmother. What an odd presumption."

Sarah peeped open a glaring eye from the midst of her hair and just stared.

"How long have you been here?" she asked. Mariella shrugged and resumed her needlework.

"A few hours, I'd say."

Sarah's eyes widened again.

"What? A few hours? What time is it?" she asked, leaning up on her hands once again and searching eagerly for the clock.

"About noon."

Deadpanned, Sarah's muddled head turned back to Marie with a fierceness she wasn't properly able to wield so soon after waking.

"WHAT? Why didn't you wake me up? You know what today is, don't you?! Aren't there preparations-precautions-things to get ready for?! Mariella? What the Hell!?" With a spontaneous gust, Sarah threw the blanket from her and leapt from the bed, her panic charging her towards a shower. Mariella rose an interjecting finger, but was hesitant to interfere.

"I was told not to," she said, slowly recoiling said finger when Sarah turned around to face her.

"What? By who?" she asked. Mariella shrugged again and looked into her lap.

"Well, who else? His Majesty of course."

Sarah paled then. It was brief, and she didn't quite know why, but something was just not right.

"What?"

"...Well, I came to wake you as usual and..."

"And what?" Sarah asked, her tone resulting in a premature demand.

"I happened to run into His Majesty in the hall. He asked where I was going and said I was not to wake you and that you should be allowed to sleep in as long as you want," she explained. Sarah felt her shoulders sag. Ok, that was..a relief? Wait, why was she preparing for disaster? Pondering such things only made her frustrated, and so she shook her head as she sat back down on the bed.

"Wait, why would he say that? Shouldn't I be going through Roldan's final preparations or whatever? When does the ball even start?" she asked. Mariella continued to shrug, apparently her attention was still lost in the intricacies of her sock (or scarf or whatever it was).

"Perhaps His Majesty simply wishes for you to be well rested and stress free? I think that is more important right now than whatever Master Roldan has planned. It really is considerate of him when you think about it, urging you to take your time and not have to worry over unnecessary things."

"Yeah...I guess..."

Sarah found herself scratching the back of her head as she pondered Jareth's possible ulterior motives, but what she was more concerned with was the fact that he obviously knew she had skipped out on him this morning and hadn't seemed to care in the slightest. It was suspicious indeed.

"And besides, it's not like it was absolutely necessary for you to be about so early, there is still plenty of time before the festivities. I've already taken the liberty of packing your attire and whatever else you may need; however the lodge itself is already well accommodated. We can head over whenever you feel ready. I'm sure Master Roldan has had the carriage on standby." Sarah nodded mindlessly as Mariella spoke, her thoughts far far away from here.

"Um, okay then. I guess I'll go take a shower?"

"I'll be waiting with breakfast when you return," Mariella said, her smile as wholesome as ever. She watched as Sarah exited the room, and only after she was gone did she finally give in to giddily survey the scene left behind.

* * *

She knew something was odd the moment she'd spotted Jareth, conveniently leaving Sarah's room, earlier that morning. It was very rare that he was the first to be spotted and that brief moment of exposure had shown her many things.

Firstly, he shut the door quietly, letting his fingertips linger on the doorknob as he resigned to simply stare at it. Such a pensive look was foreign to her impression of the fearsome Goblin King, but this expression was fleeting. He must have heard her take a step, for after a twitch of his brow he glanced up and proceeded to look straight through her.

She bowed her head of course and waited for him to pass, though even from her obscured vantage point she noticed an alteration in his usual posture. He was more lax, or perhaps he simply didn't care to put on his usual front for her sake. He surprised her yet again by stopping beside her. When she peered up, his gaze was cast straight ahead, and from that distance the true effects of his contemplation showed through. She wondered, then, if anything had happened between them the night before.

"I'd like it if you were careful not to wake her this morning," he said; his sudden speech latching onto her attention, "I'm afraid she may have exerted herself with worry by trying to study last night. I think it would be better for her to get the proper rest she requires before tonight."

"Oh-of course! Your Majesty..." She looked to the ground then, fighting the anxious feeling churning about inside her. On one hand, she thought it deeply considerate of him to give her such an accommodation. But on the other, there was no real way nor reason she could trust what he was saying. And so, even though she later told Sarah otherwise, she was in fact worried and thus very much eager to make shape of the situation once she awoke.

Jareth didn't say anything more after that, and simply walked on. Mariella scurried to Sarah's side and tried her best to assess her well-being without rousing her. She couldn't detect a spell and it seemed she was in ample health condition. Hours passed, and so she took to knitting, hoping the mindless monotony would take her mind off of it all. Whether or not the needle had dropped by accident was anyone's guess.

She had mulled this all over again while Sarah was busy bathing. Now that she was gone, she had free reign to investigate the scene itself. She smelled the air about the bed, even the sheets themselves, but there was no tell. This had her thinking that maybe she had been up late studying after all; but at the same time, she was not blind to Sarah's knee-jerk reaction to the knowledge that it was Jareth who had mandated she not be bothered. Something had happened last night, and now that the possibility of harm was close to being ruled out, she was getting a little excited about it.

"Say...Marie...? Um...what are you doing?"

Mariella paused, she hadn't noticed Sarah coming out of the washroom. She put on a smile quickly however and made sure her hesitation went unnoticed.

"Oh me? I was just tidying your bed, that's all. My, that was a quick bath wasn't it?" she asked, trying to deflect and hide her lapse in composure. How long had it been? Sarah stood behind her, an arm raised to support the towel around her hair and a toothbrush hanging from the corner of her mouth. She disregarded Mariella's floundering however and continued walking towards her dressers.

"So, if you don't mind me asking, how did Jareth seem when you talked to him?" Sarah asked, the casualness about her when doing so being something noteworthy in Mariella's mind. Smoothing out the last of Sarah's pillows, she tried to decide whether or not embellishment could still be considered truthful.

"He was...fine I suppose. A bit sluggish himself, though you were both up rather late, no?" She watched intently as Sarah's hand, meaning to gently open her dresser drawer, yanked it open instead.

"Wha? He told you that?" Sarah asked, a nervous tremor to her voice. Mariella's eyes narrowed.

"Why yes, why else would you need added rest? He mentioned you were quite exerted-"

"What?!" Without even considering the consequences, Sarah's head whipped around, revealing the bright rouge of her face. "What exactly did he tell you?" she asked. Thoroughly satisfied, Mariella decided to ease up.

"That you were up studying of course? Worrying yourself to death over executing your role perfectly. Why? What did you think he said?" Sarah's wide-eyed gaze retracted into a pout as she turned back around.

"Something stupid...obviously," she grumbled, slamming her dresser drawers shut. _I do wonder though...why didn't he come get me himself? That's not like him..._ "Hey, so is there anything special I should be wearing for before the party?" she asked, changing the subject.

"Hmm...not particularly. Guests won't be arriving until sunset, so you have plenty of time before you need to worry about such things."

"Good. What do you think of this?" Mariella glanced over to eye the yellow chiffon frock Sarah was holding out in front of her. "This is pretty, right?" she asked.

"You're asking me for an aesthetic opinion? I didn't think you cared."

Sarah's eyes went wide for a moment, as if she were surprised herself.

"Yeah well...this is kind of a big day. It'll probably be beneficial to be a bit more self-conscious. So, yes or no?"

Mariella's eyes moved up and down, but not on the dress, then she smiled. There was something different about Sarah today. Something cheerful, something sound. She was actually trying rather than simply enduring. Such a pleasant change to start off the day.

"I think yes. That color will look lovely on you. Shall I summon some breakfast while you change?"

"Um...no. I've already overslept. We should probably get going. Roldan's going to be furious. I'll be ready in a minute."

* * *

"So, where are we going?" Sarah asked, following Mariella briskly down the hall. It was a rhetorical question of course, as Sarah knew exactly where this hall led.

True to her word, Sarah had been ready in no time at all and was quick, possibly even eager, to get out the door. She kept an alert eye on the halls as they walked, excited and suspicious of a certain Fae lord she may or may not run in to.

"To the main gate. Master Roldan has a carriage prepared." Sarah's brow rose.

"Oh...so are we all riding together then?" Sarah's voice turned tentative then, as she pondered the nearing possibility of a more than awkward run-in with Jareth. Having now reached the main gate, both women stopped as it gradually eased open.

"Oh, no. To my knowledge, both His Majesty and Master Roldan have long since departed the castle."

There was a hitch in Sarah's step.

"Wait, what? You mean we're alone?" That didn't make sense. Jareth was okay with her traveling through the kingdom without him? Walking a couple blocks was one thing, but this was official business. And besides, how embarrassing was it that they all just went on without her as she slept the day away? Seriously? Did he think she couldn't handle a night of sex-romping? Did he really see her as such a weak child? Better yet, wasn't today supposed to be a big deal? Mariella, oblivious to Sarah's frustration, merrily skipped ahead down the staircase before them.

"If alone you mean without His Majesty or Master Roldan, then yes. But, you should know this by now, you are never really alone."

With a furrowed brow, Sarah glanced up from the bottom of the staircase. The sun was bright today and the glare from the stone put a strain on her eyes. But what she saw next had her blinking repeatedly.

"Wha-what is all this?" Sarah asked. Mariella glanced back to her, her brow raised with candid inquiry.

"Hm? Why your detail, of course."

Lined from left to right across the landing of the staircase was a battalion of guards, heavily armored, well equipped. They stood silent and rigid, their visors obscuring their faces; but even so, she could tell their expressions were just as hard as their armor. They held heavy weapons and emitted low rumbles and grumbles with each breath. Of all the guards Sarah had seen, these were by far the most legitimate. When she stopped before them, the row bowed in unison and then split to make two rows leading her straight to the carriage, something she hadn't even been able to see past the intimidating stature of the soldiers.

Once the aisle had been formed, the squad rose their spears and struck the ground with a loud pound, but otherwise reverted back to staunch statues. With Mariella's subtle urging, the two moved down the aisle, Marie elegantly nodding to the guards while Sarah tried her best not to offend them with her gawking and confusion. Never had she seen the Goblins so well disciplined, and it had her wondering just what sort of system Jareth had going on here. To all appearances, Sarah's impression of the Goblin Kingdom was of absurdity and care-free disarray. But little by little, moments like this would appear, hinting at the true eminence and powerful affluence of a land she sadly knew nothing about. She steered away from those thoughts however and instead brought her attention to the contraption she was now about to enter.

The carriage itself was everything she had expected it to be, its frame embellished with deep wood carvings of figures and symbols she had come to recognize as integral to the aesthetic culture of the Goblin Kingdom. It was large, black and gold (colors she had recently learned that composed the kingdom's banner), and gaudy in a way that was acceptable in order to serve its purpose, but to Sarah it was personally a bit much. She also noticed that they were to be drawn by four horses bridled at the front, while a small cavalry of six astride those familiar reptilian steeds were set to escort them at the back. She took satisfaction in recognizing the significance in this. As Jareth had explained to her, horses were not native to the Underground, and thus served to represent one's wealth and prestige, thus the reason four of them would be pulling the Queen's carriage. The cavalry on the other hand, made due with something a bit more expendable and a little less pretentious.

The door to the carriage was opened by a guard, dressed differently than the rest. He wore a bright red emblem on his breastplate and a feathered crest on his helmet. Where the other soldiers carried halberds and banners, this one sheathed a sword at his hip. _This must be the Captain_, Sarah thought, and was about to bow her head to him, until she remembered today she was supposed to exude the authority of a proper Queen.

"Your carriage, My Lady," he said, bowing deep with an arm over his chest. Sarah was about to take a step, but stopped.

"Wait, Baldur?" Sarah stopped and turned, a smile stretching from ear to ear. "Is that you? Wow, it is, isn't it? I didn't even recognize you!" Forgetting her front, she stepped away from the threshold and bent down to try to get a peek behind the Goblin's visor, an act of familiarity that had the rest of the battalion standing stiff.

"Y-yes, it is, Your Majesty," Baldur said, trying to subtly shy away from Sarah's eager fingers.

"You have new armor again? I feel like every time I see you you're looking more and more fierce." She stood back with a hand on her hip, admiring the getup. He too took a step back, but could only look to the ground bashfully.

"This is formal wear, actually. Different from regular patrol armor..." he explained, his timid fingers gripping the handle to the carriage door.

"Oh wow, sure is fancy. I'm sorry, when I saw all those burly Goblins over there I didn't realize it would be you at the helm. Where's the rest of your squad?"

"Standing by in position, My Lady."

Sarah blinked then and then began to look around. That's right, Baldur's squad was known for their stealth, and she assumed that was the reason Jareth had chosen them to watch after her. This discovery made her happy, very happy. Although she'd only spent time with them on a few occasions, Sarah considered the lot to be good friends. They reminded her so much of Hoggle and Didymus and Ludo, seeing them and their cheerful faces always made her smile. It made her so happy to see Baldur gaining prestige and rising through the ranks like this, and she knew it was all because of Jareth. For some reason, he was going out of his way to further this one Goblin's career, after he had "fumbled" his first mission the day she had tripped while out running. She was curious to know why, why this helped her register some sort of compassion on Jareth's end. In perspective with everything else going on between them, this was an irrelevant matter; and yet it mattered to her more than most.

With a heartwarming grin, Sarah looked back to Baldur.

"I see. Well I have total confidence in you all. Thank you for putting forth the effort to look out for me."

Baldur bowed then and shook his head.

"It is a privilege to merely be present before the Queen herself. It is an honor to be charged with the keeping of Her Majesty; but it is sheer acclamation to be recognized by eyes so seraphic." He rose, and as he did so the rows of Knights stomped their spears and shouted some phrase that registered as incoherent to her. It startled her to say the least. She looked over her shoulder to find Mariella giggling softly.

"What was that?" Sarah asked.

"They were speaking in their native tongue. It means _long live and live for the Queen_." Sarah's eyes widened a bit, now affected by the display. Her eyes soon narrowed however, seeing Mariella was still stifling a snicker. "My apologies, I'm just in a very chipper mood. It would seem your people hold you in such high regard already and it warms my heart." Sarah had to agree with her on that. Being the object of such admiration, for absolutely no reason at all, was a very confusing and yet empowering thing.

She was broken from her daze by the clamoring of the horses, which were starting to fidget with impatience. Sarah shook her head and smiled at Balder.

"Thank you for the kind words. How about we shove off and get this thing started?"

"After you, My Lady," Baldur said, gently shutting the door behind them.


	95. Redboned, part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While unbeknown to her, Sarah has succeeded in obtaining the one thing the Goblin King has desired for hundreds of years -power over the Labyrinth. After being hidden for years from his diabolical wrath, Sarah finds herself alone and vulnerable as Jareth's dark desires are finally aloud to rear their ugly heads. As always, the only question is, are things really as they seem?

"Wow, you'd think we were in a parade," Sarah said, staring out the carriage window with a vigilant eye. The entourage was passing through what Sarah had dubbed Downtown Goblin City, and the reception among the locals was nothing shy of pure exaltation.

It started out with a few hollers here and there, scraggly voices yelling, "Look, look! A royal caravan!" and "The royal seal! It's the Queen! It's the Queen!". But soon a small gathering had turned into a flock and then a full out mob. Apparently, the Goblins were really excited.

As they passed through town and the crowds filled in, Sarah found she had to actually back away and was even tempted to lower the blind on the window. It wasn't that she didn't want to be seen or bothered by them, but catching a glimpse of her generated such excitement that things were quickly getting out of hand. Those who got too close were quickly removed by the escorts, in a manner that was not considerate, let alone civil. Wanting to avoid any violence, Sarah thought it might be better to keep a lower profile.

"Now that's interesting..." she heard Mariella murmur. Sarah glanced over to find her listening intently.

"What?"

"Oh, nothing really. it's just...some of the things they're saying," she said, her brow scrunching as if she were confused. Sarah's expression began to mirror it.

"What are they saying?" she asked, "Is the stuff in Goblin? ...er...whatever you would call their native tongue?"

"Yes...it's hard given all the clamor, but it sounds like they're saying _Keeper of the Heart, our Winged Lady_. I'm sorry, do you have any idea what that means?" Both Sarah and Mariella's expressions were wrought with equal bewilderment. Sarah shook her head and peered back out the window.

"No, I have no idea what that means. That's kind of weird, isn't it?" She hummed as she stared out the window, taking mental snapshots of all the Goblins as they passed by. They bounced and jittered with glee, throwing things like streamers and confetti up into the air. Scratch parade, it was a Goddamn festival.

"Maybe they're just excited. It's good to take pride in their rulers. And besides, it must have been a very long time since they last saw a caravan like this." Mariella spoke waywardly, but her words captured Sarah's complete attention. She leaned up off her hand and looked her in the eye.

"Yea, now that I think about it, you're right." _There hasn't been a Queen here since Aurelia...which means they haven't seen a procession like this in five-hundred years?...no wonder they're so excited_.

"Sarah?"

Sarah peered up, apparently her gaze as well as attention had fallen to the floor. Her eyes shot up quickly however, creating mild suspicion in her fellow passenger.

"Hm? Oh, it's nothing. Just thinking about things. Do you know how long of a trip this is going to be?" she asked, eager to not only change the subject, but distract herself from any melancholy thoughts that might arise from the recollection of Jareth's first wife.

"About an hour, not very long at all. To my knowledge the lodge is technically located on the castle grounds. However, it's buried so deeply within the forest that we must journey around to it." Sarah found herself frowning as Mariella explained this.

"So Jareth and Roldan left early this morning? That must have been an exciting ride..." She didn't know why, but it sounded like spite in her voice. Was she actually resenting not getting to ride with Jareth?

"Um...well, actually..." Sarah peered up at the apprehensive tone of Mariella's voice. "They did not journey by procession," she said. Sarah began to look up again.

"What do you mean? Then how did they get there?" she asked. Mariella, too, straightened some.

"They...oh, what's the word you always use...teleported?" she said, struggling for affirmation as Sarah simply stared in confusion. "Similar to the way I arrived from Fort Fyrn. You remember what I told you, yes?"

"That there was a door in Davion's castle that opens up in Jareth's? Yeah, you told me about that. So you're saying that's how Jareth and Roldan got the the lodge?"

"Precisely, yes."

"But, why? I mean, why are we riding for an hour in a carriage with all these guards if we could have just opened a door?"

"To be honest, I expressed the same concern to Master Roldan when he first informed me of the arrangement."

"Yeah? What'd he say?"

"He said that His Majesty thought this would be a prime opportunity to do some site-seeing and that you would enjoy the chance to view more of the kingdom firsthand...which was a sweet thought, I believe. No?" The way Marie's eyes met Sarah's just then held more than an implication and her accompanying smile was something Sarah was soon to scoff at.

"Stop trying to wingman for him. That sparkle in your eye helps with nothing," Sarah said, half-heartedly, and glared out the window. They were exiting the city limits now, passing alongside the expansive junkyard, though (as she noted) stayed clear of the walls of the Labyrinth.

"You can't deny that was a selfless and kind choice on his part."

"Kind, maybe. But selfless? Never. There's always an angle with him. Always."

"Maybe the angle is something as simple as making you happy." Sarah turned her glare back at Mariella.

"If that's the case then it's only because he wants me to perform well tonight. Letting me sleep in, providing an activity that he knows I will enjoy and even going so far as to omit himself from it; he just wants me to feel pampered and content so I don't fuck up his party." She grumbled as she spoke, resting her jaw on the heel of her hand as she stared out the window. The landscape of junk stretched far beyond the horizon; she wondered why, where it had all come from, why no one bothered to clean it up.

"Oh! I believe I know an Aboveground phrase for this tactic. It's called Devil's Advocate, right?" Sarah turned around then.

"Huh?"

"This constant opposition and skepticism you have. It's called playing devil's advocate, no?"

Sarah stared blankly, finding it hard to take Mariella's expression seriously. She spoke so innocently, with a smile that shown of self-satisfaction and pride. How could she be so simple, so cheerful all the time?

"No Marie, it's not. Playing devil's advocate is being antagonistic for the sake of being antagonistic. I have my reasons. I have many of them." Contrary to Sarah's somber tone, Mariella's brow rose suggestively and her eyes narrowed with intuition. Her wry smile remained silent however, as she was set not to provoke her any further than this.

"Of course, my apologies. I am biased by my limited perspective after all." Sarah was silent and lowered her eyes to the floor as Mariella began to turn towards her own window, though she was left unaware of the sly gaze that kept hold of her. "Then again, you are as well."

Sarah was about to protest when a loud thumping startled them both.

"Excuse me, Your Highness, My Lady. We've reached the halfway point and are about to enter Phos Forest. I recommend you close your blinds now. It would be best not to draw attention to the creatures within the wood."

"Oh, um, okay?" Sarah said, caught off guard by the stranger's voice and quickly lowered the blind. "Should we be worried?" Sarah asked. Mariella assumed the question was meant for her.

"Not particularly. It's just a precaution. These are hunting grounds after all, who knows what's lurking about."

Sarah got quiet then, recalling how she once ran straight into the thick of it without even a pause for consideration. In a way it made her feel stupid, but on the other the worst she'd run into (within the hours she spent moseying about) were the Fireys. But as the memories came back, she realized just how badly that situation could have ended if it weren't for Hoggle.

"I see..."

"Oh, don't look so ominous. If it wasn't safe His Majesty would have never suggested you ride in his absence. For all we know, he's watching over you right now."

That's right. Jareth could do that. She'd almost forgotten...

Leaving Mariella's comment on the fence, Sarah hunkered down and peeled back the blinds just slightly. She recognized this forest, its glow and shimmer, the way light cut through the leaves as if the rays themselves were thick and tangible. She saw fairies floating about the foliage and strange rodents scurrying into the underbrush. Jareth may have been right in thinking she would enjoy getting out of the castle, but it brought back a lot of memories as well, memories that made her current perspective a bit...difficult.

She didn't realize she had been lost in thought for so long when Mariella announced their impending arrival.

"Oh look! We're here! Oh Sarah, look how pretty it is!." She literally bounced with glee she was so excited. Sarah sat up and opened her blind, her outward detachment betrayed by her actual eagerness.

"Ah, what perfect timing, My Lady. We're just arriving now."

Sarah blinked with surprise to find a Goblin clinging to the side of the carriage, apparently the same one that had warned her about entering the forest. She didn't really respond, but looked out at the sight expectantly.

The carriage rounded a corner, the walls of dense trees thinning as the path entered a large clearing. It was then that Sarah was able to realize why the light here looked so different. There was a type of mist spreading, from the canopy itself it seemed. When the light passed through it, it refracted in such a way that made the very air shimmer. It was a beauty to see undisrupted by the trees. And through the mist, through the glimmering halo of light, stood the most beautiful work of architecture she had ever seen.

It stood tall, the highest points of its pinnacles reaching just above the trees. The amount of intricacy in its facade was awesome even at a distance. Like a Gothic cathedral made of dark wood, its very presence inspired something of an ethereal reverence. The path ended in a cul de sac, the center of which displayed a familiar Greek-inspired statue of high grandeur. She tried to inspect the statue's subject, but was quite frankly too overwhelmed with the vision of the lodge behind it to bother inspecting such details.

"Sarah?"

Just then a loud booming sound began to resonate in the carriage, followed by the playing of phantom horns and trumpets, presumably as a signal of their arrival. Sarah eased back from the shock of it, having never experienced such uniquely royal elegance. She watched the front of the caravan circle around until she herself was slowing before the main entrance. The door was opened for her, though she was hesitant to dismount.

"Pardon me," Mariella said, gently squeezing herself past Sarah, who only looked on confused. "It's custom for a Queen's ladies to exit before she herself," she then explained, hopping down from the step-up. Sarah found herself hesitating yet again, her body seemed to be moving mindlessly as she climbed down from the carriage. Baldur was waiting to greet her.

"Welcome, My Lady, to Grossven Lodge." He twirled his hand in circles as he bowed, the visor on his helmet now pulled back. Sarah smiled at him, but said nothing, still straining to wrap her head around all this. She flinched however once the soldiers started to leave.

"Wait-" she called back. "Am I going to see you at the ball tonight?" she asked, with a plea of desperation. "It's just...seeing you there would help me breathe easier I think, having a friendly face watching my back n' all." She shrugged awkwardly, not bothering to hide her trepidation. Mariella was quiet, but kept her eyes fixed on Sarah.

"Of course. If My Lady wishes it, so shall it be," he said, with another exaggerated bow.

"Shall we go inside then?" Mariella suggested, thinking it was due time now that the smile had returned to Sarah's face. Sarah nodded and proceeded to follow Marie inside.

* * *

"What. The. Hell. Is this place?" Sarah asked, turning around in circles as she scoped the entrance hall from top to bottom. It was massive, blatantly ridiculous, and extraordinarily beautiful. "If this is what you guys call a hunting lodge then I'm suddenly very disappointed in my uncle Shawn," she babbled, her circumspection finding no faults. Mariella gave a huff of laughter, but didn't quite understand enough to respond.

"From what I hear, this place is one of the Goblin Kingdom's secret gems," she replied instead.

"Damn straight."

"You'd think you would be more careful with your language given the pressures of the night."

Both women looked up to the stairwell, the one you simply couldn't miss. The one that had to span twenty feet wide and about fifty feet tall in the center of the lobby. The one Roldan was currently making his way down.

"Oh! Master Roldan! Ah, there you are! This place is simply stunning isn't it? Job well done on selecting such a fine venue." Mariella bounded her way to the bottom of the stairs, greeting Roldan warmly. Sarah on the other hand, took her time in sauntering over.

"Oh please, the choice was nothing but obvious. This is prime locale for a conquest, is it not?" Those words, whether he intended them to or not, hit Sarah hard. Her posture tensed and her gaze formed her usual glare.

"Perhaps you should be careful with your own language, should this festive mood of yours spoil all the hard work you put into firming my resolve." There was an awkwardness as Mariella stepped back from between the two, and suddenly their expressions matched.

"Ah, and a cheerful hello to you too, Sarah," Roldan said, sarcastically. Sarah sighed and crossed her arms.

"So what's the agenda then?" she asked, getting right to it. She didn't want Roldan (of all people) to spoil whatever amount of a good mood she had. She would need it come tonight. Roldan rose his brow and leaned against the banister.

"Hmph...your agenda does not begin until eight," he said, causing a perplexed twitch in Sarah's brow.

"Huh?" she asked. Roldan shifted his posture.

"You need not ready yourself until eight o'clock. Guests will start arriving then, and the main festivities will commence at nine when the sun sets."

"Then what am I supposed to do until then? I thought you wanted me up bright and early for all these preparations and whatnot," she said. Roldan sighed.

"I did. But...after some deliberations with Jareth...I have decided that the work I've put into you is sufficient enough, its execution is up to you. In the mean time, you are to relax, get situated in your chamber and explore the grounds."

"Explore the grounds?"

"Yes. We can't have you gawking about like a tourist once the ball starts. Both Jareth and I believe it will to beneficial for you to familiarize yourself with the estate now so that you feel more comfortable tonight."

Hm, that made sense. Sarah kept her lips pursed as she mulled this over, subtly shaking her head at Jareth's omniscient hand ever present in her affairs.

"So where is Jareth?" she asked. While the subject was on her mind...

"Couldn't tell you," he said, which had both Sarah and Marie surprised. "We've each been seeing to final preparations since this morning, though our paths haven't crossed much."

"Oh..." was all Sarah could say, admittedly disappointed. Would she not get to see him at all before the party? Was it going to be awkward? If she didn't know any better, she might say she was feeling a little guilty about sneaking away from him that morning, although she knew there was nothing to provoke such a feeling.

"Well, that's exciting isn't it?"

Sarah's attention came back to find Mariella beaming.

"Excuse me?" she asked. Mariella clapped her hands together.

"We get to go exploring! Doesn't that sound lovely? Oh, I can't wait. Master Roldan, would you care to show us to Sarah's room so we may start there?" she asked, giving him a toothy smile that stretched from ear to ear. Sarah nearly paled when he smiled back at her. SMILED.

"I suppose I can spare the time-"

"Oh geez," Sarah groaned, rolling her eyes away from the two of them. Roldan scowled at her for interrupting, but brushed it off once his eyes found Mariella again.

"Follow me. It's this way."

* * *

"Ohhh look! Everything's already all set up. This is perfect, just perfect."

Mariella rushed into the room bouncing on her toes, hands firmly clasped and her smile so wide Sarah was beginning to worry her face may get stuck like that. She however, entered cautiously, surveying everything intently.

For the most part, what she had seen of the lodge was actually quite similar to the inner parts of the castle (the parts occupied by Fae and not Goblins). Everything was made of the same dark wood of course, the walls lined with thick rugs and tapestries, every corner filled with some sort of oddly purposed furniture. The room was smaller than hers back at the castle but still spacious, its size actually adding to the resort-like feel of the place. She spotted her trunks piled off towards one end of the room, them being the things Mariella had dashed off to.

She took a few more steps as Mariella busied herself, running a hand along the finely woven comforter on the bed. It had a canopy, something she found rather uncanny as she recalled the one encasing Jareth's own. Quiet, she sat on the end of the bed and continued to look around. She saw the door to a washroom and a small breakfast nook tucked away on the far side of the room. That's when she noticed another group of trunks boding on the table. She narrowed her eyes, then became extremely suspicious.

"Say, Marie..."

"Hm? Yes?"

"You wouldn't happen to have any idea where Jareth is staying, do you?" she asked, only letting her eyes roll over to her once her sentence was finished. Mariella's energy dimmed considerably and she eased to sit back from the trunk she was rummaging through.

"Well...actually-" _and here it comes_. Sarah closed her eyes as she braced herself. "I believe you'll be sharing each other's company this night."

Sarah sighed and lowered her head, gripping the comforter tightly.

"Great...That's just great," she mumbled, smiling incredulously as she pondered the prospect. Oddly enough, it wasn't the company or the risk of sexual onslaught that bothered her. It was the sleeping. Sharing a room meant they had to sleep together. She didn't know why, but the idea of that skeeved her. Maybe it was the cuddling. It was probably the cuddling.

"Everything alright?" she asked, eyeing her curiously. Sarah's head shook from side to side as it rose.

"Yeah, yes. No use crying over spilled milk, right?" she said then stood. Mariella watched her warily. "Ah, it won't be too bad I guess. Maybe we'll both get shit-faced and call it a night." She glanced down to Mariella then, smiling at her own stupid sarcasm.

"Excuse me but...I'm a little confused. What are you planning to do?" The look in dear Mariella's eyes was near abhorrent, which was just so perfect.

"Drunk. It means drunk, Marie." Sarah hopped down from the bed after that and paced towards the door. "I think I'm gonna go for a walk," she said. Marie started to stand.

"Alright, I'll just do this later." Sarah turned around and raised a hand.

"Oh, no. That's alright. You were getting all excited about unpacking. I won't be of much use. I was just going to go stretch my legs while you do your thing," she said. Marie was almost hurt to hear Sarah did not want her company, but then she realized another possible reason she may want to go off alone. She sat back down and smiled.

"Okay then. I'll be here. Try not to get lost, but if you do just say so and a guard will appear to escort you."

"Okay, see you in a bit."

* * *

The atmosphere in the halls was airy and oddly relaxing. Things were bigger here than at the castle. The halls were wider, the ceilings taller. There were windows everywhere, showcasing the scenery like one masterful painting after another. The walls were lined with trophy heads of varying creatures, and Sarah found more intrigue in examining them than in exploring the building itself.

Most rooms were bedrooms, which made sense as it was a lodge. In between wings were large communal reading rooms and offices, similar to the castle, with a number of billiards and game rooms cast among them. It was all rather boring actually, aside from the aesthetic of it all.

At one point she found herself exiting to the main lobby, standing atop the massive staircase, the landing of which went in two directions, one to the wing she'd just explored and the other she assumed led to its reflection.

She descended the staircase and paced about the lobby once more. It was the most awesome room she'd seen in her opinion and walked it from one end to the other. Her footsteps echoed loudly against the marble floor but there was no one around to hear it. There stood guards every dozen feet or so, but she wasn't quite sure if they were real or simply empty suits of armor. She recalled her time in the Labyrinth, remembering that sometimes the architecture itself was alive and aware. Maybe she wasn't alone after all.

She stopped, looking down a line of doors that made up one wall, deciding which to choose, when she noticed something odd. The staircase was hollow, rather than a solid projection like she had assumed. Behind it stood a door, a good twenty feet high, slightly exposed from behind two massive drawing curtains. She approached it, half expecting it to be locked and was thus half surprised when it eased open. A light began to shine between the cracks and the low resonance of voices. She opened the door further and peered inside.

The energy of the room she stepped into was surprising, yet cloaked her enough to make her feel comfortable wandering through it.

It was a ballroom. Probably The Ballroom. The door opened to a staircase, not as massive as the other one, but still impressive. Made of white marble, it descended into a large elongated space. There were tall stone pillars lining the sides of the room, but there were no walls, the spaces between the pillars revealing the green lush of nature beyond. On the floor between the pillars were large metal vats. She didn't know what they were for, but could tell they housed some sort of black liquid. Scurrying about the dance floor were Goblins and other species of attendants arranging displays of flowers and the like. Noticing they were all servants, she felt comfortable enough to walk amongst them. Thankfully they didn't really notice her. Perhaps they didn't realize who she was. Perhaps they were simply too busy. It didn't matter, she was glad for it.

She looked up at the vaulted ceiling as she walked, gawking (as Roldan would put it) at the complexity and realism of its colossal fresco painting. She wasn't sure who had built these facilities, but they had obviously taken a keen interest in Renaissance architecture. She then wondered why the castle was so much different?

She looked down and by chance caught the flicker of gold moving like veins throughout the marble. When she looked back up, she was already at the other end of the hall. There were three doors facing her now, the center being the largest, and each framed with an intricate archivolt. She looked up the wall then, half expecting to see a regular rose window along with it, but found no such thing. She opened the largest door first which revealed a banquet hall as impressive as the rest of the place. She also found that the two smaller doors led to preparatory kitchens, which in turn led to the kitchens themselves housed underground.

All of this was interesting enough, but the whole time she couldn't help but feel empty, aimless. She thought about going back to Mariella, since she would definitely want to see all this, but doing so felt like admitting defeat to a challenge which remained a mystery. She realized then what her true aim was: finding Jareth. She hadn't even given him a thought till now but knew that to be the truth. It was disgusting, how much of a hypocrite she was.

"Finding everything to your satisfaction?"

Sarah blinked out of her daze and looked around to find Roldan standing behind her. She groaned inwardly and turned her body to face him.

"If anyone can find this place lacking they've got some serious egomania," she said with a half smile. Roldan's grin said he approved of her response, but it was hollow as ever.

"Jareth thought you would be impressed."

She huffed at that.

"Oh, really?" she asked, rhetorically. Roldan gave in to let his eyes wander about.

"Yes, I believe it was something along the lines of _I want the scenery to be as radiant as she_," he said, haphazardly mocking Jareth's voice. Sarah cocked a brow.

"You must be paraphrasing. If by _scenery_ you meant stage and by _she_ you meant the centerpiece, then I'd believe you."

Now that earned her a chuckle. Roldan smiled which, when cast on Sarah, was little more than a sneer.

"You're as pessimistic as ever, I see."

"I'm just trying to be real here. This party isn't for me; it's for Jareth to show off the prize he's stolen. All of this-"she said, twirling a finger around in the air, "is just to make him look good. I'm not stupid. He's showing off. I'm as much a part of the scenery as everything else."

Roldan's smile remained, though something in his eyes came alight.

"As long as you accept that, there's really nothing more to say on the matter, is there?" he said, condescendingly. Sarah fought the urge to scowl.

"Acceptance and abdication are two different things," she said.

"So you're simply giving up then? How refreshing."

"More like picking my battles. Apparently you think I have enough pride to risk diminishing this kingdom's reputation out of spite. The fact that you even think that reflects the strength of your own. I may have my issues with you and Jareth, but I will not make our people suffer for it. I have never even considered it. I will play the part and put up with this farce tonight because that is what is needed of me, but that says nothing about what happens behind closed doors."

Roldan was quiet for a moment, just long enough for Sarah to affirm her victory. His eyes flickered down as if contemplating something, and then a reluctant smirk curled one end of his lips. He huffed and looked back up to her.

"Oh, believe me, I know far too well the kinds of things that happen behind Jareth's closed doors," he said then turned and walked away. "I hope you enjoy the party tonight. I know the rest of us will," he called out, waving at her without bothering to turn. Sarah finally let her pout show through. It seemed neither was ever willing to give the other a break. Telling herself there were more important things to be worrying about, she shook off her funk and headed back to Marie.

* * *

"There you are! I thought you'd gotten lost, or worse, you went exploring without me!"

Sarah merely stared as Marie quibbled with melodramatic flare. She was still sitting on the floor right where Sarah had left her, only now the trunks were all unpacked, everything neatly placed.

"Or worse?" Sarah repeated, smirking down at her. After a moment of pouting, Mariella rolled her eyes and shrugged.

"Oh, you know I'm just kidding. But seriously, you were gone for so long. Did you go on without me?" she asked.

"I realized I was wandering and thought I should come back to get you. It wouldn't be very nice to ditch you when you were the one to get all excited about exploring in the first place. Plus, I think there's some stuff you'd really enjoy seeing." Now that perked her up.

"Really? Like what?" she asked, moving to stand to her feet.

"I found the ballroom. They were still setting things up, but the room itself looked really nice. I also found this trophy room, it's full of taxidermied animals and stuff." Mariella sort of cringed at that. Sarah shrugged. "Well, I thought it was interesting. Do you want to go?"

Mariella smoothed out the skirt of her dress and eyed a clock on the wall.

"Actually, it's almost three now. Why don't we get some lunch first? You did skip breakfast after all."

"Alright...do you know if we summon a servant or...?"

"Oh, I've heard marvelous tales of Grossven's dining suits. I'm sure one of the guards will direct us. Won't that be nice? Eating in a restaurant rather than your bedroom or that dusty old hall?" Sarah looked at her for a moment, wondering if she'd realize her blunder. Truth was, she'd meant no offense and none was taken.

"Can't really argue with that logic now can I? Lead the way," she said, smiling in response to Mariella's ever genuine happiness. As overbearing as it could be, it made her feel good to see her this happy. It gave her hope.

  



	96. Redboned, part 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While unbeknown to her, Sarah has succeeded in obtaining the one thing the Goblin King has desired for hundreds of years -power over the Labyrinth. After being hidden for years from his diabolical wrath, Sarah finds herself alone and vulnerable as Jareth's dark desires are finally aloud to rear their ugly heads. As always, the only question is, are things really as they seem?

Lunch passed, as did the rest of the afternoon's adventure. Together the two discovered the rest of the manor and even some of the grounds. Surrounding the ballroom were numerous gardens and ponds. Further back were training grounds and behind that stables and hound pens. To be honest, she would have liked to see the horses and dogs, but thought it wiser to stay as clean as possible. It was getting to be about that time after all, and she wasn't sure who she might run into.

Now came the part she had been dreading. She'd been doing pretty well keeping her nerves in check up until now; but now that she was standing face to face with that dress, all kinds of antsy butterflies were spreading their wings.

She was quiet and yielding as Mariella helped her dress. Everything went on just like before. She stared at herself in the mirror as Marie tightened the back of her bodice, and the whole time Sarah was trying to think of herself as anything but ridiculous. It was a battle yet to be won.

Her hand rose to her neck, fiddling with her mother's necklace. She hadn't taken it off since she'd rediscovered it, only to bathe. It fit nicely with the dress, the pendant sitting perfectly atop her bosom rather than getting lost within her cleavage, thanks to the effects of the bodice. She wondered how Jareth would respond to that. Actually, she knew exactly how he would respond. What she was actually doing was imagining it.

She didn't know if it was better or worse having not seen him. One part of her wanted his reassurance, to be the rock she denied he was. Another part was dreading the thought of seeing him; what could she possibly say after the things she'd done to him -let him do to her- last night? It was embarrassing beyond belief. She wasn't in her right head. As usual, she let her emotions get out of hand, even when she knew she had no chance. Not when he looked at her like that. Not when it was so easy to confuse which version was the dream.

"You look troubled."

Mariella's voice rang softly from over Sarah's shoulder. She turned and looked down to her as she fluffed out the skirt of her dress.

"Yeah well...I am."

"Don't be. Believe it or not, you've accomplished more than could ever be expected of you. If I were to have one criticism against Master Roldan, it would be his failure to acknowledge the capability within you," she said, which was deeply heartwarming.

"Thanks but...like I told Jareth before, theory and practice are two different things. I just hope I don't panic and freeze up or draw a blank. What I hope most of all is that I don't let something slip through."

"You mean your pheromones?" she inquired. Sarah nodded.

"Its still hard for me to wrap my head around it, but Jareth says I've been getting the hang of it..."

"More than that. I'd say you've got it down to a T now." Sarah smiled at that. There were times when Mariella would adopt some of Sarah's aboveground phrases as if they came to her naturally. "May I do your hair and make-up?" she asked.

"Go for it. Tonight I'm everybody's doll." She spoke with amusement, but the slight melancholy undertone rang through to Mariella clear as day. She knew this couldn't be easy for her, but she was determined to help make it as enjoyable for her as possible.

It took Mariella maybe a half hour to work her magic (literally), as she wanted to, quote: "_take my time and make sure every inch of you is perfect_". She'd been blocking Sarah's view of the mirror the entire time, and now that she was only 98% sure she was done, finally conceded to letting Sarah get a glimpse of her own face.

"Oh...oh wow," she said, actually raising a hand to touch her cheeks and make sure it wasn't a mirage. She'd been so against coming off as being feminine for Jareth's sake that she hadn't actually worn make-up in a long time. She didn't want to come off as conceited, but she'd forgotten how pretty she could be, and Marie knew exactly what she was doing. She'd put her hair in an updo, plenty of volume, plenty of curls; two long tendrils of which cascaded down to fall over her shoulder. She rubbed her lips together, playing with the unfamiliar feeling of glistening lipstick framing and plumping her mouth. She stood from the chair she'd been sitting in and turned from side to side. She couldn't deny the dress was beautiful and she wouldn't deny that she looked good in it. She was about to look about for her shoes when she recalled she wouldn't be wearing any. Something about tradition or whatever, it made no sense to her. The skirt of her dress rose a bit above her knee in front, and that worried her slightly, but the overall coverage was fine. At least she wouldn't overheat.

"I thought we were sharing rooms. How come Jareth hasn't come to get ready?" Sarah asked suddenly. Mariella's eyes flickered to the door on reflex as she thought.

"I don't know. Perhaps he thought not to disturb you at such a sensitive time?"

"Hmm..." Sarah grumbled, pouting at the mirror. Without Jareth, she would have to enter the scene alone. Well, she would be entering alone anyway, but having his support behind the door would have been nice. Mariella would have to do.

The walk to the grand staircase was timed by the growing pound of Sarah's heart as anxiety steadily hastened her pulse like an agonizing metronome. The halls themselves were quiet. It was the echo emanating from the ballroom that filled the void. She could feel her hands growing clammy and worried herself over all the hands she'd have to touch during these stupid dances.

"Do you remember what to do?" Mariella asked as they headed toward the back of the staircase.

"I enter alone. Everyone will look at me and pretend they're impressed. I have to then present myself as a stone cold bitch and enter the room. After that I just need to find Jareth, right?"

"Right, and what happens after that?"

"The first dance will begin."

"Good. Try not to focus on anything else. It will be hard and it won't be fun, but I know you can do it. You'll make us all proud, His Majesty the most."

"Uhuh, yeah," Sarah said, a nervous waver rearing its ugly head. She stared up at the large set of doors, mentally piecing together the room inside. Things would be better once she found Jareth. It was getting to that point that worried her. If Jareth was there to take the lead, everything would be fine.

"And remember, after the dance you'll be gradually approached by the council seats. They will speak firstly to you. You must remember that if you want His Majesty to take over you must give him explicit permission to do so." Oh shit, she'd forgotten about all that. She and Roldan had spent countless hours running through hypothetical discussion scenarios. She wasn't allowed to bow to men, but was obligated to bow to women. If a man was with a woman, she was not allowed to look him in the eye, the same if she was with Jareth. Women would always initiate a conversation, especially if with a male, and if it was a couple she was only allowed to speak directly to the female until given permission otherwise and the same went in reverse. All these people, these dangerous powerful strangers, would be sizing her up without restraint and it was up to her to set the playing field. Man, she prayed to God she wouldn't fuck up.

"Yeah, yeah, got it. _Phew_...ok, deep breaths..." She shook her hands as she spoke, as if she could simply shake off the anxiety. At least she wasn't alone. Mariella was a solid enough rock to lean on. "Will you come in with me?" she asked, already knowing the answer.

"No. This is your moment. I'll be arriving officially later on. I still need to get dressed myself after all," she pointed out. Sarah nodded, listening but not listening. She could hear the sounds of the orchestra clearly from beyond the door. It sounded so lovely. She hoped she would be able to enjoy it.

"Welp, here goes nothing. See you on the other side," Sarah said and, as if the walls themselves knew when she was ready, the doors began to open.

* * *

_Fuck. Shit. Ok, don't freak out. You can do this. Just take a step and don't fall down the stairs._

The room was brighter than it was earlier. The sun had finally set, and so the golden hued light of candles and torches singularly dominated and enriched the pale stone and marble. A commotion began to arise, uninhibited by the barrier of the door, the sounds of movement, laughter and conversation. The floor below her, once intimidating with its sheer vastness, was now nowhere to be found, completely obscured by the frenzy of dancers, waiters, loiterers and other passersby.

Sarah kept her head high and her shoulders squared as she entered the room. Using what brief time she had descending the staircase, she surveyed any changes in the room. The amount of displays and floral arrangements had more than tripled since she was last there that afternoon. Brilliant flourishes of golden roses and inky black thorns adorned the room. She recognized them; they were the same as the ones she'd found growing on the side of the Labyrinth. The vats between the columns now burgeoned with firmly contained fireballs. Apparently, the liquid she had seen was oil. There were figures, their entire bodies painted in gold, performing various tricks and gimmicks that no one paid any attention to. The servers all wore decorated masks, and she suspected it was to hide their less than charming Goblin faces.

The closer she came to the crowd, the more relaxed she felt. There was no grand entrance, no trumpet playing or heralding. No one had even stopped to throw her a glance. It was as if she were like any other guest, and she supposed that was because as of right now she was perfectly insignificant. After all, what gave her stature was Jareth, and he had yet to make his public claim.

The stone of the dance floor was surprisingly warm, probably thawed by the bare feet of every other woman there. The men all wore boots and she was actually quite envious of that. Immersing into the crowd had broken up its silhouette, allowing her to appreciate the fine detailing gone into the decorations. The hall was currently broken up into three dance floors, each marked by a tile pattern on the floor, the spaces in between serving as common areas. Sarah found this alarming for a split second, as this was not the same floor she had seen but a few hours earlier. In the center of the room, there now hung a worryingly massive chandelier. As she gazed up at it, she grew concerned for its stability, but realized she may be "gawking" and quickly cast the thought away.

She moved both confidently and cautiously through the crowd, gaining more and more ease the longer people ignored her. She wondered then, if they recognized her and were ignoring her on custom, or simply had no idea who she was at all. She was careful with the way she walked, of her posture and her expression. She thought she was being vigilant, but quickly realized all her worrying was self-reflective. She'd made it about halfway through the hall when she actually stopped to have a good look around. She didn't recognize a single person, and by that she meant hadn't seen Jareth, Roldan or even Davion.

Another wave of nervousness hit her then. How long was this going to take? Did she actually have to search out Jareth? Finding no other alternative, that was exactly what she did.

Eyes flickering from person to person, she moved slowly like an animal on the prowl. What ever wandering eyes met hers soon looked away, having no apparent interest in her at all. Minutes started to pass and she found herself growing frustrated. She'd paced the entire room now and was back where she had started. Her shoulders sagged a little as she stared into the crowd of dancers before her. Everyone here looked like they were really enjoying themselves. It reminded her of the last time she had been pushing through a crowd of strange faces and twisted smiles. She'd been searching for him that time too. Her mind rambled then, recalling moments from that night, that dream. But for as much joy as they brought her, right now it only made her feel disheartened for the task at hand. Her eyes flickered to the floor as her strong expression faded to a pout. At least she wasn't all that nervous anymore. She looked up then, and a swarm of butterflies hit her straight in the gut.

She almost gasped, she was just that on edge. Her eyes widened and her lips parted, but she couldn't speak. Jareth's smile on her was gallant, his eyes dark and charged with excitement. She knew that expression, that fang-like grin. And she knew it had no place in the current situation. She took half a step back but her eyes stayed glued to his. His gaze flickered over her in a flash and then his smile curled a little more.

"You ready?" he asked, more challenge in his gaze than ever before. Sarah closed her mouth and gulped down her nerves, nodding slowly. "Good."

Placing a hand over his heart, Jareth cast his free arm out to the side and bowed low, kicking out a leg and bending a knee in a grand gesture. Sarah simply stared. She didn't know if she was in shock or what, but having him catch her off guard like that took her breath away. His outfit was similar to the other dress robes she'd seen him in, only instead of blue, his coat was glittering with gold and silver jewels. The lapels fanned wide, the tails of his coat falling low, his polished and embossed boots rising well above his knees. He was certainly an image, one that was now bowing before her and had yet to move a single muscle.

The room grew quiet then. The music stopped, causing Sarah to look around as every single person in the room moved into position, though she was unsure of what that position was. Jareth finally stood and as he did, the rest of the crowd bowed, making he and Sarah the most prominent figures in the hall. Jareth stepped closer to her, the ferocity of his icy blue eyes hitting her hard. She was speechless as those eyes bore into her, knowing her from the inside and out, shameless, rapacious.

Purposefully holding her gaze for as long as possible, Jareth rose a hand, signaling she do the same. Sarah took another nervous gulp. This was something she had never been good at. The whole point of the Introduction was to be as close to your partner as possible without ever touching them. She held her hand out in front of Jareth's and the space between them sizzled with tension left over from the night before. Recognition hit them instantly, though while it had Jareth grinning salaciously, Sarah forced herself to glare away. He turned then so that they both addressed the crowd, the entirety of which was still bowing. They then stood in unison and turned to their own partners. The men then bowed to their own ladies just as Jareth had done to her. The orchestra started to play. It started as a low beat, gradually growing in volume and speed. Then came the layering of strings and the light melody of a flute.

"You look nervous," Jareth said, peering over to her out of the corner of his eye. Sarah did the same, but found she now had to hide a blush that was randomly intruding upon her face.

"Of course I am. I've been freaking out all day. Where have you been? I could have used the support you know," she said, quick and hushed. The rhythm was almost set now. They'd have to take their first step soon-

"Well if that's the case, perhaps you shouldn't have snuck away from my room this morning."

A hiccup of panic nearly choked her as she reflexively turned to him with a wide-eyed glare. She didn't have time for it though, as the bass had struck and she was about to miss the first step. She inhaled sharply and locked her gaze straight ahead of her.

Sarah wasn't quite sure what was happening around her, not the crowd, not even Jareth. All she could focus on was landing the steps. She fought hard not to look at her feet and fought even harder not to look over at Jareth. Their hands were never more than an inch apart and never less than a hair's width. At certain points she could feel him moving around her; the proximity of his chest nearly touching her bare shoulders, of the sleeve of his jacket ghosting across the hair on her forearms standing straight with the shivers he caused. It was excruciating. She knew better, and yet all she could picture were the things he had done last night, things he could do to her this night.

At last, the time came to switch off. One moment Jareth was beside her, the next a stranger. This time however, she had absolutely no interest in looking over. Instead, she focused herself on spying Jareth out in the crowd. Time passed, one partner turned into another and another, she was growing dizzy from all the circles she'd waltzed in, and still she had yet to spot him. She began to grow disappointed. He'd gone through the effort to sneak up on her like that and now she was left hanging.

She met another partner and blatantly ignored him as he bowed -as did they all when each switch was made. She moved her body effortlessly. This was the slowest of the dances, so she could afford to get away with a little preoccupation. The tempo began to escalate, signaling the end was near. She moved around her partner, felt the sensation of his body just shy of hers, but it wasn't the same. Not at all. Paying attention to the final riff, she twirled on cue, turning to strike the final stance perfectly on time. And just as she did, did she look down on Jareth, bowing one final time as the music slowly faded away.

She could feel her heartbeat quickening again, rising with her eyes as Jareth straightened himself before her. For a moment, his expression was serious, until his eyes found hers and a small smile of approval took its place.

"Did you do that on purpose?" he asked, as the crowd gradually dissipated. Sarah scrunched her brow, thankful his voice was enough to break her daze.

"Do what?" she asked.

In a startling gesture, Jareth suddenly took a step forward, his hand raising to capture her jaw. His face grew close to hers much too quickly, giving Sarah no time to react on anything but instinct as she parted her lips in anticipation.

"Everything I knew you would."

She gasped when his lips stopped just shy of hers, her eyes wide and painfully aware of their surroundings. Jareth's attention however, was solely on her, his bright vivacious eyes now shaded with a singular and intimate desire. But, after registering her gasp, it was as if he too considered their surroundings, and instead of pushing forward that one missing centimeter, turned to the side and kissed her softly on the cheek.

"Hmm...wouldn't want to ruin your make-up, now would we?" he asked, softly, teasingly, soberly. She blinked at him with an addled daze, screaming at herself to calm her stupid racing heart. The markings around his eyes were dark and smokey, just like the night he'd come for her. Seeing it so close made her want to reach out and touch it, just to see if it would smear.

"Mariella did it," was the stupid response she'd come up with. Jareth eased back from her, letting his eyes examine her at their leisure.

"I was wondering when she might become useful...though, I can only give her so much credit," he said, and wrapped an arm around her waist, jerking her in closer. She had to raise her hands to his chest to brace herself. He lowered his lips to her ear and spoke softly, "I knew you would make this dress beautiful."

She turned her head away from him sharply, staring hard at the floor.

"Isn't this a bit improper? There are eyes on us, you know."

"Oh, I know. Just a moment ago they were all on you."

"Huh?" She looked back to him then.

"During the dance. I was watching. There wasn't a single being whose full attention you did not have." Sarah's eyes widened a bit.

"Wai-wha? I didn't notice any of that." She began to speak in a rush, feeling retrospective embarrassment. Jareth smiled then, and in it she saw something of pride.

"I know. You looked through them as if they were nothing more than dust on the tile."

"That was because I was focusing on not messing up! And...I was looking for you." She lowered her gaze to the side as she spoke, thinking it better to get out of his hold. Jareth cocked his head as he regarded her. He was so happy and she couldn't have looked more adorable to him in that moment.

"It gives me such satisfaction to hear you admit that," he said, giving her a cheeky grin when she shot her gaze back to him but was left unaffected. He was glad he had gotten to see her. She was on edge, but she was in control and she was content. It was reassuring to say the least.

* * *

To say the bustle of the day had been hectic was putting it mildly. Even with magic, the whole event had been planned rather short notice, so there were expected setbacks. But none of that mattered to Jareth, especially not that morning.

He'd woken up, and for the first time felt implicit happiness. He inhaled deeply through his nose and reached out across the bed. The sheets were matted, but found vacant. He opened his eyes and hoped it was the strength of the sun's rays distorting his vision, but as the haze of sleep cleared he realized it was no mirage; he was in fact alone. He leaned up, rubbing at his eyes and scowling. He was exhausted and that rarely happened. He'd been at it all night with Sarah and even though he was not new to such things, it had worn him out unexpectedly.

He ran a hand through his hair and peered around the room, hoping she was simply out of sight. Sensing his solitude, he made his way out of bed and towards a quick shower. It was around seven, the time he would usually go to wake her. He was still groggy from sleep, but made the trek to her room anyway. Perhaps that was why he made it. Not surprisingly, he found her curled up and fast asleep in her own bed.

He just stared at her for a moment, debating with himself whether or not to wake her. As he thought, he knelt down beside the bed to get a closer look at her. Her lips were still swollen, though the red chafe around them was fading. Her hair was a mess and had taken on an unusual curl because of it. Her smell was glorious, of sex and of him, but mostly of her. Her own scent was so intoxicating all on its own, it was probably a good thing she kept her pheromones in constant check. He might devolve into an animal otherwise. Especially now that she knew how to wield it.

He ran a hand through her hair to push it back, revealing her neck and shoulder. His brow tightened then. There were finger bruises on her arms from where he held her down and blotched hickeys consuming her neck. While he had no problem admiring his own handiwork, such things simply wouldn't do for tonight. With a wave of his hand he cleansed her entirely, removing all traces. She would probably thank him for that, if she even realized. Seeing them made him remember the marks on his own body, of the surprising sting that shot up his back at the first touch of hot water. She wasn't strong enough to leave the kinds of bruises he could, but his muscles were sore from the places she'd bitten, where she'd fought to hold him down with all she had.

Her arm shifted, bringing her hand close to her face. Jareth's eyes lingered on her fingers, steadily recovering another memory of that night, one he thought may have been a dream entirely.

It was shortly after they'd fallen asleep. Well, she had fallen asleep. He knew he was exhausted, but was half gearing up for the next round when he looked over to find her breathing softly into his pillow. He rolled onto his side to face her, admiring her nude form contoured by a sheet made transparent by the moon's light. She kept her arms close to her, her breath creating a warm moisture on her hand.

As his eyes traveled down her they became more focused. Light glinted off the necklace she still wore, the only thing she still wore, its pendant lost somewhere within her hair. He reached out and pulled on it lightly, his brow now furrowed with contemplation. Her behavior that night had been unexpected from the very start and he was of course wondering if this trinket had anything to do with it. He didn't yet know if his charm would have any side effects, and had to simply trust in the idea that whatever mood swings Sarah had from now on would be her own and that tonight was the result of his spell working it out of her system. It shouldn't affect her any more than that. As long as she wore it, everything should be fine. He told himself this over and over; but the truth was, he was still skeptical. He'd found the spell in an ancient book, ancient even by his standards, with half its pages missing. It was a long shot, but it was a risk that needed taking. Sarah simply couldn't handle Liana. But perhaps what was a more accurate motivation, was that neither could Jareth.

He pulled his hand away from her and let his eyes fall on her hand once more. It was so slight and small, and yet there were times when she could wield them like battle axes. He reached out but hesitated, then became frustrated when he thought to ponder why. He wanted to touch her. Nothing had ever stopped him before. And yet, the following attempt to simply reach out and take hold of that hand of hers again proved naught. He became flustered then. It felt juvenile, both for wanting to hold her hand as well as for not being able to bring himself to do so. He stared at her hard and suddenly, holding onto her became his most precious desire. He'd held her in so many ways for so many hours that night. Why was this proving so troublesome?

_Tch.._ He sneered and glared away, rolling over to stare at the ceiling, but eventually his eyes traveled back to her. He hadn't expected this. Never in his whole life had he wanted something as simple and as irrelevant as holding a woman's hand this badly. It was asinine.

After a while, he sighed and pressed the heel of his hands into his brow. This was so stupid. He'd crossed the line of being apprehensive, this was just plain cowardice. He rolled over and latched a hand around her jaw, kissing her without preamble. But even so, she was so physically exhausted, he had no chance in waking her. He stared at her in disbelief. He could grab ahold and kiss her, but not touch her fucking hand? What was wrong with him? Why was he feeling like this? His thumb stroked her cheek, betraying his frustration. Finally admitting defeat, he laid back down and closed his eyes. At least she would be there in the morning.

Of course, she hadn't been there that morning. So, as Jareth knelt beside the bed staring at her, conjuring up all kinds of hurt and resentment, he found himself questioning why he in truth felt so peaceful. His pride had been hurt for sure, but it was not of her doing. Should he ask why she left? Would it even matter? Did it even matter?

She turned and nuzzled her face into her pillow, then murmured under her breath. Her fingers squeezed the sheets when he heard his name, coming out as no more than a muddled whimper over her tongue. He found himself smiling then. For some reason that was enough.

He stood and left the room, wondering if the day would end just as curious as it began.

That day flew by quickly until Jareth found himself loitering on the dance floor, absently mingling with faces he didn't even care to discern. He knew what he was waiting for and he knew exactly when she would arrive.

He hadn't seen her dress before hand. He trusted both Sarah's taste and Mariella's judgement to find something nothing less than exceptional. The moment she entered the room there was a change in the air, a hum that shot straight up his spine. He turned and found her instantly, standing tall and proud atop the staircase. She was undeniably skittish, but he took pride in the fact that only he knew her well enough to be able to pick up on such subtle mannerisms.

He watched her for a long while, keeping a healthy distance so that she wouldn't spot him. He knew she was looking for him and he wanted to revel in it. Guests would try to flag him down as he circled his prey, but he had no interest in them. He assessed as well as observed her. She kept her posture strict, her expression stern. She showed no interest in her surroundings nor the strangers encroaching on her. That was good. She was doing well.

There was a point when she stopped dead center. She remained well composed but he could tell she was getting frustrated. And seeing that look on her face, feeling that slight rush that came from a game of cat and mouse, now that always got his blood pumping.

He took a step toward her but stopped dead. In perfect synchrony, the crowd dissipated just enough to create a frame around her. He hadn't yet been this close, and the effect her profile and the cut of her dress alone had on him was alarmingly profound. His eyes first moved up the smooth ivory of her legs left exposed by her dress. She stood on her toes rather than flat-footed, creating a delicate arch from the floor to her heel and the beauty that revealed itself in such details Jareth found to be simply...exquisite.

With her shoulders pressed back she puffed out her chest, which only added to the effect of her bodice. There was such a balance to her silhouette, as the flat planes of her stomach and back rounded into her bosom and backside. She turned, and although she didn't realize it she had looked straight at him.

There was never a beauty so ravishing or a yearning so ravenous as that of Jareth's eyes burning on hers.

He saw her as beautiful in every light, under any condition, but he couldn't deny the shock that hit him after seeing those glistening lips and those thick fluttering lashes up close. His love had suddenly evolved from the child left behind in his dreams to a woman of considerable potency. The sharpness of her eyebrows contrasted perfectly to the gradient blush of her cheeks, and the penetrating force of her eyes by the plump, welcoming wantonness of her painted lips. He wanted to devour her instantly; the effort it took to restrain himself from doing so causing his heart to beat fast. He smiled then. He smiled for all the world to see. This woman was his. She was everything, and she was his.

It was this feeling of total enthrallment and near reverence that enveloped him now as he stared down at her, pouting as she tried to hide her embarrassment from everyone but him.

* * *


	97. Redboned, part 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While unbeknown to her, Sarah has succeeded in obtaining the one thing the Goblin King has desired for hundreds of years -power over the Labyrinth. After being hidden for years from his diabolical wrath, Sarah finds herself alone and vulnerable as Jareth's dark desires are finally aloud to rear their ugly heads. As always, the only question is, are things really as they seem?

"It gives me such satisfaction to hear you admit that," he said, giving her a cheeky grin when she shot her gaze back to him.

"Listen, before you get into it, I'll let you know that I only skipped out on you this morning because I hate cuddling with you." Jareth's brow rose a bit. He wasn't quite expecting her to give it up so quickly. His eyes darted down for a moment, noticing she was fighting the urge to cross her arms. His smile broadened anew.

"What? Are you still worrying over that? Good to know you were feeling guilty after all," he said, teasingly. Sarah scowled and huffed.

"Whatever. Shut up. I was not feeling guilty. We have more important things to worry about and I wanted to get that out of the way."

_Uhuh, sure..._ He stopped himself from mocking her, letting his stare convey it for him. He got lost in their conversation for a moment, forgetting they were still standing in the middle of the dance floor.

"So what happens now?" She asked, and he realized he'd been zoning out for a few seconds now.

"Now we wait," he said, taking her hand in his and leading her away. She didn't hesitate in the slightest nor show the slightest recoil when his thumb tenderly caressed the back of her hand.

"Wait?"

"It may be official, but this is still a party. The other council seats will be approaching us shortly, though gradually. I suppose that means we're free to enjoy ourselves in between."

Sarah eyed him suspiciously given his tone. It was downright chipper and that didn't bode well with her. Roldan was having a cow worrying over her performance, but Jareth...

"Enjoy ourselves, yeah, right," she said, sarcastically. Jareth brushed off her comment by jerking her closer to his side.

"Come, I'll get you a drink."

* * *

"So...what is this exactly?" Sarah asked, giving the flute Jareth had given her as polite a stink-eye possible.

"Champagne. What else?" Jareth said, sloshing the pale liquid around in a circle before downing the whole thing in one gulp. Sarah stared at him, her fingers tightening on the glass.

"Do you really think that's a good idea? Shouldn't I be as focused and sober as possible?" she asked. Jareth shrugged.

"In that case, more for me."

She glared when he plucked the glass from her hands and downed it like it was water.

"Hey, maybe you should be focused too," she said, with warning. Jareth shot her an eye.

"This is my engagement party. Did you think I would not enjoy it to the fullest?"

Oh, now that got a rise out of her.

"So while I'm being targeted and worrying my ass off, you get to go around and get wasted bragging about what a fine prize I am?" Her voice was getting louder, though she did well to keep it contained. Jareth rose a sassy brow at her.

"Exactly. At least you're finally starting to appreciate your value."

Ohhh...if this was how he was going to be the entire night, she couldn't imagine it ending in anything but a shit storm.

"Shouldn't you be a bit more cautious here? Supportive maybe?" They were lucky no one had even gotten close to approaching them yet. No one would hear the anger in her voice, which was just as well, as she expressed it through smiles and false pleasantries.

"Apparently I'm giving you more support than you can handle. My confidence in you is resolute. If it wasn't I wouldn't plan on getting shit-faced tonight."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, did you just say shit-faced?"

"Oh, is that what I said? I must be picking up on someone's bad habits."

Sarah was ready to grind her teeth and start growling at him when an unidentified figure suddenly interrupted Jareth's teasing.

"I know you may think you're in your own little world but could you please save your ogling for another time?!"

Sarah turned and gaped at Roldan in horror. He had a firm scowl on his face, which signified his awareness of their spat. _What. What did he just say? I was not ogling!_

"You've got it wrong. I'm just trying my best not to rip my hair out," Sarah said, glaring away from them both. Jareth smirked as he spied her out of the corner of his eye. Roldan rolled his and sighed heavily.

"I see you've already found the tap..." Roldan said, eyeing the two empty flutes Jareth still held.

"Please, this is my estate. The tap found me." Sarah huffed and shook her head. At least she and Roldan could agree in this instance. "Was there something you needed, or did you come here to offer Sarah your praise on her flawless entrance?" The sincerity in Jareth's voice was uncanny, leaving Sarah unsure whether or not to buy into it.

"She performed as it was necessary to perform. You can hardly expect to be rewarded for actions that would normally go without saying." She pouted at Roldan's response, but honestly hadn't expected anything less.

"Well I think she performed marvelously," Jareth said, reaching around to grab another drink from a passing waiter. Sarah's gaze was wide with disbelief. Since when was he a drinker?

"Good for you. But could you please try to restrain yourself? I saw Braxton making his way over."

"Wait, you mean Bryce Braxton?" Sarah asked, as if it would be any other. Bryce Braxton was the King of Yore, a nation thoroughly interwoven with the Goblin Kingdom. To her knowledge, he and Jareth were "friends". But then again, she really had no idea. Roldan nodded and moved off to the side.

"I figured you would be needing my discretion."

Sarah's brow twisted as he said that.

"Huh? What do you mean?"

Roldan's eyes glared over at Jareth for a moment as he watched him sip from his glass, then he moved again to glower behind he and Sarah.

"Jareth has a hard time remembering names. Especially when he's determined to have a good time." Sarah too turned to stare at Jareth.

"Wait, so you're telling me I had to stay up two nights in a row memorizing names and faces when this guy over here, who's known them for years and years can't be bothered?" What the hell did Jareth turn into? Was he really such a hedon at parties? He had to know who these people were, he had to.

"Be wary of your tone Sweet Thing. Eyes are on you now, after all." Jareth's careless response did little to justify him. "Oh stop. Don't give me that look. Since when are you one to side with Roldan? Of course I know their names. The ones who matter at least. But you can't expect me to remember every lesser noble or auspicious thane across eight separate kingdoms."

"Maybe if you actually held Court there wouldn't be such a problem..." Roldan grumbled. Sarah didn't know who to respond to first. Thankfully, she didn't have to when she spotted a man heading their way.

She recognized him from his portrait immediately, though seeing someone in a picture was always different from seeing them in person. He was average in every sense, brown hair, brown eyes. So average in fact that it struck her as odd. He looked almost...human. She knew from the bio Roldan had provided her that Braxton was actually half human. His mother, like she, was a bride of conquest. She wasn't quite sure what this meant. To her understanding, the Fae only crossbred in order to evolve and further their species, gaining the attributes of others. So why they would choose to mix with humans, she just didn't know. But then again, appearances could be deceiving and maybe it was just shallow of her to have assumed all Fae would be as striking as the few she knew.

He approached her casually, keeping a hand on his belt as he gave her a quick once over, then bowed emphatically.

"Good Evening, My Lady. Forgive my intrusion, but allow me to be the first to welcome you. My name is-"

"Bryce Braxton. Yes, I know." For a split second, the smile on Braxton's face faded as he stood from his bow, his head lifting with a raised brow. "Of the kingdom of Yore, yes? How could I not recognize you?" Sarah continued, her face bright and her smile endearing. Jareth stared at her silently, wondering what in the hell she was doing. After a moment of inspection, the smile returned to Braxton's face and his eyes brightened with a more sincere light.

"It is always an honor to be acknowledged by a stranger, let alone a coming Queen," he said, taking her hand and giving it a polite peck. Sarah nodded her head and responded with a smile Jareth thought natural only to royalty.

"Ah, but the pleasure must be mine. After all, you are a heralded leader in close affiliation with my own nation's King, and I am still but a simple girl."

Was she putting on a show? Fuck yes she was putting on a show. If ever her skills from drama club could come into play, tonight was it. She'd been so nervous, and yet as soon as the moment called for it, slipping into character was instantaneous. Maybe that's what it was. She wasn't actually trying to be this person, she was acting as a character, which required a far different mindset. She could feel the surprise steadily churning about both Jareth and Roldan, and that only gave her more confidence.

Braxton rose an impressed eyebrow at her and nodded his head.

"Well, if it must be yours then so it shall be. But please allow this humble fellow the delight of such refreshing banter," he said, placing a hand over his heart. The charming grin and aura of natural elegance radiating from Sarah's facade had Jareth gaping down at her like a creature from another dimension.

"A delight indeed."

Braxton eased back a bit, apparently it was time to include everyone else in the conversation.

"I must say, I am pleasantly surprised at the choice. Easy on the eyes _and_ charming. Who would have thought?" He spoke at Sarah, but she knew he was speaking to Jareth. She turned then and touched Jareth's arm, feigning the loving relationship they didn't have.

"Hm, that's interesting. Is it really that surprising?" she asked, that being her subtle cue to let Jareth take over. Roldan had taught her such tricks. She was worried when he'd first told her Jareth wouldn't be allowed to speak unless given explicit permission, but there was a bit more finesse to it than that.

"Surprising? Hell, I find myself completely flabbergasted," he said, raising his brow as he finished off the last of his drink.

"At the bottle already, Jareth? The night's just started!" Braxton said. Apparently Sarah's segue had been successful.

"Don't patronize me. We all know I could drink you under the table. There's nothing wrong with enjoying the atmosphere," Jareth said, coyly wrapping an arm around Sarah's hip.

This was too weird. Jareth was behaving...like a regular dude. He was relaxed and _happy_. What the hell? She'd never seen him interact with someone who wasn't a subordinate (or simply disliked). She'd also never seen him in a social environment. As strange and suspicious as it was, she was actually enjoying it.

"I can't disagree with you there. Marvelous job with the renovations by the way. I remember my father telling me about this place, but his descriptions simply don't do you justice," he said, which Sarah found interesting. Had Jareth had the building redone recently? That might explain all the Aboveground influences. "Well, I've taken far too much of Your Majesties' time. I'll leave you to enjoy your wonderful festivity, until the next monger comes to gain some face."

He left then, giving Sarah a slight bow before moseying into the crowd.

Sarah let out a sigh of relief so heavy it made her shoulders sag. Her facade was over for now, but she was surprised she'd even had it in her to begin with. Perhaps panicking didn't always lead to disaster. With this in mind, she turned to Jareth for his verdict.

"What the hell was that?"

Surprisingly, it was Roldan who spoke. She turned back to face him with innocent eyes.

"What? Did I do something wrong? He seemed happy."

Sarah couldn't quite discern the look on Roldan's face. He looked angry, enraged even. But it was mingled with disbelief and sheer bewilderment. Had he been making that face behind her the whole time?

"When and where did you learn to be so debonair?" he asked. His tone was accusatory. Sarah stared at him blankly.

"Um, you? You were the one who made me role play through all those mock-discussions. Did you really think I wasn't paying attention?"

This time it was Roldan who stared blankly, which meant the answer was a big fat yes. She huffed and shook her head away from him. The least he could do was be happy she hadn't blundered.

"Sarah."

She looked up to Jareth then. The way he spoke made it sound like he thought he had been forgotten. Her eyes were wide and expectant, thus caught of guard by the stern intensity of his.

What?" she asked, wondering if she'd done something to piss him off. "Are you mad that I interrupted him? I know that was rude, but he seemed like the type of guy to respect confidence. I didn't want him to think I was cowering as I struggled from one sentence to another."

It became awkward when he didn't answer her, those demanding eyes of his piercing straight through her. He took a sharp breath then and it became apparent just how rigidly he had been standing.

"Come with me," he said, grabbing her wrist and yanking her away without a second glance. Sarah however, shot a concerned look back at Roldan, a look which grew even more concerned when she saw his look of alarm lain clearly on his face.

He pulled her through the dance hall, exiting through the space between the columns and didn't stop until they were far from light's reach.

He released her hand and took a few steps forward. Sarah stood in silence, looking on with worry as he began pacing and running a hand along his forehead. She then looked back from where they came. They weren't very far from the open hall, but far enough not to be disturbed. She wondered if she should be preparing herself to run for the hills.

"Um...Jareth? Are you alright?" she asked, tentatively. He was still pacing, the brightness of the moon and stars creating just enough visibility. "If I did something wrong, I didn't mean it. I told you I was nervous-"

"Stop. Just stop talking." The flustered, possibly even agitated tone of his voice had her taking half a step back. He stopped pacing and took a deep breath. "I just couldn't look at you any longer," he then said, a comment that placed Sarah firmly on the defensive.

"Excuse me? Well I'm sorry. If you needed to get away from me you could have dragged yourself out here and left me in there where it's warm," she said, giving in to finally cross her arms and express her irritation. Jareth started shaking his head.

"You don't get it. I couldn't look at you any longer like that. I need a minute to get ahold of myself."

"What? What on earth are you talking about?" she asked, fed up and about ready to stomp her way back to the party.

Jareth turned and walked towards her. She held her ground when he raised a hand to the side of her face and bit the inside of her cheek as she braced herself for something to happen. Jareth was prone to mood swings, she knew that; but she could usually figure out what triggered them and it was usually one of her own. Not now however. She had no fucking idea what was going on in his head right now.

Capturing the other side of her face with his free hand, he lifted her to her toes and kissed her. She blinked rapidly in confusion, but the smooth tenderness about him was quick to envelop her. She lowered down from her toes and parted her lips as he kissed her again, this time closing her eyes and placing her hands on his arms.

He pulled away and stared at her intently.

"If I stared at you like that for one moment longer I would have been the one to blunder," he said, with total seriousness. Sarah's eyes widened. This night was becoming surreal. Too surreal. "If you're going to exceed my expectations to such a high degree give me a minor forewarning. I was barely restraining myself from slamming you into one of those pillars and taking you then and there."

_Oh._ Oh man. How was a girl to respond to something like that?

"Wha? Jareth, what's gotten into you?" she asked, a mixture of concern and alarm in her eyes. Jareth closed his eyes and eased back, if only slightly.

"I...I don't know. Just the way you looked, the way you spoke. Seeing you just now was enough to plainly rebut any of Roldan's skepticism. I knew you had the potential to be a good Queen but..."

"So...you freaking out right now is a good thing?" Sarah asked, eyeing him carefully. Jareth was quiet, taking the time to settle down.

"Why did you leave this morning?" he asked.

"What?" Sarah replied. Well, that was a quick tangent.

"Why did you leave? Last night was..."

"Last night was a lot of things," she was quick to interject. "I left because...I wasn't sure what some of those things were," she continued, feeling the need to give him as much honesty as he was displaying to her. Indeed last night was a lot things, and whether she could fully realize the extent of it, it changed a lot of things too. She felt different today. She felt more like her old self. And for once, she got to be that with Jareth. She didn't know at what point the change had occurred, whether it was between the sheets or between their hearts, but there was no denying things were different now. Jareth himself was different. She wondered if he'd experienced the same type of shift she had.

Jareth remained quiet, his eyes closing as he pressed their foreheads together. He savored the smell of her, hidden behind a cloud of perfume. He wanted to take her away. He didn't care about this event anymore. She'd completely blindsided him just now and he was already in a compromised state of mind to begin with. The feeling burning his insides refused to abate. But this burn he didn't mind. It was a burning of longing and he writhed in it. He knew then just how hopelessly he loved her and how mad it drove him. He saw the chain of her necklace glinting in the night light and for a moment he found himself considering the true ambition in his life. He'd found Sarah for a purpose. Chosen her to fulfill that purpose. He'd only wanted one thing his entire rule and now that she was so close to giving it to him, he found himself yearning for something completely different. He wanted Liana. But what he needed, what he craved and ached for was something far more elusive. Perhaps if he hadn't been so selfish. If he hadn't been so cruel. If he hadn't been so impatient. If he had known then what he knew now, had treated her the way she secretly desired, maybe then she would love him already. Maybe he wouldn't have shattered the love she'd once had.

Deeply sobered by his torrent of thoughts, Jareth pulled away and let go of her face. It'd been quiet for over a minute now, and to Sarah that was a painfully long amount of time. He stared blankly at her worried gaze, chiding himself for losing his grip. Here he was, wearing his heart on on his sleeve and damn near ready to rip it clean off, and she could only stare up at him with nothing more insightful than puzzlement. He was foolish, letting one night of weakened inhibitions get the better of him.

"Jareth?" Sarah spoke, her voice a quiet break in the rhythm of crickets and jittering insects.

"We should head back to Roldan now. We have guests waiting after all," he said, his voice now devoid of any and all emotion. Sarah frowned. She didn't like that. Something was off, in more ways than one. She watched him start to walk away from her and in a moment of impulse reached out and embraced him from behind. Realizing what she'd done, she panicked and quickly thought of something to say.

"Thank you...for having such faith in me. This might seem weird, considering we're usually at each other's throats, but I'm glad I could meet your expectations let alone exceed them. It means a lot that you're actually proud of me."

There was a silence, but a comfortable one.

"Is it me, or is something different today?" he asked, and Sarah was relieved to hear some of the cheerfulness return to his voice.

"Well...I did wake up on the wrong side of the bed this morning."


	98. Redboned, part 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While unbeknown to her, Sarah has succeeded in obtaining the one thing the Goblin King has desired for hundreds of years -power over the Labyrinth. After being hidden for years from his diabolical wrath, Sarah finds herself alone and vulnerable as Jareth's dark desires are finally aloud to rear their ugly heads. As always, the only question is, are things really as they seem?

"Where the hell did you run off to?!"

The strained rasp of Roldan's whisper-yell fully expressed his impending hysteria as he lectured his own King and Queen behind the cover of a tall pillar.

"You realize you are the sole reason why these people are here yes? People have been asking for you, and here you are sneaking out from the bushes!"

Jareth stared at the crowd impatiently as Roldan ranted. Sarah was close behind him, staring down and knotting her fingers from the scolding.

"Contain yourself before you make a scene. We were gone no more than ten minutes. I don't see the rafters caving in from the mass ravings of our sensitive partygoers." Jareth's arms were crossed now, aggravation and boredom lining his voice. Roldan pouted for a moment, his eyes wandering over to Sarah and inspecting her closely. Yes, they were gone ten minutes. And in those ten minutes Roldan had near about lost his head. He could only guess what they were doing, what if someone saw them sneaking out into the cover of darkness? This wasn't any old get together. It was Goddamn ceremonial! Sarah seemed to be taking Roldan's words seriously however, which had him pondering deeply exactly what had happened while they were away.

"I swear, I feel more like a nagging mother than your advisor," he grumbled, shaking his head and turning back to look over the room.

"Then perhaps you should stop nagging and start advising. Believe it or not, I can handle my self," Jareth said, earning him a surprised stare from Sarah. _He says that, and yet he was just losing his shit out in the middle of a field..._

"Fine, then I advise you to return to the party at once. The Barrage with begin shortly, and I know several guests who will want to get a good look at Sarah beforehand."

Hm? He worded that a little strangely didn't he? Sarah pondered Roldan's phrasing for a bit, trying to figure out why she felt there was some significant meaning to it. Jareth shrugged, then extended an arm she was meant to take.

"Very well. As always, your council is most invaluable," he said, standing proud as he led Sarah back into the dance hall.

They hadn't taken more than a few steps when Sarah was suddenly lurched upon by a familiar willowy figure.

"Oh, My Lady, there you are!" Mariella gasped, fighting the natural urge to reach out to her. Sarah gaped back a bit, startled by her arrival. She wore a pink shimmery gown, layered with tulle and silk. It was very pretty, the soft rose color complementing her olive complexion perfectly. More of her neck and shoulders were exposed than usual, revealing more of the exotic marking that covered her body. Sensing Sarah's apprehension, she eased back as well and bowed, remembering she was a servant. "Forgive me, I was just so worried."

"Worried? Why?" Sarah asked.

"I found Master Roldan soon after I arrived, however he was very upset, saying you had disappeared and he couldn't find you. I am so relieved now however." And she really was, nearly out of breath over the matter in fact. Sarah peered up to Jareth, but he was complacently quiet. She didn't know if she could get used to that. This whole _no talking_ thing.

"Roldan is just being dramatic. We just went to get some fresh air. Everything is fine," Sarah said, trying her best to reassure her.

"Oh, and allow me to pass along my praise to His Majesty on orchestrating such a marvelous event. Simply stunning." Sarah blinked, before she realizing the social cue she'd missed.

"Ah, yes. All that running around really paid off, didn't it?" she asked him, inviting him to the conversation.

"I always attain my ambitions. There was never any question about it," he said, cryptically. Sarah turned her false smile away and back to Mariella. She knew he didn't much care for the nymph, and was starting to think things might get awkward if it remained just the three of them. She started looking around for Roldan. He couldn't be very far.

"_Alexielee and Ygdrain are up ahead._" -Speak of the devil. She and Jareth caught Roldan's whisper as he moved, along with Mariella, to take their places behind them. Sarah recalled Alexielee immediately and stood as straight as possible.

Alexielee was the King of Meyhaven, perhaps the most pretentious of the kingdoms. They valued their culture, their art and their heritage. The people of Meyhaven took pride in the purity of their bloodlines; the King and Queen themselves being first cousins. Roldan had warned her about being approached by them, saying that if they weren't the most ruthless, they would be the most judgmental. Because of their predispositions, they didn't approve of any conquest marriages and thus would probably stigmatize her from the start.

She spotted them early after Roldan's warning. They weren't exactly hard to miss. People of Meyhaven looked different from any other Fae. They'd procured a set of dominant traits that labeled them without question. Their skin was pure white, though opaque, different from the translucence of simply being pale. Their hair was also pale, the only trace of color being a tint of yellow or purple given a certain light. If not from that, she recognized Alexielee by his eyes. In the portrait she had seen, he exhibited a fierce animal-like gaze due to the gold and amber glow of his irises. As he approached them closer, Sarah could see those eyes simmering with intensity resulting from thick black eyeliner that shaped them perfectly. His wife, Ygdrain, she hadn't seen before though was not surprised by her appearance. She looked eerily similar to her husband, which made sense given their relation. She was taller than Sarah, but still much shorter than Alexielee. Her eyes however, were an unsettling blood red and sat large on her face. Both had the same hairstyle, long and straight, matching the simplicity of their robes. She felt slightly worried then, seeing such a stark difference in their styles.

She peered up to Jareth, not sure what to do when they reached them, and saw he was already staring at them intently, a strange wry smile curling his lips. She realized then the reason for Alexielee's strong gaze. They were staring each other down. Sarah thought it wise to take a different approach than the one she had taken with Braxton.

Their greeting was composed of a steady silence.

Sarah did her best not to appear intimidated, but it was difficult given the unwavering stare of Lady Ygdrain. She had such pretty bone structure, the sharpness of her cheeks and brow decorated by deep spirals which looked to have been carved directly from her porcelain face. Alexielee exhibited these same markings, which led her to believe they were genetic. The silence stretched and the anxiety within Sarah grew. Her stare was haunting. Those deep round eyes vacantly probing her. She didn't blink once, but would tilt her head slowly to the side like some lobotomized bedlamite.

Seeing no other way to break the tension, Sarah spoke up first.

"Your Grace, Lady Ygdrain, and your husband His Majesty King Alexielee, welcome," she said, bowing in deference to the strange Fae Queen. The woman continued to stare even after Sarah straightened and then she blinked. After which, she moved to bow in return. Sarah tried not to clench her fists. She had no idea how to read these people.

"So interesting, is it not? A human that does not cower before creatures of such divine reverence," she said, her voice along with her mannerisms, seeming to move in slow motion. She blinked again and tilted her head to the other side. That's when Sarah noticed the way she was clinging to her husband's arm. It wasn't submissive like the way she held Jareth's; it was possessive. It was challenging.

"And yet we are all creatures under a greater divinity," Sarah responded, proud for her quick thinking. Ygdrain was quiet, apparently taking some time to process the worth of Sarah's words.

"My husband wishes to convey his respects," she then said, rather quickly. "It has been so long since a divine last proffered his grace."

Okay...what the hell did that mean? Saving that quandary for later, Sarah nodded her head and smiled slightly.

"Then by all means, I must allow my King to accept."

This felt odd, referring to Jareth as her King. But Roldan had told her to. Because they weren't married, she obviously couldn't call him her husband and fiancé' or future husband were too improper. And by no means was she to refer to him as Jareth. She figured he must be loving this, hearing her say all these submissive things and not being able to do a thing about it.

With that, the two men were permitted their part. Jareth stepped a little closer to Sarah, raising a hand to caress the small of her back. She figured it was meant to sooth her, which in turn meant she had done something right.

"You look radiant tonight, My Lady, the very essence of grace itself," Jareth said, bowing to her. "As do you, Alexiel. Proud as ever."

"Your woman here, she is rather pulchritudinous herself, no?"

Sarah stared at the man. _What? What was that word he just used?_

"Fairest in all her land," Jareth said, proudly. _Oh, so he said I was pretty?_

"If I could doubt you I would not. But is it not a waste to spoil such equal potential on something so..."

"Curtailed?" Ygdrain finished her husband's sentence. Sarah was starting to get antsy here, finding it difficult to understand them. Aside from their vocabulary, they spoke with heavy accents. Jareth seemed to be confident enough. Maybe it would be best to just stand there and smile.

"You limit yourself," Jareth began, "Mankind's contribution to our evolution has been essential, intrinsic even, to our being."

"But is a legacy gained more valuable than a legacy lost? A Daemon's pride indeed."

Sarah fought hard not to scrunch her brow. Did she say demon? Was that just her accent? What the hell was a Daemon? They were speaking so cryptically, and she couldn't help but suspect it was on purpose. She kept her eyes from looking up, but she could tell Alexielee was staring at her.

"There are no Daemons," Jareth said. "And no such things as purebloods. Why cling to something that has already withered from my grasp? I hold no prejudices. In fact, I commend the amalgam of Nature's children, of the power that lies between forces yet to be known to one another."

Sarah stood a little stiffer. She wasn't sure, but she thought he was talking about children just then. She could see Alexielee smile from the peripheral of her gaze.

"Ah, then you acknowledge the risk in your follies? May Fortune shine favorably upon you, if there was ever a lady so dark and so cruel." She could feel the pale king's gaze on her as he'd said that, though she had no idea what it meant. Without notice, Alexielee bowed to her, signaling the end of their visit. Jareth then bowed to Ygdrain, and then the two women promptly bowed to one another. They turned away without a word, gliding like a breeze back into the crowd.

Sarah turned and shot Jareth one hell of an eye.

"What was all that just now?!" she whispered. Jareth, with his hand still on her back, turned her, urging her away with him out of the limelight.

"That was the King and Queen of Meyhaven," he said, plainly. Sarah turned back to Roldan, hoping for a better result.

"Seriously, do _you_ know what that was all about?" she asked.

"Meyhavian's are an extremely superficial people," Jareth said, answering her before Roldan could get the chance. "They rely only on what they have, their art, their land, their genealogy."

"You said there were no such things as purebloods. I thought the Meyhavian's took pride in the purity of their lines?" she asked.

"Purity on a spectrum, yes," Jareth clarified, allowing them to stop in a less crowded area. A waiter dashed by, and of course Jareth was not left empty handed. He became preoccupied then, so she turned back to Roldan.

"There hasn't been something of a pure blooded Fae in over a millennia," he explained.

"What? Really? I knew there were hybrid species but..."

"All that's left is hybrid species," Jareth said, inspecting his glass before quickly downing it. Sarah tried to ignore that.

"Why do they look so different then? What are they mixed with?" she asked.

"They're mixed only with a type of Elf, long since extinct, that was once native to the region. Soon after Meyhaven was established, its borders were figuratively closed. Meyhavian's were only allowed to breed with Meyhavian's. Therefore it is true, they are the most pureblooded Fae left," Jareth explained.

"What are you then?" she asked, curious to why Ygdrain had used words like divine and grace and Daemon. Jareth smiled, the kind of smile that was meant to hold something back.

"Wouldn't you like to know."

Sarah opened her mouth, about to bombard him with a million questions, when a surprise voice caught them all off guard.

"Excuse me!"

Sarah looked down and nearly jumped to find a small boy standing directly in front of her. No one else had any physical reaction, but she could sense they were equally surprised.

"Um, hello?" she said, not sure how to handle him. Was he someone important? A prince maybe? The boy giggled and covered his mouth, his eyes on her hauntingly mischievous.

"You're pretty," he said, giving her a toothy smile and wobbling back on his heels. Sarah looked to Jareth for help, but he was a stone.

"Thank you. You look quite dashing yourself," she said, trying to be careful not to assume anything and treat him like every other guest.

"Are you two really getting married?" he asked, which caught her off guard. She blinked at him before responding.

"Yes. That's what this party is for," she said. The boy leaned in. He was a youngster, barely up to Sarah's hip. He rose a hand to shield his mouth as if trying to hide his next words from Jareth.

"Yeah, but are you _reallllly_ going to marry him?"

She didn't know how to respond. There was an odd tension floating between Jareth and Roldan, though each were dead quiet. Just who exactly was this kid?

"It looks that way," she said. The child wobbled back a bit and gazed about as if pondering something. Sarah had an idea then, so she hunkered down to be at eye-level with him. "Forgive me, but I can't stand looking down on you. My name is Sarah, and I welcome you," she said, making sure neither her tone nor her smile came off as patronizing. The child stared at her for a moment, clearly surprised, and then his face lit up like the fourth of July.

"Your eyes are hungry," he said, something which had Sarah twitching out of her polite smile. The boy reached out then and placed his two tiny hands on either side of her face, then leaned in so they were nose to nose. "He's going to have fun with you," he said, then, strangely enough, licked the side of her face before giggling and running off into the crowd.

Sarah stood, abashed, and looked up to Jareth. His gaze however, was cast off in the wake of the child. His expression was stern. Something was off. She wiped the saliva from her cheek and jerked on his sleeve.

"Okay, so what was _that_ all about?" she asked, the range in peculiarity of these encounters was getting to be too much for her already. Jareth's brow twitched then, his gaze icy.

"I'm not sure..." he said, then gestured her towards another part of the room.

The Barrage came next, which was a healthy clusterfuck all on its own. Sarah did her best, and she had to admit her best was actually pretty good. She stumbled a few times, but caught herself quick. Jareth had offered they dance to something slower, but she refused. She wanted to get all these meet n' greets out of the way as soon as possible.

At one point, some of the lesser nobles had started to make their appearance, most of whom were resident to the Goblin Kingdom. Unlike before, Jareth was actually somewhat eager for her to meet them. After all, these would be her subjects, the others were just spectators. It was during one of these conversations that something caught Sarah's attention. She'd heard laughter. A child's laughter. She turned and, like a flash, saw the boy from earlier skipping through the crowd. She took a step towards him, there was something strange about this lad. He appeared to her again but was quickly obscured by the skirts he wove between. She took another step, and another, and reached out for the boy. But just when she thought she was about to be sucked into some strange void, was startled back to reality by another high-pitch sound.

"Hi!"

Sarah turned around to look down on the head of a young girl, standing prettily with a wide smile and her hands clasped behind her back. Sarah looked over her and saw Jareth just a few feet away, distracted by the discussion.

"Um, hello?" Sarah said, warily. Why were these children so creepy?

"Are you two getting married?" she asked. Sarah looked at her strangely. There was definitely something going on here.

"Um, yes."

The girl cocked her head and bounced up and down on her toes. Sarah thought maybe she and the boy were siblings. They had similar faces, the same colored eyes, same colored hair. Actually...if her hair were short, she would say they were the same person... A light bulb was slowly flickering on deep within Sarah's suspicious psyche.

"But are you _realllllly_ getting married?" the girl asked, bowing all cute-like.

"That's why I'm here," Sarah said.

"Is it?" she asked. Sarah furrowed her brow, trying to analyze the subtext of her words.

"Why else would I be here?" she asked, tempted to play along. The girl twirled around in a circle and hummed at the ceiling.

"Mmmm...How would I know? I'm just a silly little girl," she said, then stopped her spinning. "Hey, wanna know a secret?" she asked.

"Alright..." Sarah said, kneeling down just as she had before. The little girl tiptoed up and rose a hand to whisper in her ear.

"_His eyes are hungrier than yours_."

"Sarah?"

Sarah looked up just as Jareth called her name. He looked concerned. She went to stand, but hesitated with surprise when she realized the little girl was nowhere in sight. Jareth approached her and offered her a hand.

"What were you doing?" he asked. Sarah shook her head and took his hand.

"That girl...did you see that little girl?"

"What girl?" His eyes narrowed, inspecting her carefully.

"I don't know. Some creepy little girl was just talking to me, like the boy from earlier. Do you know who they are?" she asked. Jareth's expression was dour and he could only shake his head grimly.

"It could be any number of people," he said, something that Sarah found intriguing, as he had referred to them as It instead of They.

"Majesty- I believe Maruna and Mathias are making their way over."

Sarah's eyes followed Roldan, impressed with how much of a ghost he was being tonight. She thought those names over for a moment. _Maruna and Mathias...Jeju? Great, more children_.

Maruna was currently the Regent of Jeju. Her son, Mathias was still too young to assume the throne after his father's death some years ago. Sarah tried to compile a mental checklist of all the seats they'd been approached by thus far. After this, there was Garon of Erastor, Faris D'Ion, Jaevonne of Masoch and Bezaleel of the Shadow Lands. God, this was going to be a long night.

She was pulled from her contemplations by the sound of footsteps hurriedly rushing toward them. A boy, older than the one she'd met earlier, came to a screeching halt and bowed deeply before her.

"Mathias, show some manners!" came a rougher, more mature voice. Behind the boy appeared a woman, presumably Maruna. She looked exactly like her portrait, donned in a flowing purple dress that matched her dark caramel skin. Her hair was done up magnificently, with gold clips and beads hanging from it.

"Sorry Mama," the boy said, lowering his head in shame. Taking her disgruntled eyes from her son, Maruna looked up to Sarah with an effortless smile.

"Sarah, I presume. Please forgive my son, he has yet to acclimate to such a festive atmosphere," she said, bowing slowly. Sarah bowed in return.

"No fault at all. His spirit is charming," she said.

"I tried to stave him, but he wanted to present himself to you badly. Seeing others come and go, as he claims, was unbearable."

"How sweet. I'm honored," Sarah said, turning to Jareth to cue him in. "His earnestness is quite charming, isn't it?"

"Yes, charming like his father no doubt."

Sarah stiffened then. One sentence out of Jareth's mouth and it was about Maruna's dead husband. Roldan had told her explicitly not to even come close to alluding to the late King Aylore. And Jareth, why did he look so irritated right now? He gripped his glass tightly, with a tension about him that said he wanted nothing more than to turn around and walk away. She looked back to Maruna with worry, but she had a smile on her face.

"But not quite as charming as you," she said, and then some sort of wavelength was made, something Sarah wasn't privy to. Huh? Was there some sort of bad blood between these two?

"Will you not extend your favor to my bride? That is what you approached us for, no?"

Whoa, why was he getting so defensive? Sarah stood a little closer to him, he hadn't been like this with any of the others.

"My favor is given without question. Who would not feel joy when receiving the knowledge that the..._illustrious_ King of Goblins' collaring is but imminent?"

Okay...Sarah was sensing some serious sarcasm in that last one. She spied on Jareth, curious for his reaction.

"You make it sound almost regrettable, Maruna. Should your son really be exposed to that two-edged tongue of yours?"

Sarah could feel the tension between them rising and tried to think of a way to break it.

"Now is _that_ any way to speak in front of a child? To his own mother at that?" Sarah interjected, almost immediately regretting the decision to do so. Both Jareth and Maruna shot gazes at her, Jareth's a glare while Maruna's full of amusement.

"My, my, what a delight," Maruna said, her smile growing with excitement. "He may let you buckle the collar, but let's see if you can hold the leash."

"Um, excuse me?" _Who says that to a complete stranger? In front of their ten year-old son?_

"Oh dear, poor thing. If your grip ever strains I'd be willing to take it from you. If you have any grip at all that is."

She wasn't quite sure what this woman was getting at, but she could tell she was insulting her big time. Jareth hadn't stopped her yet, which wasn't good for Sarah's temper.

"You needn't worry. I can handle myself and My King just fine," she said, her anger showing through. Maruna snickered under her breath.

"Simply delightful," she said, her eyes going from Sarah to Jareth then back again. "Go on and extend your blessing Mathias, I think our job is done."

"Congratulations! Thank you for allowing us to be a part of such a lovely event. I look forward to seeing you again, My Lady." Such strong words coming from such an adorable face was enough to thaw any heart. Well, maybe not Jareth's. The meeting ended with the usual bows and then they were walking away. Sarah stood quiet for a moment, nervous to break the silence. She looked up at Jareth. His scowl hadn't changed.

"You're mad," she said. Jareth took a deep breath.

"You're lucky," he said.

"Why?"

Jareth turned and grabbed her tightly by the arm.

"If that wasn't exactly what you needed to do, you would be worried about where I am taking you," he said, which had her plenty worried all on its own.

"Geez, you're hurting me. Can you ease up already? What are you talking about? What the hell was that pissing contest back there anyway?" she asked, earning her a swift jerk as Jareth threw her around the side of a pillar just out of sight.

"Enough with the vulgarity," he snapped, standing a few feet away from her and glaring out over the scene. Sarah leaned back against the pillar, confused why he bothered bringing her here.

"What do you mean that was exactly what I had to do?" she asked, folding her arms over her chest. Jareth took a moment to answer, and so she let her eyes follow his. Hmph, Roldan was probably going nuts trying to find them again.

"She was testing you," he said, which was a given.

"Yeah, I got that. Question is, why. What was going on between you two?" she probed. Jareth's eyes narrowed. As much as he didn't want to get into this, he had been preparing himself for it for a long while now.

"She wanted to test your claim to me."

"What? I thought you were the one claiming me?" she asked.

"Yes, but after you accept, I become yours. You know this."

Yes, she did, kind of. It had been explained to her by three different persons now, but it still made no sense. The whole _let me rule you and I will be your slave_ thing.

"So...she wanted to see if I claimed you? Why would she care?"

Jareth closed his eyes then, anticipating the moment he'd been dreading.

"Because if you didn't, then she would."

  



	99. Redboned, part 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While unbeknown to her, Sarah has succeeded in obtaining the one thing the Goblin King has desired for hundreds of years -power over the Labyrinth. After being hidden for years from his diabolical wrath, Sarah finds herself alone and vulnerable as Jareth's dark desires are finally aloud to rear their ugly heads. As always, the only question is, are things really as they seem?

"What?" Sarah asked. Well that hit her like a brick in the head. What? It wasn't even so much what he had said, but the fact that he now looked so Goddamn depressed about it. She readjusted herself against the pillar and forced herself to look anywhere but at him.

"Do you see the dancers?" he asked. Sarah looked over at the myriad of figures twirling in constant rhythm over yonder.

"Yeah. What about them?"

Jareth closed his eyes again and winced as he tried to put the words together. Geez, he was really having a hard time with this, wasn't he? What was the big deal already?

"Actually, never mind. It's not important," he said. Sarah leaned up off the pillar.

"Whoa, I don't think so. You're freaking me out. What's the problem? What's this business with Maruna? Is there something I should know?" she asked.

"Yes, but not now," he said and took her hand to lead her back into the room. She dug her feet into the tile.

"No. Let go. Tell me what's got you all frazzled. If it has to do with me I deserve to know, Jareth," she demanded, pulling her wrist from his grasp. He let go effortlessly, in case anyone were watching.

"People may be bowing to you now, but don't forget your place. You are still mine," he said, reaching out for her arm once more. Sarah jerked it back and stepped away further.

"No. I'm not going to be manhandled by you. What ever reason you've got for keeping this secret isn't good enough and you're only making it worse. Why would she try to claim you? How can she even do that? Why did you bring up dancing?" She was trying so hard not to raise her voice and he was trying so hard not to slam her into the stone. This was his fault for coming half way and then backing out. He needed to tell her. He figured it would make more sense in the moment, but now he just wanted nothing to do with it. Damn Maruna, pawing at him like that. She was just spiteful of his rejection.

"She wanted me as a mate," he said, plainly. Sarah eased back.

"A what?" she asked.

"She wanted to take me as a mate at one point and I refused her. She was testing your claim to me to see if she still had a chance," he explained, leaving out everything that was actually important. Sarah furrowed her brow and fell back against the pillar.

"You mean an affair? She wanted to have an affair with you?" Sarah asked, for clarification. Jareth shook his head.

"No. It was not a relationship. It was a contract."

"...But...why? I mean, is that a thing? I thought inter-ruler ties weren't allowed?"

"Marriages. Inter-ruler marriages are not allowed. That has nothing to do with who fornicates with who."

Sarah found herself frowning. This was all very confusing and she had a hunch that there was still a whole lot he wasn't telling her. He did however look deeply frustrated by it, which led her to infer that he wasn't too keen on the whole thing. She wanted to probe further while she still could.

"So, you can make contracts for sex? I don't understand."

"And there's absolutely no reason for you to. Just let it go already," he snapped at her, revealing just how much this topic was truly affecting him. She stared at him hard in the eye, but it was clear she wasn't getting any more out of him.

"I'm thirsty," she said. Jareth stared at her.

"What?"

"I'm thirsty. Go get me a drink," she demanded. Jareth rose his brow.

"Excuse me?"

"Weren't you the one who said I wasn't allowed to get anything for myself? That if I wanted anything I had to ask the nearest male? Well I want a drink. I also don't want to be anywhere near you right now. Go get me a drink and maybe by the time you get back we can both be calm enough to go back to the party," she said, arms tightly crossed, feet firmly planted. Jareth fisted his hands at his sides. Oh, all the things he wanted to do to her right now. He took a step towards her, getting so close she had to flatten out against the pillar.

"Don't think this won't go unpunished. What happens behind closed doors, right?" he said, mockingly, leaving her to wonder how in the world he'd heard that part of her and Roldan's conversation. His stalking capabilities were terrifying, and she found it disturbing that she now took such things as part of her daily routine. She was happy when he walked away however, shaking her head at how ridiculous their squabbles were getting.

"Well, he's a regular old brute, now isn't he?"

Sarah looked up, suddenly regretting that she was alone, but felt a wave of relief hit her when she met the gaze of the dapper young man casually smiling back at her.

"Davion?!"

* * *

Jareth sulked his way through the ballroom. This event may have been in his and Sarah's honor, but once the pleasantries were out of the way, no one really cared why they were there, only that they were. The Fae were known for their _gatherings_, even in the Aboveground. It wouldn't be long before things got wild, especially with the Selection and Partner dances approaching. Conquests were a special circumstance after all. He had planned on explaining it all before then, it might leave her shocked and abhorred otherwise; but there was something so sweet about her ignorance. But even he knew that was a lie. It wasn't sweet. It was safe. Safer for him.

He ran into Roldan well before he had any chance of finding a waiter.

"Why do you look so down? Where's Sarah? She shouldn't be away from you," he said, looking up and down and all around. Jareth rolled his eyes.

"_Tch_, I think she's proven she can converse just fine on her own. And besides, I've got constant eyes on her, no one would dare try anything."

"Not even _him_?"

Jareth stopped then, remembering that incident from earlier.

"Are you sure it was him?" Jareth asked, having ordered Roldan to look into the matter soon after it happened.

"Not one-hundred percent, but I don't see who else it would be," he said.

"A girl came next," Jareth said. Roldan's brow rose.

"Really? The same?" he asked.

"I don't know. It was gone before I could see it. If it was him, we must tread with caution. I have yet to understand his motivations," Jareth said, finally flagging down a waiter. He could just as easily have summoned one and saved time, but then again, he was pretty sure Sarah never had any intention of drinking whatever he brought back.

"And you still left her alone?" Roldan asked.

"Don't worry, I tied her to a rock and left her out of the sun, like any good pet owner would treat their dog. That's what you're really getting at right?" He turned to glare at Roldan, who was honestly taken aback.

"...No...But I can see something's happened to sour your mood," he said, keeping out of the King's way as he turned to go back to where he'd left Sarah.

"Maruna tried to have a go at Sarah," he said.

"Did she now?"

"The situation ended before anything could happen. But..."

"But?"

"I swear she makes me want to ring her neck," he said, snarling at the thought. Roldan smirked, though made sure Jareth couldn't see.

"Maybe you should," he suggested.

"I very well might," Jareth said, then stopped dead, nearly causing Roldan to trip into him. "Shit," he muttered under his breath. Roldan looked around him.

"What is it?" he asked, then his eyes found what Jareth's had.

Sarah was still leaning against the pillar, only she was laughing, or it looked that way, holding her ribs as she tried to manage the strain of her dress. Standing next to her was the one person Jareth hadn't accounted for. He must have been biding his time, waiting for the moment he knew Jareth would leave her. He was standing much too close to her, his smile much too bright. She started speaking then, her face turning away from Davion's as if she were shy. She never smiled like that for him, let alone laughed. He gripped the glass he'd intended for her tightly then thrust it into Roldan's hands.

"Goddamn it," he snarled and stalked his way to them.

* * *

"Davion? Is that really you?" Sarah said, leaning up off the pillar and stepping towards him. He smiled at her and met her half-way, his pale blonde hair falling in a perfect mess about the frame of his face. He wore a cape off one shoulder and swung it around dramatically as he fell to one knee, revealing the long braid that now fell to the ground.

"Good Evening, dear sister," he said, peering up from his bow to give her a one-sided smile. Sarah smiled in return, he was even cuter than she remembered.

"You can stand now, you know," she said, teasingly. Davion shook his head.

"Oh, but I cannot. I am before the presence of a Queen after all," he said, playfully and again lowered his head in deference. Sarah rose a brow at him.

"We're not married yet, you know," she pointed out. He reached out for her hand then and kissed it tenderly. She couldn't stop the chill that shot up her spine.

"In that case, you should consider marrying me instead," he said, something that Sarah wasn't sure how to take.

"I don't think you mean that," she said, half-recalling Mariella and her crush. She felt a little bad now, flirting with him like this.

"But I speak from the heart. Passion is the force by which I live," he said.

"Oh, I already know all about that," she said, pulling her hand away and stepping back. Sensing she wasn't going to fall for it, Davion straightened himself up and gave her a mischievous look.

"You're much too clever for the likes of him, you must know that," he said. Sarah crossed her arms and leaned back.

"I don't know about that, too clever for you maybe." She returned his lopsided smirk and held his gaze. She wasn't supposed to do that, but she wasn't on Jareth's arm anymore, and Davion was alone as well.

Davion took a step forward, grasping her hand once more and raising it to his lips.

"I've been waiting so long to see you again, to tell you how beautiful you are," he said, whispering into her skin. His eyes started to close and he inhaled her scent deeply. "And your smell is simply divine."

A red flag went off in Sarah's brain and caused her to pull her hand back.

"Um, about that. The last time we met. I just wanted to say -I'm sorry," she started, then proceeded to babble. "I made a total fool of myself. I'd completely forgotten. I'm so embarrassed now. Geez..." She found herself blushing furiously and unable to look him in the face let alone the eye. Davion's eyes widened, apparently he had forgotten as well.

"No. Stop. Please, do not say anymore," he said, clasping her hand tightly and grabbing her chin to turn her to look at him. She stiffened from such an intimate action, a recoil that he could sense and immediately backed off. "Forgive me, it is not my place to touch you so familiarly. But I just cannot stand to have you say such words to me. You should not apologize to anyone. Ever. Especially not one as despicable as me." He looked down at the ground, stepping back to give her space, though still held onto her hand tightly. "I am the one at fault. I took advantage of your ignorance. It was...crude of me to treat you with such impiety. I should have begged for your forgiveness the moment I approached you," he said, with eyes so wide and sincere they made her forget about all her anger towards Jareth.

"Um...it's okay? I'm just embarrassed, and I wanted to let you know it didn't mean what you probably thought it meant..."

"Oh no, I would never!" He interjected, reaching out to brush the back of his hand down her cheek, but had to forcefully stop himself. "Forgive me... my fondness of you exceeds that which is appropriate," he said, slowly looking down again. Sarah's brow softened. How could he possibly be related to Jareth?

"Have you found Mariella yet?" she asked, changing the subject. From the way he looked up at her, she thought maybe the shift was a bit too sudden.

"No? Why?" he asked. Sarah looked around a bit.

"I don't know...I thought you might like to see her. I'm sure she'd like to see you," she said, feeling awkward now for even bringing it up.

"Perhaps," he said, eyeing her carefully.

"I'm sorry. I just thought that maybe...you two were...a thing 'er something," she said, starting to fidget in place. Davion tilted his head as he struggled to catch on. He released her hand slowly.

"Are you trying to refer to us as an item?" he asked, so innocently.

"Well yeah. Wasn't she one of your...you know...courtesans?" Sarah asked, wincing as she did so. Davion was left oblivious to her turmoil.

"Why yes. But not anymore. She's your lady now," he said, wondering why she looked so uncomfortable. "Does our past bother you?" he asked. Sarah started shaking her head immediately.

"No. No, no, it's nothing like that. It's just that I thought...the way you both made it seem...I thought you really liked each other," she said, recalling all the conversations she'd had with Marie on the matter. Davion crossed his arms and looked around.

"We do. However, when you say like, I think what you mean is love, no?" he asked. Sarah's silence was confirmation enough. "Mariella and I have a very well functioning relationship. However, it is one that is based on a fundamental understanding. I have no intention of marrying. The women I entertain know that. I provide them with a life and a lifestyle and they in turn explore it with me. They offer me their love and I offer it back to them equally. Mariella is no different," he explained, with a kind of cold rationality that wasn't suited for such a cherubic face.

"But that's not love you're describing. That's just...fun," she said, shrugging.

"You say that as if the two are mutually exclusive," he said.

"No, they're not. But it's important to be able to tell the difference. But maybe that's just my naivety," she said, looking away. Who the hell was she to be preaching about love anyway? She was surprised to feel his index finger hooking under her chin, pulling her to look at him.

"The beauty of your somberness is more striking than that of your smile," he said, lightly brushing her lower lip with his thumb. "Perhaps that is why my brother causes you such pain...who could help themselves after getting lost in such bliss?"

Her eyes went wide on his humble smile and she felt the sudden urge to cry. She didn't know why his words resonated with her so deeply, but they did. She looked into his eyes, that sparkling hazel, and wondered how the two of them could have turned out so different. She wanted to reach out and embrace him; but she knew that even in doing so it wouldn't be Davion she was holding.

"Your brother's an ass," she blurted, fighting desperately to maintain her composure. Davion's brow rose and his smile curled as he released her chin.

"You have a lot of passion, you and him." She glared at him sharply. "I saw you two fighting earlier," he continued. Sarah scowled and looked away.

"I think you're confused. What you saw was simple frustration and anger," she said.

"Ah, are those not but broken shards of passion?" She started to look back over to him slowly. "You forget, passion is a coin composed of both love and hate. You cannot have simply one or the other. There can be no love without passion and there can be no passion without hate," he said, sounding too wise for his own good.

"And you know this because passion is the force by which you live on, yes?" She asked, sarcastically.

"Precisely."

She laughed then. She had to. This line of discussion was going to become exasperating soon.

"From the man who also says he will never marry and can't tell the difference between what is fun and what is love."

"And you do?" he asked.

"I think I have a better Idea of it than you, yes."

"No, you simply have a different idea than me, but that doesn't make it any more correct," he pointed out. Sarah pouted at the solidity of his rhetoric. "What were you two fighting about?" he asked. Sarah rose a brow and peered over.

"I actually have no idea," she said, rolling her eyes around and sighing irritably. "That Maruna lady came up to us and Jareth got all defensive and then got mad at me when I started asking about it. And then he said something about her wanting to make him her mate and stuff about contracts and dances. I don't even know. I coerced him into storming off before things could get ugly," she explained. Davion nodded along, a sly smile slowly turning.

"Stuff about contracts and dances?" he repeated, now eager to butt into the situation. Sarah however, failed to notice this shift in his demeanor.

"Yeah. Do you know what he was talking about?" she asked. Davion's smile broadened with delight. Oh, did he ever.

"Yes. I believe I know exactly what you're talking about," he said, simply reveling in the way Sarah's eyes widened with hope.

"Could you tell me? Preferably before he gets back? He's keeping something secret from me, I know it."

"Oh, you don't know the half of it."

"What?"

"Oh...it's nothing. He mentioned the dances to you? Do you know why you must perform them?" he asked. Sarah thought a moment.

"Um...now that you mention it, no. I don't know why I have to do them. I just do. Roldan said that there was a reason behind it all once, but he never got around to explaining it to me. Why? Is it really that important?" She grew concerned at the way Davion's lit up just then. It reminded her of Jareth. That was never a good thing.

"Oh my, it's the entire point!" he said, then moved to stand closer to her. Apparently, this conversation was to be hush hush. "But first, why don't you tell me everything you think you know."

"Okay. Well...I know these dances are held at every major social gathering. I know from the dances themselves that they're almost like a play. It seems like from one to the next is the progression of being chased, hunted even. Which I guess makes sense given the circumstances. I kinda figured it was just symbolic of Jareth capturing me. And then, I guess I just learned that you can form sexual contracts among Court? You're not allowed to have inter-marriages but you can pimp yourself out to whomever? That's basically it. There are a lot of pieces I still can't put together. And I don't see how those two things are connected," she rambled, waving her hands around as talked, subconsciously emphasizing her exasperation on the matter. Davion nodded along until she was finished, then sought to fill in the blanks.

"Well, you're not far off on a lot of things, I can say that. For putting things together on your own, good job," he said, folding his arms against his chest as he pressed up against the pillar.

"Yeah?"

"Mhm. However, there's still a lot more going on than you realize."

"Yeah, I figured that."

"You sure you want me to tell you?" he asked.

"Hell yeah, why wouldn't I?"

"Just checking..." Jareth was sure to throw a fit when he found out Davion was about to spoil his sweet little fantasy. But at least now he could blame it on her. He peered around to make sure he still had ample time. "I'll start with a brief history lesson. You might not think so now, but in the beginning Fae weren't the proud powerful beings we are today." He looked down to Sarah, who was already staring up at him with a look that said bullshit. "It's hard to believe, I know," he said sardonically, then carried on. "There were few of us, more of a tribe than an actual race. Our one advantage was the ability to travel between worlds. Perhaps it was our long life spans, perhaps it was something else, but for some reason we've always been a rather infertile species. In the effort to correct this, the Fae would go out and experiment, crossbreeding with varying species, finding combinations that would prove most fruitful. But even so, that was to be a long process of evolution and the species was a little more desperate for stability back then. In the effort to flourish and create a stable population, things like polygamy and incest were unanimously encouraged."

"But didn't that result in defects? I mean...eons of inbreeding?"

"It would seem only beings in your world suffer such things," he said, which was explanation enough for her. "Ritual dances were created, where the ceremonial act of selecting a partner for copulation was embraced." He paused then, allowing the information to sink in. Sarah was quiet for a moment, then it clicked.

"Wait...so you mean these dances...it's a mating ritual?!" Her chest puffed up as she looked back over the crowd, suddenly seeing them in a much different light.

"The Introduction, meant to serve as a means of scoping out all possible candidates in a timely fashion." So that was why she was supposed to look at everybody but her own partner. "The Barrage, an excuse to experience each other's energy and taste of their pheromones. The Selection, where one is to make their decision and the Partner-"

"When the claim is made," Sarah said for him, cryptically, despondently.

"Exactly."

"So...for everyone else...this is just foreplay for an orgy pretty much? But that's why I have to stay partnered with Jareth, because we're getting married." She said this with surety, but Davion was already shaking his head.

"Not exactly," he said. She looked back up to him. "Yes, that is part of it, but not all of it. The main reason is because you are not yet eligible to partake in the true ritual. Under normal circumstances, many if not most of the people out there would be exempt as well." This confused her and her expression showed it.

"I don't understand."

"You wouldn't. And that's probably because Jareth has done a marvelous job of keeping this whole thing secret from you. Though, I cannot say I blame him."

"So...what's the criteria? For taking part in the dances under normal circumstances?"

"Children."

"Huh?"

"You have to have children," he said, as if that made sense all by itself.

"What does that have to do with anything?" she asked. Davion sighed and recrossed his arms.

"After a while, once the Fae race had grown to dominate this world, kingdoms were established. Long before the time of Orpus. People were more concerned with things like property lines, rights of ownership and familial alliances. Procreation was still important, but had become secondary to social and economic growth. That was when things like marriage were first instituted, and with it the issue of inheritance and the development of _the family name_. Quite similar to the progression of your own cultural system, authority was marked by heritage. This obviously conflicted with a system that encouraged free range copulation. The system of old was revoked and instead the dances served as a more personal ritual between husband and wife. The Fae simply didn't know what to do with bastards. However that system failed quickly."

"Oh?"

"Yes. The Fae are known for their rather insatiable appetites and the need to produce offspring was still a strong basic instinct. At some point, it was propositioned that what mattered was not the fruit of man and woman, but simply of woman. As I'm sure you've learned, women have long been worshipped in our culture as the personification as Mother Earth herself. It was thought that if a child possessed the blood of its mother and its mother possessed the name of a lineage then that child did also. The rights of men became irrelevant. We were seen as little more than studs, protectors of our wives and the children they had. The old system was reinstated, being a rite of passage for newly married couples."

"Whoa. Wait. You're telling me people were okay with that? No one got jealous or resentful? You're telling me the MEN were okay with their wives sleeping around having other men's children?"

"When you put it like that, I won't say it wasn't flawed. However, they were not viewed as other men's children. They belonged to the mother and the mother belonged to her husband. But even so, the ritual is not forced. It is by choice," he explained, which helped her to settle down only slightly.

"I just...can't wrap my head around that," she said, shaking her head as she thought it all over.

"Oh, but I haven't even gotten to the good part."

"What? There's more?"

"Oh, there's always more," Davion said, with a sweet delectable smile. "The system functioned like this for quite some time, but eventually people grew tired of it. We were evolving in numerous ways, our perceptions modernizing like any other civilization. They began to focus more of their attention on the present rather than the future. The people wanted children, but what they wanted more, what they wanted now, was entertainment. They wanted to experience the pleasure of it all without committing a blatant sacrilege against a fundamental part of our society. And I'm sure you can see the complications this caused during the time of Orpus and his death. The lineage of Kings and Queens was meant to be absolute, yet there were more contentions over varying views of legitimacy and bastardization than the legal system could keep up with. One of the final things Orpus did under his rule was instate a clause clarifying and restricting the ritual. It was limited to married couples, but more than that, women were not allowed to partake until the birth of their first child, guaranteeing their husband at least one irrefutably authentic heir. From then on, she would be free to take as many mates as she desired with the outward intention of procuring more offspring. Initially this was used out of necessity. If a woman found conception with her own husband difficult, she would seek out a mate that was more compatible. However, as you can well guess, people have a way of taking advantage of even the most minor flaw, until this once revered ceremony was reduced to the bastardization you're currently a part of."

"Oh my God. That's...disgusting. Are people really so horny that they're willing to find any excuse to cheat on their spouses?"

"No. This is different. Affairs are still considered a highly punishable crime. As Jareth must have put it, it's a contract, not a relationship." Sarah thought about this for a moment, all sorts of puzzle pieces falling into place.

"Oh...OH. So that's what Maruna was getting at? She wanted to see if I would stud him out for her?" _She would need my permission after all...and she has a young son that would make her eligible_. "But, she had to have propositioned him a while ago, when he was definitely still single. Isn't that against the rules?"

"Yes well, I never said people followed them."

"That's awful. So what you're saying is that there is a definite possibility that everyone in this room is closely related?"

Davion peered around. Sarah seemed to be appalled by this news, while Davion found it kind of funny.

"Unless it is someone who keeps a close tab on the spread of their genealogy, then yes," he said, using every opportunity to inch closer and closer now that her attention was far too distracted to stop him._Keeping a close tab...Like the Meyhanvians... _It was then that a thought suddenly sprang through. She turned to look at him and found him much closer than expected.

"Do you know if you and Jareth are-" and then her eyes widened. "Oh, oh I'm so sorry that was beyond rude of me..." she said, turning away from him to stare at the ground.

"No need. My mother never took a mate. Both Jareth and I are one-hundred percent our father's children. Not that it would matter anyway. Your society is patriarchal in a sense. Your women usually take the name of the male, no? Here it is the other way around. We were birthed by our mother, who was the Queen of the Goblin Kingdom. That alone makes us, irrefutably, princes."

"I see...I mean, I guess that all makes sense...it's just so weird."

"Hey. Don't knock it till you try it."

She turned and shot him a glare.

"Don't even joke about that," she said, with total seriousness. Davion gave her a suggestive smile.

"Why? Are you worried what type of reaction Jareth might have?"

"Of course I am! You know how possessive he is. I can't even imagine..." She shied away from him again, her face going pale at her own hypothetical thoughts.

"Why do you think he's been keeping it such a secret from you? This is your right as a woman of the Underground. Once you've conceived your first child together, there's nothing stopping you from living your life as you see fit. With or without him. You could abandon him, parade around a string of suitors, taunting him with the knowledge that it is they who love you and not him. I feel that might be his biggest fear of all." Just the thought of Sarah tormenting his brother like that filled him with excitement. Oh, how fun it would be to see him suffer so.

"No. No, I would never do that," Sarah said, shaking her head and scowling intently. Davion leaned in a little further...

"Really? How can you sound so sure? Aren't you looking for ways to get back at him? He did take you against your will after all, and now he's parading you around like this. Why not take advantage of the opportunity he's given you. What better way than to-"

"No!" Sarah interrupted, not even realizing the steady encroachment of his fingers towards the nape of her neck. "I don't care what becomes of me and Jareth, I would never debase myself like that just to get back at him. I have more self-respect than that."

There was such vitality in her eyes, it sparkled brighter than the vats of fire raging behind her. It was lovely. It was...invigorating.

"And what if you fall in love? What will you do then?" he asked, narrowing his eyes to something dangerous.

"I will live my life according to my own morals. Never someone else's. If Jareth's that worried about what I'll do after our first child, maybe that's incentive enough not to have any for a while," she said, the thought of children having not really hit her yet.

"Oh, don't let him hear you say that," Davion chided. Sarah furrowed her brow.

"Why? Does he want children?" she asked, still not grasping the gravity of this topic.

"He certainly wants something..." Davion said, his teeth suddenly sharper as he smiled down at her. He was very close now, much too close. She could smell the musk of his leather lapels and the sweet natural aroma of his hair. And suddenly, things started to slow down. Was there a reason why he was looking at her like that all of the sudden? Or had she been missing something all along?

"I have a feeling you're not as sweet as you appear to be," she finally said, firm resolution in her eyes. Davion blinked slowly, tilting his head to the side. The flickering light from the fire behind her cast dancing shadows and harsh rays of light across his face, and for some reason she felt like she was seeing a more natural side of him. He was Jareth's brother. Jareth could be cruel and he could be sweet, he could be cool and he could be manipulative. He was manipulative. And this was his brother. One-hundred percent his brother.

Davion's smile curled, thoroughly captivated by the resolve in Sarah's voice. His eyes flickered, to her mouth and back again.

"I knew you were clever..." he whispered, his voice a deadly drawl as he leaned in, his index finger hitching under her jaw, and kissed her square on the mouth. He lingered for several seconds. When he pulled away, his eyes and Jareth's were one in the same. "I cannot wait for you to become my sister," he said and eased back from her. Sarah stared up at him in complete amazement. What the? Did that really just happen? Everything she'd once seen in Davion shattered utterly into a million little pieces. She saw him clearly now. He was no better than his brother. He didn't care about her. He just wanted to fuck around, to fuck with Jareth. He saw this change come over her, saw her wide eyes harden into something deadly, and he had to admit it was most unexpected.

Without a second to react, Sarah found her hand winding back about to smack him clear across the face. She was about to let go with everything she had when a firm grip took hold of her wrist. She looked up to find Jareth standing beside her and he did not look pleased. Not at all.

  



	100. Redboned, part 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While unbeknown to her, Sarah has succeeded in obtaining the one thing the Goblin King has desired for hundreds of years -power over the Labyrinth. After being hidden for years from his diabolical wrath, Sarah finds herself alone and vulnerable as Jareth's dark desires are finally aloud to rear their ugly heads. As always, the only question is, are things really as they seem?

"Jareth, I-"

"Shut up," he snapped and tossed her arm aside. She took a step back, his attention focused solely on Davion. "I suppose you think yourself quite amusing, don't you?" he asked, the volatility in his voice searingly palpable. Sarah started knotting her fingers at her sides. Her body was going stiff. Davion shrugged and rolled his eyes.

"I find I am quite self-assured, yes," he said, waving an obnoxious hand through the air. "You look angry, Jareth. Did some wayward dancers step on your foot?" he asked, mockingly. Sarah's brow twisted. It was like he was a completely different person.

"I hope you realize the consequences of your actions," Jareth warned.

"Consequences of what? Giving my sister-in-law a loving and completely platonic peck on the lips? Oh, I think you were right Sarah. Look how possessive he's getting," he said, jokingly rolling his eyes in Jareth's direction. Sarah continued to stare at him, finding it hard to take action. What the?

"Did you really think you were going to get off with anything less than a hundred lashings? Or are you just a glutton for punishment?" Jareth asked. Davion took a step back and started shaking his finger.

"Punishment? You should be thanking me! I've taught you a very important lesson here, haven't I? At the most minimal cost to you," he said. Jareth narrowed his eyes. "You shouldn't have left her alone Jareth. Such bad judgement on your part. How could I not show you the error of your ways? What if it had been someone else? Someone who didn't care for her well-being as I do? Imagine what could have happened to her then. You should be thanking me for kissing your woman," he said, then turned as if to leave then and there.

"Stop," Jareth barked. If anyone doubted he meant business, they didn't now. Sarah stared at him, wondering why the hell she couldn't react to anything. As commanded, Davion stopped and turned on a dime, fluttering his eyes at Jareth expectantly. "You went around the ward I placed on her," he said. Davion nodded several times.

"Yes...yes I did. We grew up together. We're family, you and I. I know all of your little secrets. Every. Last. One." He made little tallies in the air as he spoke. Sarah could feel the tension in Jareth about to boil over, causing her to wonder what other secrets he was keeping from her.

"I suppose that makes you the most dangerous guest of all. What irony," he said, testing him. Davion looked up as he thought.

"Yes. Yes it does," he said, then turned and began walking away. He stopped however as he passed by the two of them. "Oh, don't look so surprised. Has irony not always been your greatest downfall?" he said, then his eyes focused on Sarah. "Thank you for the company, Sarah. I do hope you'll save a dance for me later on. I'd like to apologize to you properly once you're back in your right state of mind," he said then carried on his merry way. Sarah looked on after him, wanting desperately to shout at him, but nothing came. She was starting to get scared. It was like she was being slowly trapped in her own body. She looked to Jareth, unable to hide the worry in her eyes.

He stared at her coldly for a moment, then reached up and pulled something out of her hair from behind her ear.

It was a flower, a small white flower. Sarah narrowed her eyes on it, confused, but that was all she could do. She watched him crush it between his fingers, and only a few seconds later did she feel her body loosening up again.

"Wha...What was that? What just happened to me?" She struggled to say. She started looking around, clenching and relaxing her hands. They felt numb. Was this a dream? She looked back up to Jareth and saw there was disappointment in his eyes. "Jareth I -I'm sorry I didn't mean it, I swear!" she began to ramble, shaking her head and speaking in a panic. He had been so angry when he'd first arrived. She didn't know how to react to what just happened. "Jareth, really, I swear. I was just caught off guard. I didn't- Jareth please say something. Are you mad? I don't-"

She was cut off by the movement of his hand pressing down on the top of her head and his face settling at the crown of her forehead. He closed his eyes and sighed.

"Jareth?" she asked, warily. He shook his head and moved so the their foreheads were touching.

"You're such a fool," he whispered, taking a deep breath. He pulled away and looked down at her with a hooded gaze. "You have no idea what happened, do you?" he asked. She shook her head no, her eyes wide with bewilderment. "Because Davion and I were taught together we understand each other's magic. Thus, he was able to sneak past part of the protection ward I placed on you." Sarah thought back as he spoke, and recalled noticing his hand by her neck. She thought he was trying to stroke her or play with her hair. Did he really put a spell on her instead? "That flower-" She brought her attention back to Jareth when he continued. "It has a type of numbing effect, almost like a drug. The longer one is exposed to it the less control they have over their body. It was already taking effect by the time he kissed you," he explained. Sarah's eyes went wide. She remembered feeling like things were moving in slow motion. Like she wanted to turn away but simply didn't, or couldn't. However, she thought that was her own fault. Could she really blame it on a flower?

"So...are you mad at me?" she asked, ready to receive the lashings he'd just promised Davion.

He touched her chin with his hand, in much the same way Davion just had. His look on her was deeply somber.

"No. He was right, after all."

Now that was surprising.

"What?" she asked.

"He was teaching me a lesson, that I should not take my own skills for granted. I was so concerned about threats from the outside, I failed to consider any threats on the inside. Davion was making a point to me about remaining vigilant. It may be hard, but you should not take it personally." Sarah's brow just kept on twisting.

"I don't get it. He seemed...so different just now."

"I told you not to trust him. You think that just because someone is nice to you and offers you smiles that they are good. But they are not. If you have ever wished to know the reason I show you my darkest sides, it is so I can say that regardless of it all, you knew me honestly. I value that more than the pathetic phantasm he just ripped you from," he said and turned to head back into the party. "Come, the effects should be fully faded by now. Davion has given me his two cents, he won't bother us for the rest of the night. Although, he will be expecting his dance."

"What? No way. You're seriously okay with that? It's going to be hard not slapping him across the face the next time I see him," she said, outraged that he was so okay with his brother using her as an example, manipulating her like that. Jareth paused and stared at the ground for a moment. As much as he wanted to be angry with Davion, deep down he understood his intentions completely. He was reminding him not to get too comfortable in this life with Sarah, for as long as there were threats on the inside, threats that she trusted, threats like Liana, there could never be a true life with her. As annoying and unnecessary as it was, he believed his brother was honestly trying to help him, in his own perverse way. But he would have a hard time explaining that to Sarah.

"I know...you were under the full effect of the flower when I arrived and yet you still had the willpower to wind back your arm. You truly must have been outraged," he said, and she caught the faint hint of a smile on his lips. "I derive enough happiness from that alone to make up for the entirety of Davion's _setback_."

"Jareth..."

She stared at him, rim-lit from the fires behind him, dark and yet glowing. She thought about the things Davion had said: _You could abandon him, parade around a string of suitors, taunting him with the knowledge that it is they who love you and not him. I feel that might be his biggest fear of all. _His biggest fear? Fear that she would turn away from him...As she stared at him now, she thought that maybe there was something more to it than selfishness and possessiveness. Could he care about her in a way that was meant for her and not himself? Could he be aware of that distinction? More pertinently, was Davion? She was more confused now more than anything. Was Davion a friend or foe? Was he using her to get a rise out of Jareth? Or in some backhanded effort, was he actually helping him? She couldn't figure it out and this was definitely not the place to do so.

"Davion told me. About the dances I mean," she said, needing to clear the air of this now rather than later. Jareth turned back to offer her a hand.

"I know. Somebody had to," he said, squeezing gently when she accepted his offer.

"You should have just told me from the beginning. Does it really bother you that much?" she asked, eyeing him as they walked back to the dance hall. From the look on his face, she could tell that it did, but it was more than that. He looked hurt just thinking about it. Her turning away would_ hurt _him. He'd told her once that she'd have to go to great lengths to make him jealous. She didn't know what that meant back then.

"Does it matter if it does?" he asked.

"What matters is that you care."

* * *

A quiet tension separated them once they rejoined the festivities. It wasn't awkward, it wasn't cautious; it was anxious. To Sarah, it felt as if there was far more left to be said. A lot of things had happened that night already and it was only half over.

The gap between the Barrage and Selection dances was significantly longer than the others, and during said time, the two were approached by both Garon of Erastor as well as Jaevonne, the Queen of the Isles of Masoch. Sarah was thankful that those two had significantly more pleasant demeanors than the monarchs previous, which had allowed her to breeze through the next hour or so.

She watched Jareth closely, feeling somewhat relieved when he seemed to relax little by little. They were both putting on a front, but from the way he would smile or casually glance at her from the corner of his eye, she could tell it was becoming more sincere. She also kept a tab on the number of drinks he was having, and that may have had something to do with it.

She was zoning out when the group of lords they had been conversing with took their leave.

"Take this."

She looked up and saw Jareth offering her a drink. She shook her head and raised a hand.

"No, I'm fine," she said. Jareth didn't budge.

"I said take it," he repeated. Sarah shot him an eye but wordlessly took it from his hands. "Now drink it."

"I told you before, I want to stay level-headed. I don't want to risk getting distracted and letting something through."

"Keeping your cards close at hand?"

"Exactly."

"Drink it."

She turned to glare at him.

"Stop being a bully. I don't want alcohol." Jareth continued to stare down at her, even as she looked away.

"You may not want it, but you need it," he said.

"I think you've had enough for the both of us. What's that, your tenth one in the past hour?" She'd picked that number arbitrarily. It was probably much higher than that.

"You're going to dance with me soon and I want you to be able to enjoy it," he said, suddenly dejected. Sarah scoffed at him.

"Because I can only enjoy it if I'm drunk? _Pff_, you said it, not me," she said, taking a sip just for the hell of it.

"The Selection is when one is meant to...express themselves. It would be odd for you to remain as closed off as you've been," he explained. Sarah was quiet. She didn't really want to talk about this here.

"And what if my _expression_ isn't what you want it to be?" she asked.

"That question is naught," he said. She looked up to him. "I already know what you keep locked up inside. You showed me some of it last night." He spoke so candidly, his expression completely neutral. It contrasted perfectly with the intense red blush that swarmed Sarah's face.

"Can you not?" she asked, looking into her glass as she took a long swig. She was still having a hard time getting over the fact that she'd just kissed his brother and he had to go and bring up last night too?

"I cannot wait to see you like that again," he murmured, secretly reveling in the embarrassment it caused her. "The smell of your skin...glistening wet as it touches mine..." A shiver ran up his spine and he shook from it. Sarah tried desperately not to run away.

"I'm stressed enough. Could you please not try to unravel my nerves?" she asked, knowing he was doing it just to fuck with her.

"Good to know I have such an effect on you."

"Oh please, as if you ever questioned it to begin with," she said, jutting her hip out as she glared at nothing. "You molested me on the floor in the middle of the throne room the night I came here."

"You say that as if you weren't completely riveted."

"You're only proving my point. Scared out of my mind is more like it. You're absolutely insane."

He peered over her as she shook her head with irritation. Her level of acceptance of that time astounded him. When once she would scream and claw at him, she now stood as if it were nothing more than a childish squabble.

"It both comforts...and worries me...that we can speak about this so calmly now," he said, still observing her. Sarah huffed and rolled her eyes, apparently not as contented as one might think.

"I'm not going to make excuses for you. But neither do I feel like rehashing old demons. I made it perfectly clear what you put me through, and I'd like to think that after everything that's happened recently, you may actually be sorry about it. I may not ever forgive you, but at some point we're going to have to move on."

As cold as that sounded, it actually made Jareth very happy. She was giving him a chance to make up for those...regrettable moments. He thought to tell her then how right he had been, how much sheer sexual frustration had been jading her, but he did not. He would not dare spoil this. He reached out and toyed with the curl that fell down her back.

They were quiet after that, Jareth content, Sarah scanning the room for the next conversationalist. There were two seats left, Faris and Bezaleel. Her eyes scanned the crowd viciously for those faces when they landed on something else instead.

She saw Marie, giggling and smiling like it hurt. When her eyes moved to the person she was laughing with, she felt the aggravation sink down all over again.

"There's Davion," she said, earning Jareth's attention. As it would seem, he was taking up Sarah's advice of going to talk to her. The exchange looked so fake to her now. She wondered if Mariella knew what Davion was really like, but what worried her was the thought that she really did. "Do I really have to dance with him?" She turned back to Jareth with plead in her eyes. He looked down at her, half-tempted to take those pouting lips of hers then and there.

"You don't have to do anything with him, but that might not stop him from doing something with you," he said, still feeling playful. He couldn't help it, seeing her actually acting on his side for once. He would never admit it, but a part of him was glad for Davion's prank. Yes, Davion had used her, but by doing so had turned her back towards himself. He wondered then, if that was his intention all along.

"I figured you'd be more angry about this," Sarah said, noticing the ghost of a smile on his face. She wondered if the booze was finally hitting him.

"I've told you numerous times, it will take a lot more than that to make me jealous Sarah. He stole one kiss. The gods know I've had far more sensitive parts of my body in your mouth," he said, his lips twisting deliciously. Sarah's eyes widened in disgust.

"Oh my God. You need to stop it," she said, glaring away from him to conceal her rosy cheeks. Jareth snickered, looking back out over the crowd.

"May I get you another drink, Majesty?" a waiter offered, spying Jareth's empty class as it passed by. Jareth accepted without a word. Sarah just shook her head.

"Excuse me, but might your name be Sarah?"

Sarah looked up from the glare she was giving her drink. There was a man standing before them. She stared at him for a moment, more than a little caught off guard.

He was tall. Had to have been about seven feet, at least. And he was big. Dressed in all black, he wore heavily plated armor and a cape, torn and frazzled at the ends. He skin was an odd grey color, perfectly smooth. He had a handsome face, but it was disrupted by the pure whiteness of his eyes, leaving only the blackness of his pupils and the fuzzy grey ring that formed the contour of his irises. His hair was black, shaved on one side and falling long on the other. Sarah gaped, openly, holding onto her drink a little tighter.

"Um, yes?" she said, warily. He smiled then, and she recoiled slightly at the sight of his sharpened teeth.

"You're much lovelier than rumors give you credit for," he said. Sarah turned her head slightly. There was something odd about this man, more than just his appearance.

"Thank you?" she said.

"Are you the one who's marrying this man?" he asked, his eyes briefly indicating Jareth.

"To my knowledge, yes," she confirmed. The man looked down, pondering for a moment.

"Are you sure you want to do that?" he asked. Sarah was quiet, staring at him intently. Going against the rules, he held her gaze purposefully, but she knew better than to break that contact. This man was more dangerous than a broken rule.

"As sure as any bride of conquest can be," she said, avoiding having to lie as well as speak the truth. She smiled then, broadly. "However, I believe you've already asked me all of this, twice now, Lord Bezaleel."

The man too smiled wide, his pale eyes lighting up with delight. Sarah held her smile but was actually quite wary. Roldan had told her much about the sovereign of the Shadowlands. However, all the things he told her had to do with the fact that no one knew anything about him. He was relatively new to Court, the ways of he and his people still unknown. He was mysterious and dangerous even by their standards. No one knew what he wanted or why he made the decisions he did. All Roldan could really say was to keep it simple and keep it short. She didn't want to risk offending him, but even worse, she didn't want to risk him taking an interest.

She felt Jareth's hand on her hip, tugging her close to his side. She peered up, knowing exactly what his expression conveyed. Bezaleel stepped forward, breaking all social codes of conduct by reaching out and cupping her cheeks. He brought his face close, and she wondered whether or not Jareth was going to do anything about it.

"Aren't you positively saccharine," he said, his tongue flicking out to graze along his teeth. He leaned in a little further and sniffed her cheek. "She smells of ruse," he said, then backed away. Sarah stared at him oddly. _What is ruse?_ She wondered. Her eyes tried to follow him as he began to pace around her, her eyes going wide when he reached out and placed his arms over Jareth's shoulders in an overly-familiar gesture. He leaned around him suggestively, leaving Sarah aghast when the face that emerged from the other side was that of a woman. Bezaleel's arms seemed to slither from Jareth's shoulders, his fingers, as Sarah now noticed, thin and lithe as they twirled a lock of his hair. He smiled, his face much thinner and angular, thick lashes fluttering. She, he, it, turned and whispered seductively in Jareth's ear, "Delusive."

Releasing Jareth, the Shadow King returned to stand before them.

Sarah...didn't even know where to start. Her mouth opened, but nothing even close to words came.

"Um..excuse me?" Sarah said, staring at the shapeshifter's back as she languidly made her way towards facing them. She turned, and Sarah was shocked yet again when met with the face of an adolescent boy. Somehow, somewhere along the line, this person had managed to seamlessly transform from a seven-foot-tall mongoloid, to a willowy goddess, and now a scrawny boy barely taller than her. She blinked repeatedly. Wha? How?

"Do you know why the roses die?" he asked. Sarah flinched back. _What? What roses? The decorations?_ She could sense Jareth tense beside her.

"Ah, no?" she responded. The strange man twirled on his heel, just like the little girl had done earlier.

"They die for you," he said, reaching into his coat and pulling out a long stemmed golden rose, then offered it to her. She took it tentatively, being careful not to let her fingers be pricked by its thorns. He stood stiffly then, his eyes darting back and forth between the two, a grin steadily curling. "Would you like to know a secret?" he asked, seemingly to the both of them. He leaned in, wedging his face in the space between theirs. Sarah flinched. Jareth did not. "I'm delusive too," he snickered and backed away. "Would you like to meet me sister?" he asked, twirling and waving his cape high and like a magic trick revealed a young girl in its wake. He spun one more time and then wrapped his arms tightly around her shoulders. He'd changed his appearance again. He was younger now. They both looked no older than fourteen. "She likes you. I can tell," he said, gazing down at the girl with tenderness. He pressed his face into her hair and inhaled deeply. "We're getting married as well," he then said.

"Congratulations," Sarah piped up, nervous and more creeped out than she had ever been. Jareth held onto her tightly, but she still reached up and gripped the back of his jacket for support.. Bezaleel peered up, his nose still lost in the girl's hair.

"Thank you," he said, then straightened himself up. "Jarrrreethhh. You're being awfully quiet," he said, obnoxiously. Sarah kept staring at the girl. She looked like a doll, completely devoid of life. She stood there silently, staring out at nothing.

"I did not want to risk interrupting you," Jareth said, which shocked Sarah enough for her to dart her head up to him. Roldan had warned her that Bezaleel did not believe in following the conventions of Court, that he often manipulated people by breaking the rules of conduct. Maybe that's why Jareth was as well. Maybe they just didn't matter at this point.

"Liar," he said, wrapping a possessive arm around the girl's shoulders. From how natural his mannerisms became, Sarah suspected this to be his true form. Roldan had tricked her with the study guide. None of those pictures were him because no one could be sure what he really looked like. He was a shapeshifter, something very rare in this world. There were spells of transformation, but never had a being evolved a skill so acute and so exceptional as Bezaleel's. No wonder they were so wary of him. "You should be like your woman. Rather than lie, simply find ways of avoiding the truth."

"Is that not in itself a form of lying?" Jareth asked. Bezaleel's grin curled on one side.

"Is it?" he asked, daringly. When Jareth didn't answer, Bezaleel stepped forward, tilting his head at Sarah before suddenly embracing her. Sarah gasped but didn't fight it, knowing that Jareth would have torn her from his grasp immediately if it wasn't safe. If his aim was to unnerve her, he was doing a good job of it. In this form, he was shorter than her now, and he took advantage of such things by resting his head comfortably atop her bosom. "I like you," he said, his eyes darting around as if he were listening for something. "There is power in you," he said. Jareth noticeably twitched then. How Bezaleel could sense Liana's presence within Sarah, he had no idea. This could be bad. "I like women with power," he went on, pulling back to look up into her eyes, though keeping his arms wrapped firmly around her. "Do not give it to him. Or I will not like you any more," he said. He let go of her then and moved over to Jareth. "I sometimes wonder what it would be like to have a friend. Would it be nice, Jareth?" he asked, the hidden meaning of his question heavily emphasized. Jareth held his gaze, analyzing it closely.

"Yes, it would," he replied. Bezaleel smiled and grasped the lapels of Jareth's coat with both hands.

"Then friends we shall be," he said with a smile, then released him and stepped back to join his sister. "I'll be going now," he said, wrapping an arm around his sister and turning her away. He peered back as they walked away, his eyes locking onto Jareth's. "Good luck," he said, playfully then continued on out of sight.

Jareth stood silent for a moment, fiercely contemplating his immediate course of action. He dissected Bezaleel's actions, trying to discern his intentions as quickly as possible. Whether or not he knew who what Liana was, he could definitely sense a power within Sarah and it seemed he also knew Jareth was aiming to extract it. He should be worried. He should be panicking actually. But the way he had left things was odd. He had said they were friends and then wished him luck. Was he simply going to do nothing? What was his angle? As of right now, there was no indication that Bezaleel would interfere. It was clear he was a vastly powerful being already, the depth of his mystery was truly terrifying. He also said he liked Sarah, which might mean he wanted to see things through to the end. Ugh, Gods, this was just awful. Though, whatever disaster Bezaleel might bring, he was fairly confident it would not be tonight.

"Jareth?" Sarah asked, deeply worried by the look on his face. That had to have been the weirdest encounter yet, one that left them both deeply affected, and that was saying something.

"I need a drink," he finally said, closing his eyes and shaking his head. "A big one."

* * *

The next dance began soon after that, but at this point keeping in time with those steps was the least of her concerns. Everything went as expected, all the while she kept an eye out for Bezaleel as well as Davion. Some of these people were so out-there, and here she thought Jareth was insane. After the dance, they were soon met by the final council seat, Faris of Ironmey. Roldan and Mariella had rejoined them as well, so the four stood off to the side as preparation for the fourth and final dance began to fester amongst the crowd.

"I saw Bezaleel with you earlier. I hope it went better than it looked. I could hear the women next to me offering Sarah their sympathies," Roldan said, his fingers tapping restlessly against his glass.

"I wouldn't worry about it. I think he was poking fun more than anything. He has a strange way about him, that one," Jareth said, greatly underplaying the significance of their discussion.

"You can say that again. He said I had power inside of me and was listening to my chest as if he could hear it ticking," Sarah said. Jareth peered over, not expecting her to join the conversation. She was standing with Mariella a few feet away, yielding as the nymph fiddled and situated her hair.

"I don't believe it was meant to be taken literally," Roldan said, which helped to ease the spike in Jareth's anxiety.

"He was probably referring to that iron-clad will of yours," Jareth continued. Sarah hummed into her glass, the _second_ one of the night. Jareth smiled as he watched her, then found he had to lean back against a pillar. Maybe the wine was starting to hit him after all.

"Faris was nice though," she said, looking up aimlessly over the crowd.

"Really? I hear he's actually quite cynical," Mariella said.

"We're in negotiations over trading rights. He's probably on good behavior until something goes through," Jareth explained, his hand absently fiddling with the beads on the back of Sarah's bodice. She suppressed the tiny shiver it brought her. He peered up, his eyes happening to land on Mariella. "Sarah, why don't you and Roldan have a dance?" he said. Sarah whipped her head back to him.

"What?"

Roldan may have been offended by the tone of her voice were he not feeling the exact same thing. Jareth remained unfazed.

"I think you heard me quite clearly."

"But-"

"I don't think that's really necessary" Roldan interrupted. Sarah glanced back at him.

"He's right. We've danced plenty of times."

"So what better way to celebrate all your hard work than by a real dance?" Jareth asked. Sarah gaped. "I presume he taught you a simple waltz?" Sarah just stared at him.

"But what about all that stuff with Davion? About being vigilant? I thought you weren't supposed to leave me alone, regardless of the fact that you're drunk," she said. Roldan stared at her, wondering what she was talking about. Had something happened with Davion?

"Firstly, my soberness has nothing to do with it. Second, you're not alone, you'll be with Roldan and I'll be watching you. Lastly, as Davion proved, he is the only one able to undermine parts of my magic. The vigilance of which you speak was not aimed at them, it was meant for...someone else." Oh, he almost let something slip just then. Maybe he wasn't as sober as he thought. "Unless you'd prefer a dance with me?" he ended with. She opened her mouth then, but before she could make her rebuttal, was cut off by Roldan's heavy sigh.

"Fine. This is getting to be unnecessary. No need to make a scene out of it. Shall we?" He said, staring at Sarah impatiently as he offered out a hand. She frowned slightly as she accepted, staring back at Jareth worriedly. It wasn't that she had to dance with Roldan, but how surprised she was by the desire to dance with Jareth.

They entered the dance floor without a word. Like clockwork, their hands went into place and they began to move along with the song. Roldan stared straight ahead. Sarah at the floor. _Why on Earth would Jareth do this?_ she wondered. _He must be drunk. Gotta be._

* * *

Jareth stood against the pillar, using it for balance as he watched Sarah and Roldan awkwardly move through the crowd. Mariella stood quietly beside him, her head now lowered and her hands clasped in front of her. He peered down to her, his expression hardening.

"Would you like something to drink?" he asked. Startled, Marie quickly shook her head.

"Oh, no. No thank you, Your Majesty. I simply couldn't," she said. Jareth shrugged and downed the rest of his own drink.

"You're as boring as the rest of them," he mumbled. Mariella turned, but knew better than to say anything. "I suppose that's why he chose you to spy on me. You're not interesting enough to suspect," he said. Mariella froze, now realizing the reason he sent Sarah and Roldan away. "Not like Davion, you've definitely pegged him as being full of interest, haven't you?"

"Pardon?"

"All those sweet nothings you've been filling Sarah's head with about your beloved Davion. He is so sweet, so charming, so good. Though, I suppose you leave out the details that fall in between," Jareth said. Mariella began to recoil and looked down to the floor.

"I cherish My Lord Davion...Although...I will not deny that there are times when he is not always what he seems," she admitted, shamefully.

"You know of his interest in her?" he asked.

"...Yes. Though it is not my place to question, I do believe his real interest is in you, Majesty."

Jareth re-shifted against the pillar. His head was getting fuzzy.

"And what interest is that?" he asked, curious to see how much she knew.

"That I do not know. The prince has his games, toys that capture his interest. Sarah has captured My Lord's attention, not merely because she is something new, but because she has brought something new along with her."

"And what is that?" Jareth asked. Mariella gave in to look up at him.

"Love."


	101. Redboned, part 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While unbeknown to her, Sarah has succeeded in obtaining the one thing the Goblin King has desired for hundreds of years -power over the Labyrinth. After being hidden for years from his diabolical wrath, Sarah finds herself alone and vulnerable as Jareth's dark desires are finally aloud to rear their ugly heads. As always, the only question is, are things really as they seem?

"So...this is awkward," Sarah said, not sure if it was more or less weird not looking at him. Roldan huffed then spun her around.

"We've done this dozens of times before. What makes now any different?" he said. Sarah shrugged, looking around as if the answer were out in the crowd.

"I don't know...I'm wearing this ridiculous dress?"

He smirked, but not at her.

"Ridiculous is a very poor choice of words. Your dress is very apt for the occasion," he said Sarah's expression brightened.

"Oh my, Roldan, that wasn't half-way to being a compliment, was it?" she asked, teasingly. Roldan gave her a very impatient eye.

"Are you enjoying yourself?" he asked, though she could tell he was referring to the night as a whole. She looked around as she thought over the events of the night.

"I suppose...I mean, it's been kind of hectic but...I'm doing better than I thought I would, so that's good," she said. Roldan spied on her when she wasn't looking.

"I will admit, over-all you've done everything we hoped and more than we expected," he said, purposefully keeping his eyes away from her. He didn't know why, but the thought of meeting her in the eye just then felt shameful.

"Really?" Sarah asked, with such honest disbelief Roldan couldn't help but look down to her. "It means a lot to hear you say that. You really are a good teacher. Tough and ornery, but good."

She smiled at him and he found himself deeply unsettled. They moved about the dance floor, and for some reason all he could think about was the last time he had danced with a Queen. She looked away as they danced, not feeling this same state of stasis as he, and he found himself gripping her more tightly as he fought to break free of it.

She didn't seem to notice his stare on her, questioning with every fiber of his being why his eyes were boring into every fiber of hers. He hated this girl. He couldn't stand to be around her. And yet there were times, there were times when he recognized that smile. She performed better tonight than he would ever give her credit for, the moment she'd first opened her mouth to Braxton... He hated himself, for not hating this girl.

The dance ended and the music slowly faded, the phantom band preparing for the next number. She stepped away from him, removing her hand from his shoulder and beamed up at him.

"Hm, I guess that wasn't so bad after all," she said and turned to head back to Jareth. Roldan hesitated, and for a split second reached out in an attempt to say something, but it was not his voice that called her name.

"Sarah?"

Sarah turned, not expecting to be met with Davion standing just near Roldan. Roldan looked back over his shoulder and glared. He didn't yet know what had happened between he and Jareth earlier, but he had gotten enough pieces from Sarah to know it was nothing good. He stood straighter and made himself a prompt wedge between them.

"What do you want?" Roldan demanded. Sarah stayed quiet, taking measure of the harsh tone of Roldan's voice. Davion gave in to return Roldan's glare, but he honestly had no care to deal with him.

"I don't believe I was talking to you. Why don't you run along to your master, lest I be the one to tell him your ogling of his woman."

Sarah tightened her brow. Whatever facade Davion had been putting up for her all this time, he wasn't using it now.

"Sarah, come," Roldan ordered, turning to stomp away. He reached out for her hand but she was quick to pull it away.

"No," she said, staring at nothing but Davion. Roldan stopped and rose his brow. "You can go. Jareth said he would be watching. I'll be fine," she said, stepping away from him. Roldan snarled impatiently but had not the ambition to pursue her further. Shooting another death eye at Davion he quickly stomped away.

Sarah was quiet as she stepped towards him, staring him intently in the eye. Davion's returning stare was solid, yet yielding.

"You can finally slap me if you want. I will not stop you," he said. Sarah tried to regard him as best she could, but she was too suspicious to gauge him.

"I definitely want to," she said, fisting her hands at her sides. "But I don't think that would be very becoming of someone in my position."

Davion looked down, trying to hide his reluctant smile, but Sarah wasn't falling for any of it.

"Would you care to dance with me? Please?" He offered out a hand, but she made no move to accept it.

"Not really," she said.

"Shall you make me beg?" he asked, dropping his head back down when she said nothing. "I am sorry," he finally said. Sarah huffed and looked away.

"Don't bother-"

"No, please. At least let me explain," he said. Sarah gave in to look him in the face. "Will you step closer? Please? At least consider that we are in the middle of a dance floor."

Full of exasperation, Sarah's inner self shouted fuck it and moved closer to him, even going as far as to assume the position for the coming dance. He smiled down at her as he took her hand and placed the other around her waist, but she kept her face turned fully away from him.

"You're a liar," she said," worse than Jareth." Now that surprised him, truly.

"What makes you say that?" he asked. Sarah turned to look up at him, revealing all the rage and hurt in her eyes.

"Because Jareth has never lied about who he is. He's never -he would never- put on a show like the one you've been doing. He's always been eager to show me how much of a monster he is. You're a worse one for trying to hide it."

Davion's eyes were wide and he blinked repeatedly. He didn't...expect this reaction. Mariella had been feeding him intel for weeks. He thought-

"Sarah, I...I didn't mean to hurt you," he said, his voice full of regret. Sarah sneered and looked away.

"_Tch_, isn't that what they all say? I know that's what Jareth always says. How can you expect to be forgiven for something you were preemptively determined to enact? What's worse is that you knew the consequences. How could you for a second think I wouldn't be hurt?"

"It wasn't about you," he said, which came off the complete wrong way, a blunder he quickly sought to correct. "I was trying to remind Jareth how delicate of a situation he has with you."

"No, you were trying to provoke him. You were trying to cause a rift between us, as if we need your help with that."

"You don't know the whole truth, Sarah. You don't know how fragile you really are, or how fragile that has made him. He is my brother, but also my King. He cannot afford any weaknesses."

"So you expect me to believe that you taking advantage of my trust to coerce me physically, degrade me and deceive me was an attempt to help us?" she asked.

"Yes. Precisely. I was showing him what could happen should he not deal with certain threats. I know I have betrayed your trust, and I know you are angry, but I would never do anything to harm you. That's why I did it. If it were anyone else threatening you, things would end very differently."

"The only threat I see here is you, Davion. Jareth said you're the only one who can sift through his magic. I don't blame him for over-looking it. He should be able to trust his own brother."

Davion bit his cheek then. He didn't like being berated like this and it only made matters worse that he couldn't be allowed to justify himself.

"You're wrong," he said, his gaze hardening. "I am not the only one. And believe me, those with the ability to do so pose a far greater threat than I ever could. I was trying to make him aware that if I could slip past him so easily, what might someone else do if given the chance?"

"And who would this mystery threat be that you keep referring to?" she asked. Davion's eyes flickered away. This was getting difficult. He'd never argued with a woman before, let alone tried to make her happy without giving away the nation's biggest secret.

"That's hard to say..." he said, his eyes still adrift as he focused on how to best handle the issue. How Jareth managed to talk around her like this, he had no clue.

"That's not good enough Davion. I'm sick of being the collateral damage utilized when you people see fit to make a point. I'm a person, just like you. Though it seems you don't see me that way."

Davion was quiet for a moment. They were dancing steadily, but from the focus they had on their conversation it was a surprise that they didn't topple over. His brow drew tight as he thought and then he sighed, closing his eyes in resignation.

"You're right...I haven't been looking at you as I should," he said, then opened his eyes to lock onto hers. "However, I would like to rectify that. You claim to know my brother and have proven capable enough to accept him, and I have seen the changes it has brought upon him...perhaps it may be worth allowing you to know me as well." Sarah was a bit taken aback by that and not in a good way. She stared at him strangely. "It's just that...seeing that expression and knowing it is meant for me. It makes me feel ugly. And as I stand here conversing with you, I can't help but acknowledge that this isn't fun anymore. I am truly sorry that I was the one who hurt you. I am simply not used to considering anything other than my own intentions, especially not the effect my schemes might have on one as innocent and genuine as you."

Sarah was silent, taking the time to bore deep into his gaze and dissect the sincerity presented there.

* * *

"Look at you two, speaking with such hushed voices so close and out of sight. I wonder, what ever could you be discussing?" The sound of Davion's voice made Jareth's ears tense as he looked back, meeting his brother's gaze as he stepped from around the pillar. "Mariella, why don't you leave us for a while?" he suggested, rather promptly. Mariella looked to him, then Jareth, wary to move one way or the other. She was in the middle of being questioned by him, though from the look on his face, could tell he was far more interested in questioning Davion. She looked out over the crowd to spy Sarah, safely and contently dancing away with Roldan. With that peace of mind, she bowed her head and scurried away. Watching as she walked away, Davion moved from the shadows to stand beside Jareth, comfortably leaning back against the stone column until their shoulders touched. His eyes wandered out and spotted the same thing Mariella had. "I see you let go of Sarah again. Will you never learn?"

Jareth's eyes darkened as he watched Sarah move, knowing this conversation was bound to happen.

"I see you're finally showing your face," he said, then smiled in spite of himself. "You've got some nerve, pulling one of your stupid pranks here, tonight of all nights."

"To be honest, I wasn't planning on doing anything, but you really gave me no choice," Davion said, shrugging with nonchalance.

"My ward on her is near impenetrable. The only amount of magic you were able to affect her with wasn't even your own and failed from taking its full effect. You were able to put her in a slight daze just long enough to piss me off. That flower was already disintegrating by the time I pulled it from her. What ever sense of accomplishment you intend to rub in my face, I find highly unimpressive," Jareth snapped, already losing his patience with this conversation. Davion's expression lit with surprise.

"You think I was testing the resilience of your protection ward? Dear gods, you really are obtuse," he said, smiling and shaking his head to himself. "But that's not true, is it? You know exactly what I was aiming at. Do you really think something as capricious as a necklace is going to work?" he then said, something which recaptured Jareth's full attention. He turned slightly then, to glare at him from the corner of his eye. Davion held that stare for a moment before rolling his own eyes away. "Oh, don't look at me like that, of course I knew. I could sense it as soon as I came close to her. No one else may be competent enough, but I have a keen eye for your type of magic. It is my own after all."

"Do you plan on getting to the point of all this? Or am I going to have to simply walk away from boredom?" Jareth said, feigning apathy.

"If I was able to sense it and get so close to her, do you really think Liana won't?"

Jareth took a deep breath then. It was obvious Davion had figured it out, there was no use in denying it now.

"It's an experiment. We'll have to wait and see," he said, stiffly.

"That's an awfully large risk, isn't it? How did you even find a spell that would work -if it works."

"That is none of your business."

Davion's brow rose again and he gave in to turn towards his brother.

"None of my business? Right. You've got a ticking time bomb hanging around your precious mortal's neck. If Liana doesn't set it off, something else surely will."

"And what is that supposed to mean?" Jareth asked, shooting Davion a dangerous eye.

"Wasn't it comforting knowing that if all else failed, Liana would be there to save the day?" he asked. Jareth was silent. "I don't think she's going to be very happy about being cut off from her corner stone. You're powerful, but not all powerful. As I showed you tonight, you can't always be there to protect her. What if something happens and you're not quick enough? What if something happens and Liana cannot save her master?" He spoke with total seriousness, something that was vastly out of character. Jareth rose a suspicious brow and allowed his scowl to curl into a smirk.

"Since when did you become so concerned over this matter?" he asked. Davion too cocked a brow.

"Believe it or not I do acknowledge the importance of your rulership, as it directly affects my state of living," he said, matter-of-factly. "If anything were to happen to Sarah and Liana were set free once more, I doubt she would look upon you, and thus me, as favorably as she once did," he continued, then eased back to peer over the room, eyeing the clusters of flowers which had yet to wilt. "I was wondering why you would choose to surround her with Labyros, knowing there to be a possibility they would affect her. But then I saw the necklace and it made sense. You're testing it, seeing if it successfully bars the energy from reaching her. Very clever brother, but not very smart. You're goading the wrong lion this time. Frankly, I'm worried for us all."

Jareth huffed then, stifling his smirk from growing any larger, though it wasn't from amusement.

"Your commitment to the matter is highly refreshing, but you can keep all your worries and your warnings to yourself. I am fully prepared to deal with Liana should it become necessary. In the mean time, I believe Sarah is already starting to benefit from her absence," he said, trying to deflect from his bluff.

"You still suspect her emotions to have been tampered with?"

"Suspect? Liana took credit for it fully. It's been twenty-four hours and already I've noticed an ease in her demeanor. I suspect this to be her true self and not the, as you phrased it, time bomb Liana made her out to be," he explained, with apparent self-satisfaction. He was initially concerned over his decision to place a charm on her, but not now. Not after experiencing how different it had made things. She was thinking more rationally, rather than letting her emotions project her into action, which was something she had greatly needed tonight. It couldn't have been timed better.

"Hm, ease you say?" Davion said, eyeing the distant figures of Sarah and Roldan as he thought. "I'm going to go apologize to her now. Do you think she will accept?" he asked. Jareth peered over to him briefly, then back to Sarah, his eyes fixating on her profile and he smiled.

"That depends..." he spoke softly. "Are you going to mean it?"

* * *

"So what do you say, might we start things anew? As friends?"

Davion tried to keep his smile sincere as he fought for her favor. He'd been pleading his case for quite some time now, but Sarah had hardly budged. She really was angry with him, wasn't she? He wondered if this was the kind of stubbornness Jareth had to deal with on a daily basis, and perhaps for the first time ever felt great sympathy for him.

"I don't trust you enough to be friends," Sarah said, more concerned over when the song would end than anything else. Davion had been begging for forgiveness since they stepped on the dance floor, but she was just so skeptical about him now that she couldn't bring herself to give him it. It was strange, she always knew when Jareth was being sincere, whether it was an apology or a threat, she'd learned to tell when it mattered. But it wasn't like that with Davion. With him, she felt far more vulnerable because he had killed her with kindness. Because he wasn't kind at all.

"You don't have to trust me," he said, which to her might have been a relief. "It would probably be better for you if you didn't. You merely have to like me," he finished, giving her another hopeful grin. Sarah stared at him with a bitter expression.

"I'm finding that to be pretty difficult as well," she said, dourly. However, Davion seemed to be having a completely adverse reaction to her pessimism.

"For now. I've been told I can be quite the charmer when the occasion calls for it. Though, I suppose my charm has little effect on you by this point," he said, the cheerful rhythm to his voice starting to annoy her a little.

"I'll warn you now, I can be bad when it comes to grudges. If I were you, I wouldn't plan on crossing any bridges any time soon." She said that and yet knew it was a blatant lie. The only grudges she held were the ones against Jareth. It had been a month or less since all that went down and she was already firmly fixed on the corner between forgive and forget. She couldn't tell if wanting to move on made her weak or strong.

"You are a cruel one, and so cold," he said, and she pouted despondently at the phrase he'd just stolen. "You have the look of one who has been jaded one too many times. How unfortunate of me to have been the final straw." He stared at her warmly, gently squeezing her hand for his own reassurance as he led them about. "But if time is what you need, then time is what I will give you. I would like to invite you to my home in Fort Fyrn," he said. Sarah peered up with reflexive intrigue. "You can schedule whenever you like, probably after the wedding I'd imagine. You will be quite busy until then."

"You want me to go up north?" she asked, sounding dubious. For some reason, that opportunity had never even occurred to her.

"You and Jareth, if you wish him there that is. My invitation is to you. Think of it as a retreat, away from the barren heat of the capital. There is much for you to do and after this misfortune of ours, I have the overwhelming urge to pamper you. The decision is yours of course, though I implore you to 9accept. I would like to make things up to you more personally than a dance neither of us is paying attention to," he said, smiling at her the way he always did. She looked away from it reluctantly.

"...I don't know. We'll see. I need to stop being pissed at you first," she said, petulantly, already scolding herself for how easily she had given in to him too. Davion's smile grew with delight.

"Wonderful. I'll take that as a yes," he said, then went to twirl her in celebration.

"What's with the smile you ingrate? Don't tell me she's forgiven you already; I'd be insulted."

The next thing Sarah knew, she was being pulled from Davion's grasp and pressed firmly into Jareth's. Her eyes went wide and she gasped, turning back to catch Davion, but Jareth was set on being all that consumed her view.

"Hey! What are you-"

"Mmm...My turn," he whispered, pressing his face into the hair at her nape as his words hummed into her skin. Her body shivered, frantic goosebumps rising in the wake of his breath. Jareth's eyes rose to Davion menacingly then, making sure he was privy to the effect just his proximity had on her. "Get lost, before that pretty face of yours gets ruined," he warned, pulling her in closer as he moved her to the beat.

"A fate worse than death," Davion said, taking his brother's hint. If it could even be called one. "I look forward to seeing you again Sarah, you will not regret it," he said and then left without another trace. Jareth, having lost complete interest in everything that wasn't her, closed his eyes and nearly smothered her in his embrace as they danced.

"Oh? What sort of promise have you given my snake of a brother?" he asked, playfully. Sarah was forced to stare at the ceiling, he was holding onto her so awkwardly.

"He invited us to go up north, a vacation I guess, to make up for being an ass tonight," she said.

"Hm, I hope you said no," he murmured, slowly releasing her. She stared at him worriedly as he leaned back.

"Jareth- are you alright?" she asked? His expression...she'd never seen it before. His eyes were glazed and -were -were his cheeks turning pink?

His hand found the back of her head then and held her as he kissed her hard. She stumbled and rose her hands to his chest to ease him off.

"God you're drunk," she said, trying to wiggle out of his hold. A hum of contentment resonated from the back of his throat and he wrapped his arms around her tighter.

"Mmm, I'm happy," he clarified.

"You reek of alcohol."

"And that discredits me how?" he asked, then spun her around dramatically, leading her out then pulling her back in sharply. Their torsos crashed against one another and he held her close in place. "So, what else were you two talking about?" he asked, seamlessly merging back into the rhythm of the song. Sarah tried her best to ignore the more than suggestive aura about him.

"Basically, he just apologized profusely, saying how he did it all for the greater good," she said, keeping her tone sterile. She didn't know if was appropriate for people to be seeing him act like this with her, she didn't want to encourage it.

"Hmmm," he mumbled, turning his face to graze his tongue along her neck.

"Mph, Jar-"

"Oh, sorry. The thought of seeing my brother grovel at someone's feet, let alone your feet, greatly excites me," he said, pulling away to spin her again. She had no idea why she was smiling.

"You have issues," she said when he pulled her back in.

"Don't we all?"

"How much did you have to drink since I went to dance with Roldan?" she asked. She had a feeling he was getting tipsy when she'd left, noticing the way he leaned against the pillar, but what the hell could have happened since then? It hadn't been that long, had it?

"Not much. Although, I did start to enjoy it," he said, proudly.

"Oh, yeah?"

"Mhmm." He leaned in again and sniffed along her neck, forcing sneaky half-kisses that left her jittering. "We've done all the motions, met all the faces, endured _acceptable hardships_, and during it all, all I've wanted was nothing more than another dance with you," he said, something that struck a chord with her. Although they'd been together all night, and had technically participated in the first three dances together, they hadn't once shared a simple traditional dance. That was why it struck her as odd when he suggested she take Roldan as her first real dance of the night, after complaining about how much it bothered him the night before. "So, did you forgive him?"

"Huh?" she asked, having dazed quite intently.

"Did you accept Davion's apology?" he repeated. Sarah scowled.

"I accepted it, but that's not the same as forgiveness."

Jareth smiled arrogantly.

"I tried to warn you. I told you he wasn't the white knight that he seemed."

Sarah's scowl softened into a frown. It wasn't so much that she was angry at Davion as she was disappointed.

"Maybe I was just seeing what I wanted to see. Constantly bearing arms against this ruthless black knight he calls a brother I suppose has been making me a little desperate."

"Desperate for more perhaps..." he said, leaning in as his hands traveled greedily up her sides. She recoiled, but only succeeded in getting closer to him. "I can't wait for you to bear arms against me...and legs...and waist...and-"

"Stop it. We're in public, in case you've forgotten." Sarah blushed furiously. The drawl of his whisper just then was as intoxicating as he was intoxicated. She looked away, her hand on his shoulder beginning to clutch at his jacket.

"I haven't forgotten. I simply don't care. It's about time I started enjoying my own party." He stopped dead then, in the middle of the dance floor, taking her face in both his hands and kissed her shamelessly. There was no question in him, he was not asking and she had no choice but to reciprocate. She contemplated him carefully when he pulled away, an image of Davion and his furtiveness coming to mind and it was then that the thought came back. She could always tell when he was being sincere. When it really mattered. .

"You're insufferable and infuriating," she said, a solid enough conclusion on any day. He wrapped both arms around her waist as he looked down at her. This was certainly turning out to be one awkward dance.

"More like suffering and infuriated," he corrected, his smile curling deviously. Sarah rolled her eyes, but he would not allow her the chance to recoil from him. "What would you have me do? My pride is wounded from being forced to watch my fiancé passionately kiss my own brother. A lesser man wouldn't stand for such things," he said, his apparent hurt betrayed by the consistency of his smile. Regardless of his jesting, Sarah was quick to rebut him.

"Hey, it was not a passionate anything. It was a quick peck. I could hardly even move," she said, still partially trying to convince herself of those words. Jareth released part of his hold to place a hand over his chest.

"Your excuses are but salt in the gashes struck upon my heart," he said theatrically, the sparkle in his eye twinkling something dastardly as she squirmed under its scrutiny.

"Dear Lord. There's just no winning is there?" she said, sighing exasperatingly.

"Hm, I could have told you that."

"I didn't think it was possible," she said, shaking her head.

"What?"

"For your ego to grow any larger," she said, then jabbed a finger at him. Oh, the things that gesture did to him. "In some ways maybe you _should_ be more like Davion. At least groveling means he can be humbled, but there's just no hope for you," she said. The glaze of his eyes did little to hide the lewd nature of his thoughts just then, not that he had any intention of keeping them from her. She saw this shift go through him and was about to complain about his one-track mind when he took hold of her chin and angled those angry eyes straight up to his.

"Who needs hope when you can have surety?" he said, then leaned in slowly, slow enough for the anticipation to betray her. "For instance...I think you like me plenty just the way I am." He smiled as he took her lips once more, this time slowly, delicately, savoring her as she unwittingly gave in to it. He pulled back just shy of contact and made sure the lock of their gazes conveyed his challenge. She debated that challenge openly, the pros and cons of the next impulse battling as the sparks that gave her gaze such vigor and striking potency. That brightness, that stern intensity grew until those sparks flamed the tension between them.

"Fuck it," she whispered, standing up on her toes and kissed him, then let him kiss her as his hands wound into her hair, holding her taut.

"Does that mean I'm right?" he asked, taunting her with her own frustration. She glared at him, feeling the anxiety of the day finally culminate deep in her abdomen.

"Shut up," she said, hindering any more of his arrogance while brutally validating it as she reached into his hair and yanked his mouth down to hers.

  



	102. Redboned, part 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While unbeknown to her, Sarah has succeeded in obtaining the one thing the Goblin King has desired for hundreds of years -power over the Labyrinth. After being hidden for years from his diabolical wrath, Sarah finds herself alone and vulnerable as Jareth's dark desires are finally aloud to rear their ugly heads. As always, the only question is, are things really as they seem?

The door to the Chamber Suite Royale burst open as a pair of highly vehement figures came crashing through it.

Sarah knew better than to give in. That persistent charm of his would be the death of her. It wasn't her fault. Her weakness was in his smile and oh, the way he smiled. As the night went on she found herself basking in that smile, realizing that she had never seen him so happy, so simple and carefree. She was beside herself to find she was laughing along with him, staring after him long after he looked away. Maybe it was the atmosphere, maybe it was the booze, maybe it was something else entirely. What ever it was, it was a welcome reprieve. To feel such leisure. To feel so content. To be so...happy.

But it was the dance that did her in. The Partner. She had no idea what had gone on up until that point, as it was like the memories had sped up and condensed to occupy but only one millisecond of her time. All she had time for now was his breath on her neck, the way he held her to him, the way he seemed to slow time itself just for her.

She knew better than to indulge in his peer pressuring. _The important part is over,_ he said. _People will expect you to be a little more relaxed. This is in honor of our marriage after all, you should at least be perceived as wanting to be with me_. But there was no front needed, not as she found herself slamming him up against the door to their bedroom so hard it flew open behind him. She knew she would be cursing herself in the morning for this. She'd always been a lightweight.

Jareth staggered back as his hands clawed around and held Sarah tightly, trying his best to remain steadfast as she pushed against him. She grabbed his lapels and he shrugged out of his coat quickly, but not without slamming the door shut behind her and thrusting her back into it in return. She gasped, the contact of her shoulders and tailbone making a loud bang as she hit the thick wood.

He had a fist in the back of her hair as he held her firm, the strain in her scalp making her wince and snarl as she bit at his lips. Pressing his hips hard against hers, he pulled on her hair jerking her head to the side so he could suck on her neck. His mouth was merciless, the suction pinching her skin as she struggled to breathe.

She made quick work of the buttons on his vest, clawing it off of him and reaching next for his collar. Jareth's mind was on other matters however. He leaned down, kissing and gnawing on her chest and the soft flesh of her bosom. His hands traveled down, going up and under her skirt. Now free, she tried to push him back, but the sheer resilience of his body was enough to keep her firmly pressed up against the door. His hands wound up her thighs, his fingers greedy as they groped around her rear. He hoisted her up some, then took one of her legs and raised it to his hip. Reaching up and yanking off one of his gloves with his teeth, he lowered his hand back down, pressing his fingers firmly against her sex.

She jerked and stood a little straighter against the door, the pressure and undulations of his hand down there causing her to rock her hips in spite of herself. She panted heavily, wanting nothing more than to shove him to the ground and take him herself. He pushed her underwear aside and suddenly his bare skin was touching hers.

Her mouth dropped open and she stifled a moan. His fingers gently probed her, pushing through her folds gradually, teasing her as she grew wet with anticipation. His hooded gaze holding hers, he slipped two of his fingers deep, his mouth opening along with hers as she let out a begrudging moan. He smiled wryly then.

"I told you, you liked me," he said, his voice a low rumble. He pumped his fingers into her faster now, and she ignored that she moved her hips to meet him each time.

"I told you to stop talking," she said breathily, then reached out to take hold of the collar of his shirt. She lurched forward with enough force to make him stagger back, but he was quick to counter.

Reaching down, he wrapped his hands around the back of her thighs and pulled her up, placing her legs around his hips as he turned and sat her down on a dresser nearby. He leaned into her, holding her at the nape while his mouth ravaged her, then reached passed to knock the contents of the dresser's surface to the floor. Sarah's eyes darted over reflexively as all the random nicknacks crashed to the floor and was thus winded when his hand curled around the front of her bodice and slammed her back flat against the dresser. He held her secured with a hand splayed over her sternum, then made quick work removing the first layer of her skirt. Her legs squeezed around him tighter as he began to tear at the second, trying to stop him from leaving her as he stepped back to pull that part of her dress down and off of her. He knelt down then, taking hold of her leg and kissed her knee. His free hand traveled up her thigh, pushing away the layers of her petticoat that remained and pressed down on her abdomen.

His mouth followed in the wake of his hand, his tongue flickering out to graze across her skin the closer to came to her heated sex. She arched her back from the anticipation and looked away, closing her eyes. Her skin was tingling with the desire to have his mouth on her there and so she conceded to let him have his way. His breath on her was warm and moist as he ran his tongue along her opening.

Sarah gasped, her voice peaking in a breathy moan as his tongue entered her. So hot and soft, he pierced her forcefully, moving about her insides with meticulous care. He withdrew then pressed deeper and she found her thighs trembling as she fought the urge to squeeze them together. The heel of his hand pressed down on her stomach and suddenly the feelings became sharper. She began to twist atop the dresser, but his other hand holding her leg over his shoulder kept her in place.

He pulled back and twirled his tongue around her clit, his hot breath scorching her as she moaned with the frustrating desire to be filled again. He let go of her leg and filled the void with his fingers once more, thrusting them deep as the hand on her stomach pressed harder. Her legs began to move restlessly, her heels digging into his back, but she did not fight to escape. He pulled his mouth away and leaned over her, his fingers moving hard and deep as he took hold of her face and kissed her deeply. She could taste herself on him, on his lips, on his tongue, on his chin and on his cheeks. It only made her more impassioned.

She hadn't thought there to be any significance when his hand withdrew from her face, but she soon realized where it had gone when she felt the head of his erection pressing between her folds. The titillation was enough to make her explode with impatience. He pressed into her a little deeper and then, without restraint, took hold of her hips and pulled her sharply onto him.

Sarah's back arched and her legs curled around his waist, rough moans escaping her as he buried himself deep within her. Jareth groaned then pulled back and thrust himself in again.

"Fuck-" he hissed, the feeling of her tightening around him, searing him with her heat, was intoxicating. He wedged his elbows above her shoulders, restricting her movements, and took her roughly. Her legs locked around his hips and her arms clawed into his back as he pounded her and the dresser back inch by inch. He kissed and bit at her neck, panting and moaning into her heated skin. She arched herself even more and urged his head to move lower, holding him as he sucked at what was exposed of her breast.

This dress was too much for her, the bodice was driving her crazy. She thought about how to best rip it off, but the challenge of untying all those laces proved aggravating. Sensing her inner struggle, Jareth wound his hands into her hair and forced his mouth upon hers, their teeth clashing roughly as he pulled her up. His hands moving to her hips, he jerked her back to the edge of the dresser, thrusting into her deeper than before. He then bit at her clavicle as his hands hurriedly yanked loose the laces of her bodice.

She wasn't sure how he'd done it so fast, but didn't hesitate to raise her arms as he pulled it off of her. Finding the opening she'd been looking for, she quickly placed her hands on the rim of the dresser and pushed herself off, forcing him to stagger back with her clinging tightly to him. The energy of their frenzied impulses was starting to catch up to them, resulting in Jareth's loss of balance from his already impaired equilibrium. Drunken vertigo hit him and he was forced to lower them both to the floor.

Sarah clawed her hands deep into his hair, not giving a single fuck as to what they landed on or crashed into. She felt her knees touch the carpet as Jareth moved to kneel on the floor and she wasted no time in the effort to steal back control. She held onto him as she moved astride him, rocking her hips and pushing down hard. She threw her head back and pushed his face into her cleavage, writhing when his hands found her ass and forcefully guided her hips. He groaned loudly then and she pushed herself forward until he was forced to his back. She felt the heat in her eyes radiate through her cheeks and forehead, the room around her starting to spin as her buzz hit her stronger.

She placed her hands on his chest, feigning the ability to hold him down and rode him hard. Giving in, Jareth eased back and let his hands roam all over her. Reduced to nothing but her matching black bustier and tulle petticoat, just the mere sight of her was enough to unravel him. He yanked off his remaining glove and grasped the soft pale skin of her waist with both bare hands, watching the way her muscles worked as she moved and plunged her down until he was thrust as deeply as possible.

He let his eyes devour her in all her glory, the soft glint of her necklace again catching his eye. He fought the urge to smile then, reveling in the satisfaction that this was without a doubt Sarah. She wanted him. She took him. She had him. Utterly.

Feeling a new surge of excitement, Jareth sat up and rolled her onto her back. She hit the floor with a thud and he used that brief moment of distraction to shove her hard into the wooden boards. Her shoulders chafed from the friction of the carpet, but she ignored it, instead raising her hips to meet him thrust for thrust.

He took hold of her leg then and brought it to his shoulder, then leaned in to see how far she could go. He was surprised when she wasn't strained in the slightest. He eased back and instead used a hand on her ankle to push her leg all the way back to her own shoulder. She stared at him unfazed.

"Well, aren't you flexible," he said, a little surprised. Of all the things they'd done the previous night, it was more about the rawness of it than of exploring things like positions or limits.

"I did use to be an athlete," she said. He became very excited then. Very excited indeed.

Taking both her ankles, he placed her legs over one of his shoulders, then leaned forward until she was folded in half.

"Oh...oh this is going to be fun," he said, a dark and dangerous smile playing wickedly across his face. Sarah had time to be concerned for all but one second before crying out at the sharpness and intensity of his next thrust.

She closed her eyes and ground her teeth but there was no way out of this one and Jareth had no intention of taking it easy on her. From this angle he could enter her completely, feeling the end of her restrict him as he pushed deeper and deeper. Sarah continued to cry out in sharp, high moans, her face quickly overheating from the sheer acuteness of the sensation.

"Jareth!" she pleaded his name, begging for him to show mercy, but he took her call in a somewhat different way.

"Fuck yes. Take it," he growled, the visceral nature of his voice completely shredding her. She fought him with her hands but he had her folded up like a pretzel and the hardness of the floor gave her no cushion against his onslaught.

By chance, her legs found the opportunity to slip from his shoulder and she took a deep breath of relief when the pressure ceased. Forever taking advantage of the moment, Jareth grabbed onto her ankles as they fell and angled her hips to the side, and again the sharp feeling returned.

She wriggled to escape it with all she had, inching back along the carpet as she did so. It wasn't much use, all he had to do was pull her back. Hard. And fast.

Not knowing what else to do, she turned her torso and tried to claw for something, find anything to hold onto that might help her brace against him. She felt his hand on the back of her shoulder pushing her down, shoving her face firmly into the carpet. She tried sitting up, but next was his hands on her hips, turning them the remaining few degrees so she was flat on her stomach. He used a knee to kick her legs apart and laid himself flat against her.

"Stop struggling," he whispered into her ear. "The more you tense up the more pressure you'll feel," he said, a hand pulling on her hair so she was forced to look back at him. The angle was awkward to say the least and she panted from the stress of it. He kissed her then, messily, and then finished pulling off his own shirt. She used the opportunity to raise to her hands, but that was a decision she quickly regretted.

Easing back, Jareth jerked on her hips so she was on her knees and then pulled her by the hair until she was forced to move in the direction of the bed. There was a trunk in front of it and he pushed her onto it, thankful that it stood at just the right height. She fisted the comforter her face was now pressed into, bracing herself yet again as his hands went around her hips, pulling her onto him as he then took her from behind.

She growled with aggravation then. No matter what it was between them, a conversation, a fight, sex, it was always a power-play, each of them fighting to take back dominance. She'd dealt with the way he'd been pulling her around up until then, but now, as he took her like a dog, she found herself unable to sit idly by.

With a force he was not prepared for, she made a lurch towards the bed, breaking free of his hold and climbing onto the downy mattress. Jareth was quick to go after her, reaching out for her ankle but she was quick to kick him away. She turned, shimmying out of her skirt and wantonly unclipping the buttons on the back of her bustier. Jareth paused then, crumbling under the sublimity of her stare. Her eyes hot. Her mouth open and watering. Her hair falling in a shameless mess about her. There was a rouge to her cheeks and a smear in her make-up that painted her something predatory. Watching her eagerly, she undid the last clasp of her bustier and, for the first time ever, made sure that he reveled in the sight of her. He began to crawl up the bed to her, his head looking up to her in near submission as she stared down at him with such fierce hunger. She eased back against the pillows and allowed him to move over top of her. He knew then. He knew how much she thrived when in control, not merely of herself but over him. He kept his lips from reaching her as he entered her again, feeling a sense of divine deference as he took her. She wanted to take control of him and he was quickly learning how much it enthralled him to be controlled by her.

* * *

Sarah awoke to the sounds of birds chirping. Their song was louder than she was used to, non-diluted by the elevation of the castle. She struggled to open her eyes as a steady pulse moved through her temples. She began to sit up and found an arm draped over her. She looked back and found Jareth. _Oh, yeah..._ He was sleeping soundly, and she found the covers just barely making him decent as her eyes traveled down the contours of his exposed hip and thigh. She subconsciously clenched her fists then and was surprised when something clenched hers back. She looked over and saw their fingers firmly entwined. She squeezed his hand again, realizing she'd never held it like this before. It felt so childish, and yet...

She tore her hand away quickly, scowling as she looked out over the room. It was a mess. A total fucking disaster zone. Being careful not to wake him, she gently lifted his arm and snuck out from under it. She peered around and found a pair of robes hanging close by and quickly shucked one on.

She thought about waking him up, about staying at the very least, but she couldn't bring herself to do so. She was wary of this, this _morning after_ state. But at the same time, she felt guilty about walking out on him a second time. As she stood staring at him, she felt something trickle down the inside of her leg and grew confused. That's when she recalled exactly how many times they had had their way with one another and how she was too exhausted to bother dealing with it before hand. She went into the bathroom and cleaned herself thoroughly. At first she thought nothing of it, but then her hand began to slow as it moved down her thigh.

They had been having sex a lot recently. Like, a lot a lot. It had only been a handful of days, but she was well aware that didn't mean shit when you weren't using a condom. She grew worried then, chiding herself for her own irresponsibility. She under no circumstances wanted anything to do with children. Just the thought of motherhood put her in a mild panic. The prospect of bearing Jareth's children had come up before, but she had always pushed it away saying she would deal with it later. Well, now was looking to be later more and more.

Should she say something? Was she even allowed to? Yes, she knew her obligation as both a wife and a Queen was to procure heirs, but would he understand her trepidation? Would he be willing to give her some time? They did have an eternity after all, what was a couple years to him? She could argue it would just be "having fun", but she didn't think he would fall for something as superficial as that. Would he concede if she begged? Honestly, she did not picture him giving in to start wearing condoms, but there was always the possibility of birth control right? Actually, she would prefer that. However, just thinking of what kind of message a Queen being on birth control sent made her cringe. There was no way Jareth was going to take kindly to any of this, regardless if he wanted kids.

With this new struggle at the forefront of her mind, she decided it would be best to put some space between them so she could clear her head.

She found a semi-casual nightgown already waiting in a cabinet in the bathroom and wondered if this place, like the castle, conformed to one's secret desires. After slipping it on, she pulled on the robe as well and went to sneak out of the room. Jareth was still sleeping, his body perfectly angled to shatter her nerves. She forced her eyes away and opened the door slowly. It creaked and she cringed, but nothing happened. She snuck through the small space allotted and closed it quietly behind her.

She tiptoed quietly through the halls, having forgotten to have checked what time it was, and was extra vigilant for any straggling guests. The place was silent. Dead empty. When she made her way to the lobby, she looked up to find Roldan standing a ways ahead of her, in front of the grand staircase. She approached him and he turned to throw her an eye.

"Ah, so I see you're finally awake," he said, which was as cheerful of a greeting she ever expected to get from him. She moved to stand by his side and saw he was looking out a window overseeing the ballroom. There were Goblins of all sorts working clean-up.

"What time is it? It's not late, is it?" she asked.

"It's getting close to eleven actually," he said. Sarah's brow rose.

"What? Really? Is everybody gone then?" she inquired. Roldan gave her a smirk.

"Yes, those who chose to lodge vacated early this morning. It would be quite unbecoming for them to have run into you," he said, much to Sarah's relief. "Where's Jareth?" he asked.

"Oh, he's still sleeping. At least...he was when I left," she said, with an awkward shrug. Roldan watched her impatiently, unable to stop himself from briefly imagining what might be causing such a fluster.

"You don't have to be embarrassed," he said, his expression unwavering when her eyes sprang to his. "It is expected of you, after all." Sarah was quiet, knowing though denying what Roldan was talking about. She kept her lips pursed, restraining the embarrassment he had just sanctioned her from.

"So...when are we heading back?" she asked after a moment of silence. Roldan's expression of perpetual boredom moved away from her.

"Whenever the both of you are ready. We, including Mariella, are the only ones left."

"Oh. I see...Should I go wake him up then?" she asked, not wanting to cut into either of their _precious_ work time.

"Take your time," he said, turning to sign something a Goblin had rushed up to give him. "We are all on your schedule remember, no one else's."

Normally, she would have expected him to sound resentful about that, but he didn't.

"Oh. Um. Okay. We'll probably stick around for breakfast then, if that's okay. I imagine Jareth will have quite the hangover this morning," she said, cheerfully. Roldan rose a brow at her.

"What makes you say that?" he asked. Sarah was a bit taken back, having felt the conclusion she'd drawn to be an obvious one.

"Um...the barrel and a half that he drank last night?" she answered, still trying to wrap her head around it herself. Roldan huffed and smiled away from her.

"You really have no idea who you're dealing with, do you?" he asked. Sarah stared blankly. "He'll be perfectly fine," he then said, turning back towards her. "Actually, with the way things went last night, I imagine he'll be a great deal more than perfectly fine." The blush returned to Sarah's face, though she was sure he was referring to more than the dirty thoughts going around in her head.

"Well, never mind then. Forget I said anything," she said and moved to take her leave down the stairs. Roldan turned and followed her.

"Where are you going?" he asked.

"Outside. I want to get some fresh air. Unlike you lot, I cannot handle a couple glasses of wine let alone an entire keg," she said, leaving him at the top of the stairs.

She passed through what was left of the ballroom to get to the gardens and was surprised at how un-intimidating it all became. As she passed through, she couldn't help but notice the flowers. All of the roses were dead and wilted, turned black as if the gold had tarnished. This struck her as odd, because she remembered seeing the rose Bezaleel had given her sitting on the nightstand in she and Jareth's room and it was still in perfect bloom. She heard his voice echo then, _Do you know why the roses die? They die for you_.

The air outside was as crisp and fresh as she had hoped it would be. She stood beside a small pond, one that had been completely lost in the darkness of last night. There was a bench, but it was still wet with morning dew, and so she resigned to stand, clutching the ends of her robe tightly around her.

Strangely shaped fish swam ignorant of her stare on them.

_Kids. Jezzus_, she grumbled, frowning at her reflection in the water and shaking her head. There was no way around it, she was going to have to talk to Jareth about it, soon. Especially if he expected to sleep with her again. The more she thought about it, the more she questioned whether or not she was now comfortable with it finally realizing the risk. Would having his children really be so bad though? She acknowledged that answer was no. It was no longer about having _his_ kids, it was about having kids in general. She had just turned eighteen for Christ's sake. She was mature enough to know that she was no where near mature enough to be a mother. She was still trying to manage this new life of hers, she didn't think she could handle another major change.

And then there was this whole mating business. If Davion was right, if Jareth was reluctant about her possible participation, then maybe she could use that as leverage. But at the same time, threatening him with something like that was bound to end in disaster. No, she wasn't going to lie or coerce him. She was better than that. If she conveyed herself honestly and openly and he still shut her down, well, then they would have an entirely new problem to deal with.

Without realizing, she placed a hand over her stomach as she turned to walk away. She'd contemplated enough of this subject for one morning. Maybe it would be better to just sit down with him and lay it all out at once. As she walked back to the lodge, she wondered when would be the best time to do so, obviously not now...

Her head was lowered when she reentered their room, her thoughts having taken her attention far away from her. She made it about half way across the room when she sensed something amiss. She peered up to find her bedmate now gone, the sheets matted and left barren. She began to look around and nearly jumped out of her skin when a pair of strong arms caught her and twirled her around.

"Jeezus! Don't scare me like that!" she said, her heart racing from his ambush. Jareth smiled as he nuzzled her hair, the warmth of his embrace stemming from something more than body heat. He turned his face to her and kissed her cheek.

"Forgive me, the urge to feel your skin again was simply overwhelming," he said, so Goddamn chipper. Sarah tried to escape, but could only manage to turn around in his arms.

"You're awfully lively this morning," she observed, his smile radiant as he looked down on her.

"I told you, I'm happy," he said, then pulled her up off her toes as he embraced her. Sarah coughed.

"You sure you're not still drunk?" she asked, her voice strained from the force of his hug.

He nuzzled his face against her neck, closing his eyes and relaxing.

"How could I be anything other than happy? You came back after all."

It struck her then. He wasn't happy about getting laid last night, he was happy she had come back after walking out again. She found herself frowning as this dawned on her, unable to enjoy how sweet the moment actually was. Like Davion, there were moments when he could be sweet and charming. There were moments when he could be devilish and downright cruel. There were moments when he could trick her and hurt her; but unlike Davion, even when he lied to her, he was always sincere. No matter how terrible the ploy or painful the gimmick, he was always honest about who he was and why he was doing it, and he left it up to her whether or not to accept that. _If you have ever wished to know the reason I show you my darkest sides, it is so I can say that regardless of it all, you knew me honestly. I value that more than the pathetic phantasm he just ripped you from. _He had said that, and like always he had meant it. It was because of that, because she knew his darkest sides, that she was able to tell that this wasn't a phantasm, that the feelings he conveyed to her now were as genuine as the ones he had conveyed the night he had threatened to physically harm her should she disobey his every command. But was that enough? Could she love someone like that? Could she love him in spite of it? The fact that she was even considering it meant there was an inexplicable unbalance in her list of pros and cons. Sure, things were nice now, but she knew just how quickly that could end. She knew how quickly he could turn on her and she on him.

But as he held her there, smiling under the afternoon light, she thought that maybe, just maybe, there wouldn't be any harm in simply enjoying it.

She gasped when his arms circled her lower and lifted her into the air.

"Whoa- hey-"

"You smell like fucking," he said, taking a deep whiff of her nightgown. "I'd like to wash it off of you," he added and turned to carry her towards the bathroom, then stopped so he could open the door. "I'd like it if you washed it off of me too."

She stared at him as if he were being absurd and he smiled at such innocence. Yes, there was nothing wrong with enjoying things as they were; for, as they were both learning to understand, what mattered more was what could be, rather than what was.

He carried her in through the doorway and she reached out to close it behind them.

  



	103. An Impregnable Defense

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While unbeknown to her, Sarah has succeeded in obtaining the one thing the Goblin King has desired for hundreds of years -power over the Labyrinth. After being hidden for years from his diabolical wrath, Sarah finds herself alone and vulnerable as Jareth's dark desires are finally aloud to rear their ugly heads. As always, the only question is, are things really as they seem?

Chapter 18, An Impregnable Defense

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The lights were flickering. No, they were dancing. Spontaneously animated. They were reflections, refractions, broken shadows. Lights were chased by a wide gaze, a myriad sight. There was an echo. A hum. Did the ears resonate or receive? There was a deep breath, a shallow displacement, a cool, sharp ease upon the skin; and there were arms, arms that waved slowly. A subtle turn. A loss of balance, and lights that flickered over head.

Sarah stared absently at the light reflected upon the ceiling as she floated weightlessly in the pool. Perfectly balanced, her submerged ears hummed; her pulse quietly keeping time in the background. She closed her eyes and moved her limbs, languidly propelling herself through the water. It was all so peaceful. So quiet and still. When she opened her eyes, the lights were still dancing, brilliant golden highlights frolicking about the dim stone. She exhaled and the water rose, conforming to the shape of her chest. She breathed in again, and the water that withdrew left a chilled air in its place.

A deep rumble moved through the water but she paid it no mind. The patterning of the lights was bewitching, casting her under a spell as her eyes gradually relaxed shut. She let out a deep exhale, but jerked awake when her head started to sink.

The sound of water splashing was a stark contrast to the ambient humming she'd been enjoying as she fumbled for balance. She blinked a few times and shook the water from her ears.

"You alright?" Mariella asked, leaving Sarah surprised to the fact that she now there. Wading gently, Sarah peered around the room. She'd been so comatose she hadn't even noticed Marie coming in. That rumble. It must have been the door closing.

"Yeah. Just got a little too relaxed," she said, quickly dropping below the water's surface to wet her hair. "Did you just get here?" she then asked, wiping the water from her eyes. Mariella sat on the stone tile beside the edge, a thick towel wrapped tightly around her. The way she watched Sarah was curious and the way she gripped her towel was laden with uncertainty.

"Yes. I did as best I could. But quite frankly, I wasn't sure what you meant when you said_ bathing suit_," she said, shifting about awkwardly as she tried to get a better look at what Sarah herself was wearing.

"I still can't understand how you've never heard of a swim suit before. Aren't you a nymph?" Sarah asked, teasingly. That morning, when Sarah had first proposed that they spend the afternoon here, she was more than a little surprised by Mariella's reaction. She seemed apprehensive, down right anxious even, when Sarah told her to go grab her swim suit and meet her at the pool. She claimed not to know what Sarah was talking about, which only earned her a haphazard explanation and a rather inconsiderate shooing.

"Yes, but that's precisely my point," Marie said, her eyes now moving across the rippling of the water's surface. Sarah moved to lean against the rim.

"I don't understand. Aren't you in water like...all the time?" she asked.

"Why yes, if you're speaking relatively. But when you referred to me wearing a, quote, _bathing suit_, I thought you meant we were to take a bath together. And then when you instead referred to it as a _swim suit_, well...I was just a little confused."

Sarah gave her a half smile and laid her forearms out over the warm tile. Man, these people could be so literal sometimes.

"Confused? Don't you have swim suits? You know, what I'm wearing now? Do you call it by a different name?" she asked. Mariella shook her head.

"...No."

"No?" Sarah repeated. Mariella looked down.

"No. I mean we've heard of it obviously. It's just...placing a barrier between our flesh and our native element is seen as...unnatural. Forgive me, I'm sure this is quite common place for you. But I've never..."

Sarah's brow drew tight as she slowly caught on and then rose high as she pushed back from the ledge with firm awareness.

"Oh! You mean you've never worn one? You swim naked?" she asked, wondering why Mariella now looked so put off.

"Um...yes?"

"Hm. That makes sense," Sarah said, newly accustomed to random tid-bits of the Underground's customs. That's when something else clicked. "Oh, is that what's making you uncomfortable, then? That I asked you to wear clothing? Or were you worried about offending me if you didn't?" she asked. Mariella's eyes lit up full of embarrassment.

"What? Uncomfortable? Goodness, Sarah you should not worry about such things. I am here to please you after all," she said. Sarah's return expression coddled nothing.

"Stop it. I know how important your people's customs are," (as she had learned from her lessons with Roldan) "I thought coming here would be something we could both enjoy, but I don't want to make you do something you're uncomfortable with." For a moment she thought of suggesting she didn't have to wear a suit, but quickly realized that was something _she_ was not comfortable with. Mariella smiled then, a small sated smile.

"Sarah, are you aware that it is also custom for my kind to never adorn clothing?" she asked, teasingly. Sarah's eyes unwittingly widened. "Whether it be air, earth, fire or water, my people believe in an uninhibited connection to nature. However, most other civilized realms hold more conservative values these days. I have grown accustomed to the gowns and skirts that you yourself are currently growing accustomed to. I shall become accustomed to this as well," she said, then finally let loose the towel she held around her. Sarah eased back a bit to give her some room.

"Are you sure? You really don't have to," she said, trying her best not to ogle Mariella's now exposed body. Those damn markings...they really were everywhere weren't they? Mariella laughed softly and scooted up to sit on the ledge.

"Sarah really, it is not as large an ordeal as you may think it is. I was simply feeling a bit shy. Besides, I'm always interested in learning more about your culture. Tell me, is this something that would be acceptable in your world?" she asked, making it damn near impossible for Sarah not to look.

It was pink. The same pink as her dress from the ball, and Sarah suspected it was a color she fancied. Like everything she wore, it was silk and left little to the imagination. Her limbs and torso were so long and fit. She couldn't get over it. Reflexively, Sarah peered down to her own body, not so much self-consciously, but simply intrigued by the immense difference between their two figures.

"It's great Marie. You look great," she said, unknowingly wrapping her arms around herself as she stepped back to give her room to jump in. Marie's face lit up brilliantly at Sarah's approval and it was as if she were never feeling wary about it to begin with. She leaned towards her more, her wry little smile dazzling amidst the reflecting light.

"Really? Oh, I am so relieved. I saw yours and I became worried," she said, forcing Sarah to once again glance over herself. She was still getting the hang of her magic dressers and so thought to keep things simple. A black two piece was good enough. But, after seeing the refinement of Marie's (while claiming to be ignorant) taste, thought maybe she should have tried a little harder.

"Worried?" she asked, the emotion now steadily churning within herself.

"Why yes. Yours is so different and so very becoming. But I'm glad you approve," she said and then leaned back to dangle her legs out over the water. "Say, would you like to see something interesting?" she asked. Sarah rose a brow.

"Um, okay?" She watched skeptically when Marie slowly lowered her foot into the water, a look that brightened immensely when she saw what happened next. "Whoa-what- What the heck?!"

Of course, just when Sarah thought she could no longer be startled by this woman, she went and did something like that. As Mariella lowered her foot into the water, as soon as the pad of her big toe breached its surface, something started to change. The heavy black markings around her started to fade until they became pure white and her normally tanned olive skin too paled until it became a light, almost iridescent, blue. She withdrew her foot and gradually the colors shifted back. Sarah gaped, watching the color melt away with the excess water that dripped from her toes.

"Pretty nifty, huh?" Marie said, again perfectly adapting one of Sarah's Aboveground phrases. Sarah blinked repeatedly and looked back up to her.

"Wha- How did you do that?" she asked. With a bright smile, Mariella lowered both her legs to swish in the water.

"It's because I'm a hybrid," she said, eyeing her own toes as they paled. "Being in water activates the nymph in me. This is why our association with water is so profound. It brings out the primal being in us. It can even become a transient experience for some," she explained, the casual air about her as she splashed her feet implying that she was not one of those people.

"Really? How far does it go?" Sarah asked.

"Hm?" Mariella stopped splashing then and Sarah found she was now uncomfortable having her direct attention.

"I mean...the longer you're in the water...How much do you change?" she clarified.

"Oh! Well, that depends really. It depends on how heavily your lineage favors which species. I merely change color. However, I have known some who change even more than that. The longer they stay exposed, they start to develop scales and fins even. It's quite remarkable really."

"Whoa, seriously? They grow fins? That's awesome," Sarah said, totally amazed by this new knowledge.

"Mhm. There was a girl whom I grew up with. Her transformation was very interesting. You wouldn't have known simply from looking at her, but she had a very thin layer of scales beneath her skin, even when she was above water. When she swam her skin became something like a translucent membrane and you could see the shimmer of her scales peeking through at certain angles. It was really quite beautiful to behold. Me, I don't have anything like that. My mother is a hybrid and my father is Ognioux. That's why I have these stripes," she explained. Sarah nodded but let that one go and could only assume that people from Ognioux had stripes.

"I see. How interesting. I never would have thought," she said, trying to picture what Mariella would look like as an albino but then realized she would probably find out first hand very shortly.

"Mhm. This is a big world we're in. I've been traveling it for over two-hundred years and I find I still learn something new every day. When I think of all the knowledge an elder must possess, even someone as old as His Majesty, I become greatly humbled as well as envious."

Sarah peered up at the mention of Jareth, but was left hanging as Mariella suddenly dove in. Sarah shielded herself from the splash while trying to follow after her with her gaze, and was thus surprised by the fish-like swiftness with which she moved beneath the water. But then again, it really wasn't that surprising. When she surfaced, she was near the opposite end of the pool.

Now curious, Sarah began to swim towards her.

"What do you mean as old as Jareth? How old is he?" she asked, wondering why she had never wondered before. Mariella pushed back her hair and savored the feeling of weightlessness- It'd been so long since she was in this much open water.

"You know, I'm actually not quite sure. Far older than myself I am sure."

Sarah was quiet as she contemplated. She knew he had assumed the throne somewhere around 500 years ago, but how old was he then? Jareth himself had told her he was young, but what did that mean?

"I know Lord Davion is nine-hundred-and-eighty-six, therefore His Majesty must be older than that," she continued. Sarah peered up again, this time at the mention of Davion.

It had been two days since she'd last seen him. Two days since she'd last thought about Jareth and Davion in the same context. If she knew what day of the week it was, she would have a better understanding; but for all intents and purposes, if she pretended the ball was on Sunday, that would make today Tuesday afternoon. Things had admittedly been going rather well since the ball and so she'd completely forgotten about her little tiff with Davion. Now that Mariella had brought him up however, she was starting to feel a little awkward about it.

"Really? ...You know the exact number, huh?" she asked. Mariella nodded.

"Mhm. Lord Davion hosts a most excellent celebration in honor of his birth every winter," she explained. Sarah casually drifted towards her, but her expression was not so carefree.

"I see..." _I wonder if Jareth celebrates his birthday?_

"Is something wrong Sarah?"

Sarah blinked over as Marie glided past.

"Huh? No. No, I was just thinking about when Jareth's birthday might be."

"Ah, I see. I suppose you should ask him then," she suggested, meaning to tease her, but was blatantly ignored.

"Say, Marie-"

"Yes?"

"Can I ask you something personal?"

"Of course."

"What exactly is your relationship with Davion?" Sarah asked, both women slowing to tread vertically, facing one another. Mariella's expression shifted towards concern.

"My relationship? I believe I've told you, I was one of his courtesans," she said, wondering why Sarah had such a dour look on her face.

"Yeah, but do you love him? Did- does he love you?"


	104. An Impregnable Defense part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While unbeknown to her, Sarah has succeeded in obtaining the one thing the Goblin King has desired for hundreds of years -power over the Labyrinth. After being hidden for years from his diabolical wrath, Sarah finds herself alone and vulnerable as Jareth's dark desires are finally aloud to rear their ugly heads. As always, the only question is, are things really as they seem?

Mariella blinked dumbly for a moment; then there was silence, as if she needed to process the question.

"Love you ask? Of course I love my Lord Davion and I do believe he loves me in return. However...I believe what you mean to ask is whether or not we are _in love_ with one another, no?" she asked. Sarah nodded. "Then no. I am not in love with my Lord Davion, and neither is he in love with me. May I ask why you ask?"

Sarah recoiled a bit. This one-sided awkwardness was something she was never good at handling. Should she just tell her about what happened at the party? Would it matter?

"I was just...confused. I was talking with Davion at the party and...I realized I needed clarification..." she muttered. Mariella's brow softened.

"I see...I do hope I haven't done anything to fuel that confusion."

"I saw you two dancing at the party," Sarah stated. "You looked like you were enjoying yourself."

"Yes, I was. He told me you had recommended he make an appearance before me. That was much appreciated," she said, happily. If Sarah wasn't floating, she would have slouched or shrugged or something.

"So you guys really are just casual then? I don't need to rip him a new one for toying with young girls' hearts?" she asked, only half-sarcastically. Mariella snickered.

"Oh dear, I certainly hope not. I think there are very few girls who would knowingly give their hearts for my lord to toy with," she said. And there it was, the confirmation Sarah had been looking for.

"So you know then? You know what he's really like?"

"Really like?" she repeated. Sarah sighed.

"A..._trickster_," she said, through clenched teeth. "He's a two-faced no good player. You know that right?" Mariella furrowed her brow slightly.

"Well...when you put it like that...I suppose I ought to be ashamed for admitting it, but yes. Those who know my lord know...they know that he does not hide the fact that he is hiding," she said, smiling awkwardly as she tried to figure out whether or not she was trying to justify him. Sarah scowled and swam off to the side.

"At least you're aware," she grumbled, closing her eyes as she gently moved through the water. Mariella watched closely.

"I take it you yourself have also become aware...at the ball perhaps?" she inquired. Sarah quirked a brow but her eyes remained closed.

"Yeah. You could say that. Let's just say he did something incredibly stupid and unnecessary. And just like with his brother, it's solely up to me whether or not to forgive him."

Mariella frowned. She had a feeling he might pull something at the ball. She was still keeping her spying a secret, even though Jareth was already well aware. She began to wonder whether or not she had the confidence to tell Davion no. She was too busy worrying to notice Sarah dive under the surface, but caught her attention when she then popped up, unknowingly, right beside her.

"Ya know what? Forget about it. In the scope of things it really doesn't matter anyway," she said, wiping the water from her eyes and then startling back when she saw just how close she was to Marie and realized just how much she had changed. She tried not to gasp, but it was futile. She simply wasn't ready for it. While her stripes turned very quickly, the rest of her took some time, but now her entire body was that same eerie blue and her hair had even begun to pale just as she'd said. Mariella, perplexed, looked down over herself until she realized what Sarah's problem was.

"Oh, yes. Forgive me. I suppose it is a bit startling the first time."

"No, I'm sorry. I just wasn't expecting you to change so drastically while I was under water. Sorry if I offended you," she said, trying to keep her eyes from gawking. She looked completely different this way, but still just as beautiful. She could see how she could be such a successful courtesan.

"Never," Mariella said and lowered until her lips were level with the waters' surface. "I sometimes forget actually. Don't worry, just because you are a foreigner does not mean you are the first to be taken aback. There are many in Orpia who have never experienced one such as myself as well. I've learned to take pride in people's reactions," she said, watching as the ends of her hair slowly became white as they flowed about her.

There was silence for a moment, but Mariella didn't realize it was because Sarah had become greatly focused on her.

"Hey...can I ask you another question?"

Mariella peered up to find another look of discontent lain across Sarah's face.

"Anything. What is it?" she responded. Sarah too sank a little to be level with her.

"We've been talking a lot about your lineage and genealogy and stuff...it just got me thinking about something."

"What is it?"

"At the ball, something weird happened that's been bugging me. I've been meaning to do some digging in the library but maybe you might have some insights...It was when we were talking to the King and Queen of Meyhaven."

"Oh, I heard about that, or rather them. They try to maintain superiority over others, and so I hear they often speak in riddles," she said. Sarah nodded as she thought back.

"Yeah, well, maybe you can help me figure this one out. You know how Jareth and Roldan were saying how they're descended from an extinct race of elves?" she asked. Mariella nodded.

"Yes. Most Meyhavens are of very pure if not superlative descent. The royal family especially."

"Why do you say it's superlative?" Sarah asked. Mariella started swimming around the pool once more.

"Well, I only use superlative because it is a more ambiguous word. I suppose what I could say is omnipotent, divine even."

"There! Right there. What do you mean when you say divine? Ygdrain said the same thing when she was talking to Jareth. She kept referring to her and her husband as these celestial perfect creatures."

"Well, some of that I suppose is pride," Mariella said, switching to a backstroke. "The rest I suppose is true."

"True?"

"Why yes. Long ago there were only a handful of races and a select few of those that could be considered powerful by our standards. The species we have now evolved that way, but our beginning was far different."

"So...that clan of elves that they're mixed with...those were one of the select?"

"To my knowledge. However, as time goes on, such things as pure-bloods become fewer and fewer until there aren't enough left to support the bloodline. The Mey Clan, along with most other precursor species, went extinct long long ago."

Sarah scowled then, coming to the root of her intrigue.

"When Ygdrain was using words like divine and the like, she wasn't just talking about herself. She was referring to Jareth as well."

Mariella stopped then and glanced over to Sarah with surprise.

"What? Really?"

Sarah too glanced over and met her in the eye.

"Yeah...you wouldn't happen to know what Jareth is, would you?"

Mariella stared at her for a moment, her expression blank.

"I...I have no idea. I've always known His Majesty and Lord Davion's bloodline to be old and powerful, though I've never stopped to analyze it," she said, then looked to the ceiling as she pondered. "Did Queen Ygdrain say anything else peculiar by chance? Anything at all?" Sarah perked up a bit.

"Yes actually. She kept throwing around the word demon...except she pronounced it daemon...But then Jareth said there are no daemons..."

She noticed the way Mariella stopped moving just then and straightened until she floated vertically in the pool. She kept staring at the ceiling and then, as if a lightbulb had just gone off, smiled mischievously and lowered her eyes to Sarah's.

"She called him a Daemon? Are you sure?" she asked, suddenly giddy. Sarah scrunched her brow.

"Um, I think so...maybe."

Mariella pursed her lips and went back to pondering, double checking whatever facts were rolling around in her brain.

"Hm, that makes sense...actually, a lot of things make sense," she mumbled. Sarah drifted closer to her.

"What makes sense?" she asked. Mareilla turned to her with a smile.

"Looking back now it seems so obvious. And if Queen Ygdrain said it then it must be true. Oh my...He's probably part Daemon," she said, as if Sarah had any clue to what that meant.

"Okay, what is a Daemon?" she asked. Mariella leaned back until she rested against the rim of the pool. Her smile was too large for her own good.

"Actually Sarah, I believe you know them better than I do."

Sarah gaped.

"Huh?"

"Daemons...like the High Elves of Meyhaven, were a precursor race to this world. And they were said to be...very powerful. Like the Fae, they shared the ability to slip between worlds. And according to my knowledge, they made a second home out of yours."

"What?"

"I've heard they go by various names in your world...I believe you know them as Angels...or Gods."

Sarah just...

"...What."

"Yes...they took quite a fancy to being worshipped, toying with your _lesser_ species...I suppose they were quite cruel."

"Whoawhoawait. What do you mean gods and angels?" Sarah asked, raising a hand in the effort to slow things down. Mariella shrugged.

"...You're familiar with the literature of...oh let me try to remember -I believe it's called Greece- no? Perhaps?"

Sarah's expression on her turned ghastly.

"Stop it. Are you saying Jareth's ancestors were the Greek gods?" Sarah asked, appalled, baffled, just plain flabbergasted. In similar response to many of Sarah's reactions, Mariella appeared oblivious.

"Well, yes...but I'm thinking of one specifically."

That mousey tone of hers was begging to be prodded. Sarah felt no hesitation in taking her bait.

"One? Which one? What are you thinking?"

"Well...I also said they're known as Angels...that is because it is said that Daemons were winged."

Sarah stared intently. Why? Why was Mariella smiling like that?

"...Yeah? Your point?" she urged. Mariella crossed her arms, reveling in how much her taunting riled Sarah. It was so delightful.

"Well think about it Sarah. Daemons had wings, both His Majesty and Lord Davion's animal forms are birds. The owl and the hawk. The late king Thaelon was an eagle..."

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"And I have been wondering about those statues in the garden for quite some time."

"Statues?"

Sarah's excitement quelled then. Recalling those statues meant something very different for her than it did Mariella, for she knew why they were there. Jareth's first wife, Aurelia had commissioned them. Did Mariella know Jareth was married before? As she thought about it, she realized she might not. That all happened 300 years before Mariella was even born. She felt very grim all of the sudden. Should she reveal her hidden knowledge?

"Yes. I've been wondering, why depictions of Greek gods? Why gods from your world at all? We have plenty of our own mythos after all! However, everything fits together perfectly now. I can't believe I didn't realize it. Those statues aren't merely decretory, their commemorations! Oh isn't this fun?"

"Commemorations of what?" Sarah asked. Yes, Aurelia may have commissioned them, but Marie had a point. Was there a reason why they were commissioned in the first place?

"Why, His Majesty's ancestor of course."

Sarah scrunched her brow.

"And who is that?"

"Really Sarah, come now, don't be so obtuse. Who else could it be but Cupid himself?"

Sarah just...couldn't. There was a long heavy silence.

"...I don't know whether I should be appalled or laughing hysterically."

Mariella frowned.

"What? Why would you say that?"

Going for the latter, Sarah laughed and shook her head.

"Are you kidding me? You actually expect me to believe Cupid was real? That all of those stories are true? Even more, you want me to believe that Jareth, JARETH, is his descendant? That's ridiculous. That's just TOO perfect. And even if I did entertain this conspiracy theory, all of those stories are from three, four, five-thousand-some-odd years ago. Relatively speaking, that's barely a generation for your kind. It's simply-"

"Why? Because believing in all of this is any more absurd?" Mariella interjected, gesturing around the room. Sarah closed her mouth. She had a point there. "Just as you have your legends and folktales, so do we; and just as you have your history, so do we have our own. You may know him as Cupid, but he has gone by many different names. Believe me, he was real. Though we both know him as Eros."

"Eros?"

"Yes. Eros, according to your own world's mythology was a child of Chaos himself, thus one of the first pure supreme beings to be given form by Nature. -Of course, that is not true as he was a Daemon born in our world, but the renown of his people is just the same. You may mock him as little more than a cherubim of love but to us his people are of divine importance. And you know how differently time works between our two realms. While we say that time is nonexistent, it is in fact very relevant to us. In actuality, time in your world progresses much slower than in ours. So while it may have been a mere several thousands years in the Aboveground, here in the Underground it has been eons."

"Oh I...I didn't realize-"

"And that's not all! If Eros really is the ancestor of His Majesty's bloodline, then Queen Ygdrain would be right, he would be divine. Ah, wouldn't that be wonderful? It would explain so much-"

"So much? Aside from the statues? Like what?" Sarah asked, absently. She was still kinda bummed from the statues thing to bother playing into Mariella's ramblings.

"Well, his power for one."

"Power?"

"Why yes. I assume you've noticed how powerful the King of Goblins is? Even if you have not, I can assure you of his abilities. Having Daemon blood would explain it without question. Second would be their hair-"

"Their hair?"

"Yes. Aside from their wings, Daemons were marked by the fairness of their hair. I have seen portraits of Lord Davion's late family going back several generations and it always struck me that they all had the same fairness of hair. Now, this may be going a little too far, but don't you think it would also explain the brother's...well...dispositions?"

"Huh? What do you mean?" _And yes, I do think you're taking this a little too far..._

"Well, I've already mentioned the Daemon's inclination to torment and dominate. Not to mention that Eros himself was known to be particularly devilish-"

"Wait. Hold on there a minute- are you seriously trying to write off Jareth and Davion's warped sense morale and humor as genetic? Nuh-uh, no way."

Marie took a breath and held it, fighting her excitement, then sighed and rolled her eyes.

"_Okay, fine._ But still, you must admit it is a plausible theory."

"It is an interesting theory, I'll give you that."

  



	105. An Impregnable Defense part 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While unbeknown to her, Sarah has succeeded in obtaining the one thing the Goblin King has desired for hundreds of years -power over the Labyrinth. After being hidden for years from his diabolical wrath, Sarah finds herself alone and vulnerable as Jareth's dark desires are finally aloud to rear their ugly heads. As always, the only question is, are things really as they seem?

Ignoring Sarah's less than exuberant response, Mariella flopped back and splashed in the water.

"Oh, but what if? This is so invigorating! Just think of the possibilities! Think of the prestige your children would have! Even just the possibility of inheriting Daemon blood let alone an infamous name! Oh I know it's probably nothing more than my silly fantasies running wild, but I shall have to ask Lord Davion the next time I see him...Say, why don't you try asking His Majesty? I don't think this is something he would mind bragging about."

There was a delay before Sarah's attention could catch up to Mariella's fervid excitement.

"Wait. Huh? What?"

Standing deadpanned in the middle of the pool, Sarah simply wasn't capable of reciprocating Mariella's earnestness, and now she'd gone and said something hasty...

"You are interested, aren't you? Even if you do end up proving me wrong?"

Now disturbed by something Mariella hadn't realized she'd said, Sarah turned away and crossed her arms. _Does she even know what she just said?_

"I don't know about that. I tried asking him before and he just kind of snickered and brushed it off."

"Yes but that was at the celebration wasn't it? That may not be something he would want to air amongst so many peers. It would be rather rude after all. But, you have been getting along since then haven't you? You've seemed to be rather cordial...Perhaps he would tell you if you simply asked?"

"_Pf,_ cordial?"

"Why yes, I would say. You haven't been distressed or in any arguments that I'm aware of...you've been given a break from Master Roldan's lessons and you even dined alone in your room together last night-" Now that earned a reaction. Sarah's chest puffed up as she turned to Marie with a reflexive glare. _Stop. Just stop._

"Okay. Okay, fine," Sarah said, bating the girl just enough to compose herself. "Maybe I'll just ask him...to get you off my back if nothing else," she added, looking down into the water as she spoke.

"Good. I'll be looking forward to it then," Mariella said, eyeing her carefully as she stared into the water. She seemed uncomfortable now, perhaps she was mistaken? "Will you?" she asked. Sarah peered up.

"What?"

"Be looking forward to it?" she clarified. A mild blush warmed Sarah's cheeks. Mariella stifled a smile. "You see...I keep saying that you _seem_ to be getting along, but you haven't yet confirmed it. Things have been quiet so I haven't felt need to inquire, but are things well?"

Sarah scrunched her brow as she thought over Mariella's question. Were things well? It was true that they hadn't argued, but it was also true that they hadn't seen enough of each other to argue and part of that was her own doing. There'd been a lot on her mind the morning after the ball and she couldn't lie that the way she'd been acting since then was in the effort to distract herself from it.

She caved when he carried her into the bathroom and had been berating herself over it ever since. She was quiet on the way back to the castle, though her unease could have easily been mistaken as contentment. Jareth, oblivious, had left to see to his kingly duties shortly after their return and while Mariella was also right in that they did have dinner together, it was simply that. She was starting to get nervous, nervous about being alone with him. The prospect of children had never bothered her the way it did now. Maybe it was because it wasn't all so hypothetical anymore. She simply couldn't help thinking about it -all the time. Not necessarily the fear of an unexpected pregnancy, but the fear of confronting Jareth about it. How backwards was that?

She'd run through the scenario in a hundred different ways and yet she still had no idea how to go about it. _The Talk_. Dear Lord.

Maybe she was over-analyzing it. Maybe it wasn't as ridiculous as she was making it out to be. Jareth could be rational. He might understand... She shook her head incredulously at those thoughts. No. There was no way this was going to go smoothly. And so she had sat across from Jareth, eating her meal silently, hounding herself over and over to say something, to break the ice, to just get it all out in the open. It didn't happen of course. No, instead she'd said she wasn't feeling well and wanted to go to bed early. Respecting her request, Jareth had left without a fuss and to her it seemed sex was making him all the more docile. She was terrified of him touching her now, not because she didn't want him to but because she wanted him too badly. If she was to have any type of conviction in herself she needed to be able to resist him, she needed to be able to put her foot down. It was getting harder to do that when he acted so sweet and charming. Maybe she should just cut herself off. It would resolve the risk instantly. Maybe he would even go back to being awful. Maybe then she wouldn't be so tempted.

She sighed then. This was getting ridiculous. None of that was going to happen. None of that was going to happen because she was going to buck up and be a big girl and just talk to him. She was all about facing him as an equal right?

Her mind drifted back to find herself still staring into the water. She knotted her fingers, noticing the way the water had pruned them. That's right, Mariella had asked her a question. Were things well?

"Um, yeah," she said, shrugging awkwardly. "No complaints within the past two days I guess. But, it's not like that's some great feat. He's been busy most of the time...You were with me, when we got back to the castle he went straight off to catch up on whatever it was he had missed. We had dinner yes but...it was just dinner. I haven't even seen him once today actually..." Her voice trailed off along with her thoughts. That's right, she hadn't seen him yet today. It was nice to not have to get up and report to Roldan, however that meant she had to provide her own distractions. When would she see him next? Would she have to go to him? The prospect made her anxious and she knew she couldn't keep living like this. If he had no idea what was bothering her it could come up at a _less than desirable_ time. No...she needed to do this on her own terms; that meant inevitably being the one to go to him. Damn it. This was going to be awkward...

"Sarah? Is something the matter?"

Sarah peered up, not realizing she had been grimacing into her own reflection in the water.

"Huh? Oh um, no...No, I just remembered something..." she said, then immediately plastered a big fake smile across her face. "Hey, what about the story?" she asked, deflecting terribly.

"What story?" Marie asked.

"The one about Cupid. Cupid and Psyche. I thought she was a nymph or a human, how could he be Jareth's plausible ancestor?" she asked, her stupid smile starting to strain. Mariella tilted her head as she regarded her. Did she say something to bother her? Hmm...

"Because Psyche was a Fae," she said.

"What?"

"Mhm. In the beginning, the Fae were not so evolved. We had few powers and in all actuality, were little more than humans ourselves. The only thing that separated us was our adeptness for gathering magic. Nymphs at that time...sadly were more animal than anything else. It was said that Eros had taken a Fae woman for his mate, as had many Daemons, and interest in this eventually sparked the Fae's habit of expanding the gene pool, furthering their own race by combining with many others. It is said that those of Daemon blood are exceptionally powerful, because one species compensated for the weakness of the other," she explained.

"What weakness was that?" Sarah asked. Her eagerness betrayed her, as it was hollow as ever. Mariella's expression started to lose some of its cheer.

"While Daemons were powerful, they did not have the same longevity that we possess. By combining the two races, a being was produced thought to have infinite power as well as infinite life. This then became the standard, and in only a thousand years or so, pure-blooded Daemons were considered obsolete and thus became extinct."

"Oh.." Sarah mumbled, apparently growing in concern towards the state of her wrinkling fingertips. Mariella pursed her lips. Something had soured Sarah's mood and she wanted to know what.

"I see your skin is becoming a bit shriveled. Is it time for us to get out?" she suggested.

"Oh. Um, yeah, sure. I was here for a while before you arrived...and I don't think my body is meant to handle water the way yours is," she said, wringing excess water from her hair as she moved towards the edge. "You can come here when ever you want though. I don't want you to feel like you need to ask for permission, okay?" she asked, hoisting herself onto the ledge and reaching for a towel she'd left close by. Mariella did the same.

"That is most generous of you. Thank you for the consideration," she said while patting herself dry. Sarah tried not to stare at the way her skin turned back to normal.

"Say..." Sarah said. Mariella turned to give her attention. "About this whole Cupid/Jareth thing...You don't actually think that might be true, do you?"

"I don't see why not. Although, I suppose I was getting a bit carried away at the end. Why do you look so concerned?"

"Oh, I'm not. I'm just...I was just thinking about what you said. About how our kids would have a lot of prestige if that were true. It makes me wonder...why he would bring someone like me into his bloodline...if it's so important."

"Perhaps it's not."

"Huh?"

"Perhaps the reason His Majesty does not speak of his bloodline is because he considers it an unimportant factor."

"But I thought Fae mixed species in order to gain attributes? Isn't he losing something by marrying me?"

"Losing something?"

"Yeah. I mean...I don't have magic. I don't have any special qualities that are worth investing in..."

"Special qualities worth investing in? Oh my, Sarah, is that what you really think?" Sarah peered over, curious of Mariella's tone. She was stifling a smile by the time their eyes met.

"Yes? I mean, I keep hearing about conquest marriages but I don't understand why they would be so interested in humans." Sarah said, then leaned forward to dry her hair with her towel.

"Oh, I thought that was obvious..." Mariella said. Sarah peered over out of the corner of her eye. "Fae are interested in humans for their fertility."

Sarah froze and her eyes, hidden behind her towel, widened significantly.

"What?"

"I thought you were aware. I could have sworn this was mentioned before...Species originating in this world have always tended to be on the infertile side-"

"Yes. I know that," Sarah interrupted, her nerves over this topic starting to annoy her. Marie however, failed to pick up on it.

"Well, for whatever reason, pairings between human and Fae tend to be much more...prolific," she said. Sarah cringed.

"I see...one species compensating for the other's weakness right? One has magic, one has offspring. Makes sense..." Her toes curled as she spoke, shifting uncomfortably on the tile. Mariella leaned forward to try to get a better look at her face. "So...is that it then?" she asked, not realizing it had been out loud. Mariella tilted her head.

"Is what it?"

"The reason," Sarah said, pulling the towel from her head and taking a deep breath as she shrugged. "The reason Jareth's marrying me. It's to have kids then? I mean, five-hundred years and still no heir? Makes sense." With her brow deeply furrowed and her jaw tensed, it was clear her mind was now cast far away.

Was that really it? For all the non-reasons he gave her, did it really boil back down to this? Was she here for no other reason than to birth his heirs? Thinking back, it almost made sense. The way he pushed his sexuality onto her in the beginning. The way he cared about her without caring about _her_. She hoped that wasn't the case, she hoped it was something more, something else entirely. But if it were, how the hell was she supposed to have the courage to ask him for contraception? Fuck. She was getting nervous just sitting there thinking about it. But at the same time, he'd never brought up children once, never even alluded to that being her role. How did he actually feel about it? Especially given the fact that he'd lost his first child so tragically...And even if that was his sole intention in the beginning, a lot had changed since then, right? Right? Was it enough?

"Well I wouldn't say that..."

"What?"

Sarah glanced up at Mariella as if startled that she was still there. Marie's brow rose at how skittish she had become. What on earth could she be thinking about?

"Although I don't know explicitly, I wouldn't say that is the reason His Majesty chose you," she clarified. Sarah wrapped her towel around herself and hugged her knees.

"You just said you don't know, so how can you say that? It makes sense, doesn't it?"

"Makes sense? It makes sense that he would chose a human for that purpose, but not you specifically. If that was what he wanted he could chose any human woman, right?" she asked. Sarah was silent. "Have you asked him?"

"Countless times actually, but he never gives me a real answer...he either says something crude or changes the subject..." she mumbled, resting her chin at the top of her knees. Mariella frowned. How strange.

"Perhaps it's something he isn't comfortable talking about?" she suggested. Sarah scoffed immediately.

"_Pf_, seriously? I doubt it. I'm starting to think he simply doesn't have a reason. He told me he had me run the Labyrinth because he was bored and then just up and decided he wanted to keep me. It's sad, but a part of me believes that."

"Really? And what's wrong with that?" Marie asked. Sarah glanced up. "That just means he's marrying you for another reason entirely." Sarah scrunched her brow.

"What reason would that be?"

"Would it be so ludicrous to say it's something as simple as familiarity?"

"Familiarity?"

"Yes. Are you aware that he fancies you? All the qualities you've stated you don't have: magic, culture, legacy, well none of those things actually have anything to do with _you_, do they? You made it sound so mundane just now, but to me it sounds like he made his decision after meeting you, after interacting with you. It's ridiculous I know, but maybe he just_ likes_ you. "

Sarah pouted as she stared at the floor. Mariella was right, maybe it was just that simple. But she just couldn't accept that. Why did it bother her so much? Why did she want there to be some grand epic reason behind it all? Maybe it would help justify all the craziness that happened to her. Maybe it was because she couldn't shake her suspicion of all his scheming. Maybe she was just a dramatic person. Or maybe because deep down she had a feeling that there really was something more, that there really was something going on that she was a part of. But why did she feel that way? She just had no idea...

"...Yeah...maybe you're right. Maybe I'm just reading too much into things..." she said with a shrug.

"If you spend your time worrying over unknowns, how can you ever appreciate the things you do know?" Mariella asked. Sarah stared blankly. "Have you ever tried thinking about that instead? The things that you do know?"

_The things that I do know? What do I know?_ Things she knew about Jareth? About why she was here? About their relationship? She knew little about the first, nothing about the second. The third however...What did she know? She knew that things were good. Well, better than they had ever been. And she knew that was a very delicate thing. She knew that in a way they complimented each other, just as they opposed. She knew that deep down they were actually very similar people. She was still upset about everything that had happened, everything that had led up to this point; however, she also knew that all of that wasn't enough to smite the feelings she fought not to have, and she knew they were going to be the death of her. She knew that she wanted something more, that in the long run she wanted everything to work out; but at the same time she felt obligated to make that journey a difficult one, to make him struggle and punish him in whatever small amount she could along the way, even if that meant harming herself. She knew that was tedious and at times felt pointless in the end. She knew that was spiteful, and she knew that was a grudge she wasn't sure was worth holding onto anymore.

"Well, since I can see you're pondering that deeply, should I have lunch prepared?"

Sarah broke out of her daze to find Mariella watching her patiently. How long had she been zoning out? She moved to her feet and held the towel around her tighter.

"Oh. Um. Actually...no. I have some things to do," she said, a phrase catching them both off guard.

"Really?" Mariella asked.

"Yeah...I just remembered that I have to talk to Jareth about something." she said, that pensive look never deeper. Mariella tilted her head as she inspected it. "I don't know how long I'll be, so don't wait up. I'll come to you if I need anything. Otherwise, you're free to take the rest of the day off," she said. This time Mariella was the one to frown.

"Are you sure?"

"Mhm...I'm gonna go take a shower first...but I'll see you later?"

Sarah turned back with a reassuring smile as they went towards the door, and then held it out for Mariella as they passed into the hall.

"Very well. If you should desire my company, don't hesitate to summon me," Mariella said and took an awkward step in the opposite direction. She stopped however, regretting whatever funk her earlier excitement must have put her in. "And I do hope that whatever's troubling you isn't too serious," she said. Sarah too stopped and turned back to her. "You've seemed happier recently. I wish for that to continue."

Sarah's eyes darted to the floor reflexively, almost as if she were ashamed someone else had noticed. She recovered quickly however and shot her another smile.

"Thanks...but don't worry, it's nothing really. Just something stupid that will probably get blown out of proportion...like always, _heh_..." she laughed awkwardly and scratched the back of her head. "Well...see you later then."

With that Sarah turned and started to walk away, but glanced back to give her a final farewell.

"Wish me luck okay?"

Her smile was much more genuine then, bringing some ease to Mariella's concern. She too smiled and gave a deep nod.

"Always."

  



	106. An Impregnable Defense part 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While unbeknown to her, Sarah has succeeded in obtaining the one thing the Goblin King has desired for hundreds of years -power over the Labyrinth. After being hidden for years from his diabolical wrath, Sarah finds herself alone and vulnerable as Jareth's dark desires are finally aloud to rear their ugly heads. As always, the only question is, are things really as they seem?

Sarah gave a heavy sigh and closed her eyes as she walked the lonely path back to her room. She felt like an idiot. Why the hell did she have to get all weird back there? Poor Marie. It felt like every time they had a conversation it turned into something broody. And here she was thinking an afternoon at the pool would be simple and carefree.

_It would have been fine if she didn't bring up Goddamn babies... _-is what she told herself. Had she really been suppressing that much anxiety over the issue that it came trickling out at the mere mention of it? God, this was stupid. She wasn't even worried over pregnancy itself, which she should have been. No, what she was so damn strung out over was this stupid talk. Why did she feel so apprehensive about it? Was she feeling guilty? Did some part of her think it was wrong of her? Or was she just afraid of Jareth's reaction?

She shook her head and grumbled as she entered her room, stalking towards the bathroom for the quickest shower in her life. She was irritated now and, after her bath, forced herself to just sit for a moment and take a deep breath.

What she needed to do was formulate a plan. Jareth may be a control freak but he could also be easily manipulated with the right cues. Firstly, she needed to get rid of this irritation. She was going to him after all. She was asking him for something, and she needed to be able to play into that. She couldn't just go stomping in there and demand anything. God, she didn't even want to think how that scenario would end. No, she would appease his ego. She would go in there as simply ask. She would present her case honestly and wait for his verdict. If he said no then...then what? Would she get defensive? Would she panic? Would she simply leave? She couldn't think that far ahead, but what was more important right now was figuring out where he even was in the first place.

She let out another heavy sigh as she stood before her dressers. Should she really be putting thought into what she wore? Would he see through her? She realized that he probably would. After all, he had psycho-analyzed her preference for pants like it was nothing at all. And it was true, she did feel more secure in that than wearing a skirt. -He had an eye for things like that. Therefore...if she didn't wear a dress he would definitely know something was up. Ugh, she was making things complicated again.

She'd gotten dressed, combed her hair, but it wasn't until she'd painted half her face that she realized what she was doing. She stopped dead and stared into the mirror. Applying make-up had once been so natural to her. After coming here she'd been willfully abstaining from doing so...Did what happened just now mean anything?

She left that question unanswered and proceeded to finish with her mascara. A little of that couldn't hurt right? He wouldn't think she was getting dolled up for some reason...right? All this paranoia made her sad, for after seeing her reflection the night of the ball, remembered how nice it felt to be pretty and quite frankly, she wanted to be pretty. She stared at herself in the mirror a little longer, contemplating whether or not it was worth the risk. _Too bad. Maybe he just won't notice, let alone read into it._

She found herself in the hallway again in no time and stood silently as she pondered which way to go. There were just too many rooms in the castle to check, and that was assuming Jareth was even in the castle. She almost asked herself the,_ if I were Jareth where would I be?_ question, but felt too ridiculous to even fully formulate the thought.

With no better idea, she resigned to an aimless walk through the halls. There were plenty of stops she could have made, the throne room, his room, the library, the study, but she didn't want to go to any of them. As she walked, she quickly realized she was blatantly delaying herself. She stopped then and closed her eyes as she took a deep breath. She needed to get her shit together.

She opened her eyes at the sound of scurrying and saw a waiter Goblin briskly bustling a ways ahead of her. She reached out a hand and called out to it.

"Um, excuse me?" she asked, hoping the little fellow wouldn't be too offended it had been acknowledged. The Goblin stopped, lurching to a halt so suddenly it almost dropped the stack of books it was carrying. By this time Sarah had moved closer to it, though kept a healthy distance away. "Um, I'm sorry for interrupting you, but..."

The Goblin turned and looked up to her, and then its eyes widened with fear after realizing who it was that had called him. In a dramatic gesture, the creature threw itself into a bow, the force of which casting stray papers from its stack up into the air. Sarah worried her brow, then. This poor creature was even more anxious than she was.

"F-Forgive me, Your Majesty! I did nots know it was you," it said, startling itself once again after realizing some of its papers had fallen. It began to grumble and reach out for the wayward papers as it chastised itself over and over. Sarah's worried brow turned to a frown and she knelt down to help relax the poor creature.

"It's okay, you don't have to apologize. Here, let me help you-"

She offered a paper out to the Goblin, whose eyes then rose and beamed at her with even more horror.

"Oh, no! No, no no! Please, do not concern yourself withs me, Majesty," it said, shaking its head profusely in shame that the Queen had knelt before a mere servant.

"Say, what's your name?" Sarah asked. The Goblin stilled, fighting against the urge to look up at her once more, and recoiled into itself as if it knew something awful were coming.

"G-G-Gorbulk, Your Majesty."

"It's nice to meet you Gorbulk. My name is Sarah. You can look at me, you know. You're not in trouble."

The Goblin's shivering started to settle then, and gradually it began to look up to her, fear now replaced with disbelief and sheer amazement.

"Y-You're not?" it asked. Sarah gave it a smile and, while it was still in a state of shock, finished gathering the rest of the scattered papers.

"Why would you be? You've done nothing wrong," she said. The Goblin started fidgeting again.

"But...you called out to me," it said, lowering its stare to the floor.

"I know, and I'm sorry for that. I didn't mean to startle you, but I'm in need of assistance and you're the first person I've seen," she explained. The Goblin gulped and peered up to her, its deep puppy-dog eyes warming her heart.

"R-Really? You need my help?" it asked, apparently deeply moved by the fact. Sarah nodded and rose to her feet.

"Mhm. I'm looking for the King, you wouldn't happen to know where he is, do you?" she asked, recalling the last time she and Mariella had gone out looking for him and thus considered rephrasing her question.

"Actually...I was on my ways to him just now," Gorbulk said. Sarah's eyes lit up with the surprise of her good luck and she leaned forward to be on a more even level with him.

"Really? Could you take me to him?" she asked. The little Goblin started to fidget again, only now it was bashful. The Queen was smiling at him. She was smiling because he had helped her. Even if he were more coherent, he still wouldn't be able to express how deeply that affected him. Standing a bit more proudly, Gorbulk turned and gestured down the hall.

"Of course. He's off in the big library. The one with all those books," he said, then gestured towards the stack he held. "He wanted these from the small one, with the other books."

Sarah smiled at the way he spoke, but deep down a pool of anxiety was beginning to form. She was using this conversation as a distraction and indeed it was working, but for how long she didn't know. Of course he would be in the library. He always worked in the library, and in actuality that was where she was heading towards all along.

"I see..." she mumbled, her eyes staring off ahead. "Say, would it be okay if I took those to him?" she asked, effectively catching him off guard. He struggled to answer, not sure what he was supposed to do.

"Erm...the Queen shoulds not carries out the tasks of a servant...but, I cans not refuse her requests," it said, then held out the stack of books to her. It darted its face away as she took them, thinking it might be some kind of trick.

"Thank you," she said, securing the bundle in both arms. This was good. Now she could say she had an excuse to go see him. Holding these books felt like a shield, one that she was more than thankful for. "I am in you debt Gorbulk," she said, with a bit of honest cheer. The Goblin's eyes went wide again and nearly convulsed with the amazement of being bestowed such an honor.

"N-Never, Your Majesty! I am in debts! I mean, I ams in your debts! Thanks yous!"

It started bouncing, actually bouncing, and then, with a big stupid smile, bowed so low its head nearly smacked off the floor before it scurried away out of sight. Sarah stared after it for a moment, puzzled by its reaction, then with a half smile, shook her head and carried on her merry way.

* * *

As expected, the door to the "big library" was closed, leaving Sarah to stand awkwardly before it as she tried to figure out how best to juggle the, really quite hefty, stack of books while reaching out for the handle. She managed to turn the nob but had to use her shoulder to shove it open. She felt bad for Gorbulk then. If she was having a hard time with this, she could only imagine the difficulty such a small Goblin would have.

She kept her eyes on the floor as she leaned back against the door to push it shut.

"Well it's about time. You're lucky I don't have you flogged for keeping me waiting."

She looked straight up at Jareth, but immediately realized his words were not meant for her. Well, now Gorbulk's mannerisms made a bit more sense.

He didn't look up and thus didn't know it was she who had come through the door. She just stood there, like an idiot, staring at him from across the room. He was at his desk, like always, with charts and spreadsheets messily lain about the desktop. He sighed with irritation then and glared up, a look that did a complete 180 after realizing who he had been scolding. Sarah gulped and held onto the books a little tighter.

"Well, isn't this unexpected?" he said, his brow scrunching as he did a quick double-take. His scowl had turned to a smile, one that curled more on one side, and he leaned back as he pushed away from the desk.

She registered his movement as a gesture to stand and quickly approached him. She had a feeling this conversation would go better if he was sitting. As desired, he paused in his efforts and remained seated.

"I brought your books," she said, without preamble, and moved stiffly as she dropped them on the desk. Shit. She'd just given up her shield hadn't she? Goddamn it. Jareth eyed her curiously, his smile ever playful.

"I can see that..." he said, easing back in his chair as he ran his eyes over her. "What, did my Goblin defect?"

Sarah began to run a hand up and down one arm but then reminded herself not to come off as nervous.

"No...I saw him in the hall and figured I'd help him out. He seemed pretty frazzled," she said. Jareth's smile settled to a grin.

"Of course he was. You were making him late," he said, jokingly. Sarah crossed her arms over her chest.

"With fear of corporal punishment no doubt," she said, disapprovingly, then looked around for any nearby chairs. Spotting one, she moved to pull in near. Jareth's eyes on her were inquisitive. So she was planning to stay?

"They are simple minded creatures. Physical threats are something they can understand."

"And I don't suppose it would be a waste of my time to ask that you not?" she asked, setting down the heavy wooden chair with a thud at the front of the desk.

"Not threaten them or not punish them?" he replied. Both Sarah's arms and legs crossed as she became situated in her seat.

"Both?"

"If they believe my threats there will be less of a need to punish them. But for them to believe my threats, I must of course-"

"Punish them?"

"Precisely."

His tone was still playful as he spoke, his eyes so alight with the delight that her surprise visit brought him. Sarah on the other hand was doing her best to mask her tension, which of course only made her more tense.

After reveling in his cheerfulness for just a moment longer, he looked away from her and back to his work.

"So, is there a reason for your visit? Or did you simply desire the pleasure of my company?" he asked. Sarah's fingers started to knot.

"Isn't that a reason in and of itself?" she asked. Jareth's scribbling stopped then and there was a flash of a smile on his face.

"That is true," he said, resuming his writing.

It was quiet for a moment. Sarah stared at him, her eyes roaming all over him. He seemed in a good enough mood...cheerful even. She felt even worse now, realizing she was probably going to rip that mood to shreds in only another minute or two. Oh well. There was no helping it.

"So...what are you working on?" she asked, hoping to break the ice. Jareth sighed and rummaged through some documents.

"A contract with Faris...the one I mentioned at the ball?" he said, his attention still focused on his work. Sarah frowned and looked into her lap. She was starting to feel guilty now.

"Oh...I see."

"And how have you been spending your day?" he asked, so gosh darn complacent. God. His cheerfulness was only making this harder.

"I went swimming with Marie..." she mumbled. Jareth paused for a moment.

"Swimming?"

Sarah bit her lip.

"Yeah...in the pool...the one you conjured for me...remember?" And then it clicked. He nodded and went back to writing.

"Ah, yes. I'd forgotten about that."

There was another silence. It should have been peaceful. It should have been nice. It was a beautiful day outside, the light was shining through and brought a pleasant breeze with it. It reflected Jareth's mood perfectly. Sarah's squirming had become unbearable.

"Actually...there is a reason I came to see you...I wanted to talk to you about something..."

Again Jareth paused, though this time he went as far as to look up to her. His expression was open, but curious.

"And what would that be?" he asked, meaning to come off as welcoming, though only succeeded in putting Sarah on the spot. She began to shift her feet uncomfortably.

"Um...it's something that's been on my mind for a while now actually...I just don't have the confidence...I mean- I don't know how to go about talking about it," she said. Jareth's eyes became more attentive then. He'd been picking up on all her nervous mannerisms since she came in, though he'd assumed it was merely because she didn't want to admit she had wanted to see him. He too sat up a little straighter.

"And yet you came to me anyway," he said, testing the waters. Sarah fought against the tension threatening to worry her brow.

"Well...yeah. I have to...and besides...you told me that if I wanted something all I had to do was ask...that I should come to you if I want something..." she said, knowing full well he probably wasn't referring to this specific request when he had said those words. Jareth placed his pen down now and gave her his full attention. She looked deeply vexed. Whatever attempt she made at concealing such was failing miserably. He wondered what in the world could be troubling her when she had been so happy these past few days.

"What is it that you want?" he asked, warily. Sarah tensed again, then let out a deep breath.

"I want to talk to you...about something...important." She took another deep breath and held it, feigning conviction as she sat straight.

"What is it?" Jareth asked again, his stare on her steadily becoming more and more focused. She bit her cheek and looked off to the side.

"Um, we've been having a lot of sex lately," she said, completely shifting directions. Jareth drew his brow on her.

"I wouldn't say a lot, but okay."

She shot him an eye.

"It's been like...once or twice a day," she said, emitting disbelief against his impassive stare.

"Yes, I am aware," he said, which only had Sarah huffing. She couldn't tell if he was being serious or not. Serious. He was probably serious.

"Well, that may not be a lot for you but for me it's..." She looked back down into her lap once more and sagged her shoulders. "It's worrying."

Jareth cocked a curious brow.

"Worrying?" he asked, watching her closely as she sighed heavily.

"Yes, worrying. We've been doing it a lot and I have a feeling we plan to keep on doing it a lot and-"

"I'm glad you feel that way," he interjected, trying and failing to lighten the mood. Sarah was not having any of it. She just stared at him and he knew that things were about to get serious.

"So we've been doing it a lot and I wanted to talk to you about maybe using...protection."

She didn't realize she'd said that with her eyes closed, but was too aware upon opening them. She felt like she was sitting on pins and needles. Her hands gripped the seat of her chair tightly and she gulped down the waver in her voice.

Jareth's stare on her was a complete contrast to what it was before. It was rigid and piercing. She bit her lip again as she held that stare and let herself stew in the silence that then spread.

"...Protection?" Jareth said, that one word carrying a definite sting. Sarah kept her eyes from his.

"Well...yeah. I mean, you guys have such things as condoms here right? You could start wearing those...But even so-"

Jareth's brow rose significantly.

"You want me to what?"

"I don't really expect you to wear one though!" she said hastily, wanting the chance to get it all out now before shit hit the fan. "But there are other ways...like birth control. Do you have something like that here? I think a contraceptive is something I'd rather have anyway..." She started to ramble, her legs squirming about beneath the cover of the desk. She could feel a heat in her cheeks and hoped to God her face wasn't turning red.

Jareth was quiet. He didn't say a word nor move an inch. She wouldn't look up, but could feel his gaze on her. She was terrified to meet it. It would tear her to shreds.

"I know that I'm asking a lot...I'm aware that it kinda goes against the law of the land and everything, but-"

"Stop."

As commanded, Sarah stopped dead. Gripping her chair so tightly her fingers were turning white, she peered up and shriveled under his gaze.

His stare on her was icy and full of something awful. He tore it away soon after she looked up however and began to stand from his seat.

"This conversation is over," he said and she too began to rise to her feet.

"But-"

"Enough!"

Both on their feet, they stood frozen standing off against one another. Jareth's head was lowered and his hand cast out to her to emphasize his command. Sarah fisted her hands at her sides and fought for conviction.

"I just want to talk about it," she said, so proud that she had come this far without breaking down or getting angry. The hand Jareth held out withdrew to become a fist at his side. There was a darkness to him now. He was angry. Very angry.

"There's nothing to talk about," he said and went to storm away from her. She stopped him by lunging forward and pulling on the sleeve of his coat.

"Nothing for you maybe. But can't you at least listen to what I have to say?"

She watched Jareth's fists tighten and she knew he was restraining himself from lashing out at her.

"I already know what you're going to say," he said, his jaw tensed.

"And what would that be?"

"You don't want to have my children. That's what this is about isn't it? It was something one could have easily assumed, but thank you for taking the time to throw it in my face."

He tore his arm away from her grasp and took another step forward, but being at his back helped to give her determination. She'd come this far, she would not let this opportunity go to waste.

"That's not what I was going to say at all," she said, her voice raising against her will. Jareth turned and glared down at her.

"But it is true nonetheless, is it not?" His response was even louder than hers and she recoiled from the hostility in it. It surprised her honestly, he'd become so defensive so quickly and she couldn't help but wonder why. She did hold his stare however, hoping something in her eyes would help him to understand.

"No, it's not. Don't go assuming things just because of your own insecurities," she said -maybe not the best response.

"_Tch._" He sneered and turned away from her again but she held onto his arm a little tighter.

"It has nothing to do with having your kids. It's about having kids in general!" She pulled on him and he gave in to look down on her. "Do you really think I'm ready to be a mother? Because I don't."

"There are women who birth children in their early teens. I think your body can handle-"

"That's not what it's about Jareth! It doesn't matter if I'm physically capable. I'm not nearly mentally or emotionally ready to be a mom. Can you really not understand that? I should be just graduating from high school for Christ's sake!"

"You will have plenty of assistants, mentoring and round the clock care for both you and any possible offspring." His eyes on her were so hard, his resolve solid. She started shaking her head and pulled on his sleeve.

"Jareth, you're not listening to me. I am marrying you. I have accepted that. And that means that one day I will have children with you. But that is one day. Why does it have to be now?" He huffed and turned away again, though she didn't realize it was because of something other than anger. In the effort to stop him from leaving, she started rambling once more. "I'm still getting used to being here okay? I don't think I could handle another major change in my life, especially that. Don't you get it? I-I want to raise my children right and I can't do that the way things are now. I don't know enough about your species, about your culture, about my role here, their role. I don't want to just give birth, I want to be a real mom, so please just give me some time to better myself. It has nothing to do with you. Please just take the time to try and see that." Her eyes were squeezed tight as she spoke, her body tense as if expecting a firm backhand, but she relaxed when she was given no response. She opened her eyes and saw he was just standing there. His back was still to her but he did nothing to remove himself from the now desperate grip she had on his arm. She could see a glimpse of his profile from behind his hair and he looked...so sad. Downright heartbroken. While she didn't like seeing that look on him, it had been enough to calm the air between them and she intended to take full advantage of it. "I told you, it's not like I don't want to have them just because you would be the father...I would just like some time to acclimate, to try to enjoy and become a part of this world -with you. I'm not asking for much time, a year, maybe two. That's it. That's like a blink for you, isn't it?"

Her voice was full of hope, hope which crumbled to bits when she noticed the way his fists had tightened at his sides.

"No Sarah, I think it is _you_ who doesn't understand." He turned to face her then, whatever look of hurt she had once seen now replaced with firm ire. "The amount of time or your convenient precedents have nothing to do with it. You are going to become a Queen. You have one obligation. One. And it is the most important contribution one could possibly make to this kingdom. I am a King. I also have an obligation to fulfill. You're asking me to go against what is expected of me, _my word, my precedents_. It's blatant sacrilege. You've learned of our culture, you know the gravity of the blasphemies of which you speak -if word ever got out, if there were even rumors- not to mention the insult you've just bestowed me as a man, your husband and your King. You come in here and ask me to render our union impotent and you think I won't be upset let alone concede?"

Sarah gulped hard then. She had been psyching herself up for this argument all week.

"No Jareth. No, I knew exactly how upset this would make you. That's why I've been so hesitant to ask. And that is because I do understand. I know what it means for me to ask this of you and I know what it would mean if you were to say yes. But this isn't about you. It's not about your pride. It's not about me hurting your feelings. It's about me. I came to you as an equal, to be honest with you and express to you my problems knowing full well you probably wouldn't respond in my favor. But I did it anyway because I'd rather voice myself to you and be denied than bottle it up and live with the stress of it and end up resenting you even more because of it. If you deny me, I understand, and there's nothing I can do about it, so don't turn your back on me without at least hearing me out." She let go of his arm then and took a step back. His eyes caught on the empty space between them. "However, the fact remains, I'm no longer comfortable being intimate with you while there's a chance I could become pregnant at this point in time...I may be marrying you, but this is still my body and I'll decide what I do with it. If you can't accept that then you can either leave me alone or have your way without my consent."

He rose his brow at her audacity.

"Oh, so this is an ultimatum?" he said, going on the defensive. Staring at her face aggravated him, but he found he could not look away.

"Only if you see it that way. Is fucking me really that important to you? You didn't have a problem touching me however you wanted before, I suppose it wouldn't be any different now."

The hint of an incredulous smile that had been making its way to Jareth's expression now faded to a thin line. He didn't like the way she threw that time around in his face like that. And the fact that she'd been waiting for the most opportune moment to do so didn't help.

"Goad me all you want. My answer is no."

His stare on her was consuming. He'd become so blindsided by this argument that he hadn't actually had the chance to think about it. He was offended more than anything else. He'd assumed she would be against children, however he'd never really stopped to consider that even being a realistic prospect. More than anything he wanted her out of his face. He couldn't think when she stared at him like that.

Finally breaking free of her gaze, he turned away from her and headed back to his desk.

"One or two years you say? As if I had expected anything within such an unrealistic time frame," he said, throwing himself back into his chair. Sarah stared at him in confusion. "It took over ten years for Aurelia and I to conceive our first child, and believe me, _we _were doing it_ a lot_."

Sarah did well to conceal the twitch in her brow that betrayed her just then. His words cut her and it was clear he had intended them to. She always thought she'd done rather well in hiding the odd sense of jealously that arose with thoughts of he and Aurelia, but apparently he knew better. He was sitting at his desk now, feigning to resume his work and his dismissal of her had about brought her to tears. He was upset. Of course he was being an asshole, but that didn't lessen the sting any. Refusing to break, she stood as straight as could be and planted her feet firmly on the floor.

"Fine...at least you know how I feel. But in case you're unaware, I'm a human. And I'm pretty sure that the reason your kind goes after mine is precisely for our prolificacy. Perhaps it just slipped your mind but I doubt_ we_ have such a large window of mis-opportunity." She paused to give him the chance to rebut, but he did not. She glared at him and then turned as if to leave, but stopped as something more dire came to mind. "If you're saying no because you chose me for this reason, please say so." She said. She saw him pause, saw him fight the urge to look up to her. Was that it then? Eager to uncover the truth, she thought to push him a little farther. "I might not agree, but I would understand if that was the case. I can only imagine how this topic must make you feel, given that you lost your first son. I can sympathize and understand that you wouldn't want to risk that again. You might even go as far as to sacrifice your own happiness, to deny me mine -all for the sake of your precious heir. I commend you really, taking one for the team like that."

There was a snap in the air, quite literally. She flinched when the pen he was holding snapped in two and flew across the desk. She stared down at him, deeply worried that her passive-aggressive tone may not have been as passive as she'd thought and then prayed she hadn't pushed too far.

"Is that what you really think?"

Sarah stared for a moment, confused. There was a waver to his voice, a most unnatural tremble. She couldn't tell if he was upset or enraged. But what...why was he so angry?

"Depends on how you answer my question," she said.

She waited another moment, observing him and his ominous glower. His fist tightened around the broken pen shaft and she felt herself taking half a step back.

"Get out," he said, his voice low, barely audible. She didn't move right away, still frozen by thoughts of impending doom. She knew what she said was catty but hadn't anticipated it to be a trigger. He glared up from through his bangs and those icy blues were enough to shake her free of any quandary. "Get out. Now," he repeated, and from the look in his eyes he meant business. Without a word, without any kind of hesitation, she turned and left the room as swiftly as she could.

She heard the door shut behind her and jumped from the sound of it. Her eyes were wide and she stared down at the floor, her heart beating a million miles a minute. She'd never seen him like that before, with such menace in his eyes, and that was saying something. She figured he was putting on a front when it came to his past, but just now made his feelings on the matter perfectly clear. His expression frightened her. And yet, she had an even more terrifying urge to rush back and hold him, to apologize and take it back. Maybe he did choose her for reproductive purposes, maybe the thought hadn't occurred to him at all. Either way, thanks to her, he was well aware of it now. She rushed back to her room and locked herself inside.

  



	107. An Impregnable Defense part 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While unbeknown to her, Sarah has succeeded in obtaining the one thing the Goblin King has desired for hundreds of years -power over the Labyrinth. After being hidden for years from his diabolical wrath, Sarah finds herself alone and vulnerable as Jareth's dark desires are finally aloud to rear their ugly heads. As always, the only question is, are things really as they seem?

It took about an hour for the anxiety to quell as Sarah jittered with worry and self-reprimand well into the afternoon. She thought about going to Marie just so she wouldn't be alone, but something kept her in place. A part of her knew she was waiting for him to come after her and yet still she waited. Maybe this was her way of punishing herself, sentenced to think herself to death in time-out.

After a while she started to relax when it became clear Jareth was in fact _not_ coming after her. She flopped on the couch and stared up at the ceiling. For one hour? Two? She didn't know. When she felt like moving again, she saw it was almost four o'clock and, after realizing how late it had gotten, felt her stomach start to grumble.

It was odd. She was hungry and yet didn't have an ounce of appetite.

She moved to the dining table and stared out the window beside it. If she were smart she would go find Marie. At least then she wouldn't be stewing alone in her own dread. But did she have the courage to tell her about it? Was it even her place to? She knew this was a serious matter, not just personal but of State even. She probably shouldn't go airing any details about it...

She ended up sending for a salad but could only bring herself to pick at it. Aside from Jareth's terrible stare, she was also greatly bothered by the fact that he _had_ said no. In all actuality, she knew that would be his response and yet she still felt worried over it. What would happen in their immediate future? Would they just stop being intimate? While she held firm resolve in that decision, she still didn't see that as being a realistic solution. And even if she did hold out for a whole year or so, that would be the same as just taking a contraceptive only a whole lot less fun for the both of them. But then there was always the third option. The one that made her shudder.

Yes, she had thrown it in his face but never did she actually think Jareth would resort to raping her. Not now at least. Still...just the thought was enough to rattle her to a state of anguish. She was glad she had been able to voice herself without falling apart, but how in the hell were they going to fix this?

Part of the reason she hadn't freaked out and staked more of a claim was because she really did understand his side of things. She really believed he had every right to be upset and react the way he did, no matter how much she wished it had gone otherwise. Jareth was a proud man, one who had a great deal of responsibilities...and she did kind of just throw it all on him at once...She would concede that neither one of them were prepared for that conversation.

She wasn't sure how much time had passed, but the leaves of her lettuce were starting to wither and the tea she had made had been cold for quite some time. She was just staring at the table cloth, twirling her fork around in circles, when the door suddenly opened.

She sat stock still as she watched Jareth slowly enter the room.

* * *

He kept his head lowered, he didn't say a word, though she noted the way he shut the door gently behind him. He peered up, just to locate where she was, then headed towards her. She straightened up as he approached her and watched him with a guarded stare as he took the seat across from her.

The tension and awkwardness was so palpable it was sure to strangle her.

Without a word he reached out and placed a box on the table between them, then pushed it so it slid the rest of the way to her. She was startled by the force of his gesture and was thus hesitant in reaching out for it. Jareth's dark gaze spied her anxious fingers fighting the urge to reach out and he scowled harder as he sighed.

"Take it," he said, his voice holding that same frightening tone as earlier. Now she was even more hesitant. She caught his gaze and upon sensing his impatience decided it would be better to simply do as he said.

She reached out for the box and pulled it near, daintily opening the latch and peering inside.

"You will make it yourself," Jareth then said, causing her to flinch yet again. She hadn't even gotten the chance to see what was inside.

"What is it?" she asked, but the glare her question received had her regretting even speaking at all. Ignoring her question, he carried on.

"You will not tell a soul about this. Do you understand? No one. Especially not the Nymph."

Sarah's eyes widened when he finished speaking and then darted back down to the box. Was this...? Was he really? She opened it and examined its contents, then furrowed her brow in confusion.

"Tea?" she asked, cocking her head as she regarded it. Jareth took a deep breath.

"You will take it once a day. Forget and you will be faced with the consequences," he said. Feeling a rise of hope and happiness, Sarah leaned up from her seat and beamed at him anxiously.

"Wait- you mean- this is?"

He stared at her hard for a moment and then glared away in apparent disgust. It didn't phase her now however, as she was all but overwhelmed by the turn of events. In a rough gesture, Jareth made move to leave then and there, but her lively eyes followed after him.

"Wait- Um...how long does it take to start working?" she asked, as if completely forgetting the fact that he was still riving mad at her.

"A couple hours," he said, tersely, his eyes narrowing on her. Her expression sickened him. "If you miss a day, it will begin to wear off within the next twenty-four hours, or so I'm told," he continued, eyeing her distastefully when her gaze flickered down to the box.

"And what if...what if I'm already pregnant? Will it have any adverse affects?" she asked, not quite fathoming the possibility that she could _already_ be with child. Jareth was silent for a moment, choosing to respond only when she looked back up to him.

"You're not," he said, which had her gearing up for another question. "I would be able to smell it on you," he explained, then turned to take his leave. Sensing his departure, Sarah placed the box on the table and quickly moved to join him.

"Wait- Jareth- Won't you stay? Please? I'd like to thank you...you have no idea what this means to me," she said, and he really didn't. This wasn't just about safe sex, it was about the act of concession, something Jareth had done completely selflessly without any obligation. He may not realize it, but that counted for a lot in her book. Jareth stopped and turned to look at her over his shoulder.

"I'm sure I know exactly what this means to you. Now, if you'll excuse me, your presence before me is sickening," he said, leaving her to gape in her tracks as he continued walking and slammed the door behind him.

* * *

Jareth closed his eyes and ground his teeth as he shut the door to Sarah's room. He was so mad. So unbelievably mad. He couldn't even think straight. He exhaled roughly and left her and that room behind him. This was ridiculous. It was humiliating. As if she could even comprehend the gravity of what she had asked him for.

He did. He understood. And yet, he'd still given it to her.

He closed his eyes again as he skulked down the hall, half expecting to hear her running after him at any moment. He dreaded that moment and waited for it with furtive anticipation.

Chiding his foolishness, he huffed and ran a hand through his hair. All he could see was her sorry expression. Why did she have to look at him like that? He couldn't fucking think when she looked at him like that. Pitiful. What a terrible way to regard a person.

He had been having such a good day too. He was so surprised when she had come to see him. What a rarity. He should have seen it coming. She never came to him just because. It was always something. But she had looked so timid, so frail. The way she looked at him from a lowered gaze, the way she wove her fingers so shyly, even her voice was weak and yielding. She had come to him in deference, so how could he possibly be angry with her?

No. He wasn't. He wasn't angry with her at all, and that was part of what made him so angry. What he was mad at was everything else. The moment she'd revealed herself was like a stark slap in the face. What? What was she even talking about? Children? Why was this surprising to him?

She had begun to ramble, throwing out ridiculous words like condoms and contraceptives. How unaware was she of putting him at such a disadvantage? He'd tried to catch up to her, but he simply couldn't. The idea of children...of Sarah and children, the idea that the combination of those two things would first come from her own mouth...had left him stunned.

She continued to plea her case and he responded harshly. He knew. He was there. He was the one saying those words and yet his mind had never been further. He wanted her to just shut up. To give him a chance to simply absorb the impact. But she didn't. She just stared at him, waiting for him to give her an answer then and there. What the hell was he supposed to say?

He became disgusted then. Not with Sarah, but with himself. He was inept at this conversation and there was no reason for it. Why was he so caught off guard by her? Why was he so offended by it?

Deep down he knew. He knew the truth of the matter and it was thus, he'd never had the thought himself. He'd never once even remotely considered he and Sarah's future, one that was filled with their family, with their children. He'd only ever been concerned with the future of his rule, his future with the Labyrinth. But he himself had said it right? She was to be his wife, of course she would have his kids. Of course she would. And therefore...therefore there was no real reason to think about it.

He had been given the chance to think about it then, however, and a thought that should have been filled with such joy and promise was instead distorted by the context of her desperate and unwieldy stare.

For a split second, just one, he was incredibly happy. He'd been so focused on the present, on his plan and on their relationship. He'd never bothered to think about the future. Of course he was aware of it, but the prospect of children was but an abstract concept to him and a rather extraneous one at that.

He chose Sarah because she was a fitting key to his plan, and he chose to marry her because that seemed like a natural step towards fulfilling that plan. Anything beyond that was irrelevant. Yes, circumstances had changed since then, but he had not taken the time to reevaluate the scope of such things.

And now that he had? Now that Sarah had finally dawned this new horizon upon him? Before he had even the chance to imagine such a possibility was she threatening to take it all away, and for that he did reproach her.

All he wanted was the chance to think. But no, she had to keep on spouting about all of her righteous reasoning until even the sound of her voice chafed him.

And then she had said something stupid.

She had said something that she had no right in saying. She had said something purely for the effect she knew it would have on him. He couldn't blame her entirely though, he had done it to her first.

His son. That's right...he almost had a son hadn't he? Why was she more aware of that memory than he was? There was no reason to bring it up. It had nothing to do with anything and yet...and yet she had said it and in an instant the table he had been glaring at turned red.

He'd never been so angry with her before. He was thankful he had enough self control to warn her or else he may have done something regretful. She must have known it too, why else would she leave without taking one last jab at him? But why was he so mad?

She was wrong, his feelings over Aurelia had nothing to do with the current matter. He had forgotten about her and he couldn't understand why Sarah was making it her mission to drudge up such irrelevant history. She wanted a reason why he said no, when in all truth he had no reason. He just wanted her to stop, to just go away. Each reason she accused him with was more diminishing that the last. How dare she. How dare she assume anything. She was the ignorant one. She was the naive one. Who the hell was she to label him with such preposterous motivations?

_Insecure_ because she didn't want him? Torn over the trauma of watching the dead body of his first child being cut out of the dead body of his first wife? _Accusing him of wanting nothing more from her than to serve as a receptacle?_ How was that supposed to make him sympathize with her? How was that supposed to sway him? And that last one...What kind of person did she think he was?

It had all accumulated so quickly and suddenly the way she stood over him felt like a challenge. He couldn't stand it. He wanted her gone.

And then she was.

She left and suddenly he was alone and feeling even more frustrated than before. _What the fuck. Why did she have to do that?_ How else did she expect him to react? On one hand he was surprised she had left so willingly, on the other he half-wanted her to come storming back in. This fight was different from before. He could feel that something was different. And that's when he realized that this was their first argument where she was totally clear of Liana's influence.

The realization of such helped to calm him, just enough to get his thoughts in order. Sarah was worried about becoming pregnant? She had been thinking about it and he wasn't? How much of a fool did that make him? And her reasons...while he berated them to her face, he knew deep down that they were perfectly sound. He was just so hurt; was she telling the truth when she said it wasn't about him? He had a hard time believing that and it had nothing to do with his ego. She'd brought up _that time _as well: the early days of her stay. Those memories stung because, for better or worse, it was now something he deeply regretted. Had he really changed so much in such a short period of time? Or was it all an act? Had he in fact been feeling guilty from the very beginning?

This was too much to think about. He needed to simplify.

Pushing it all away, he attempted to return to his work, but soon discovered that was a futile waste of time. He became irritated again, as this little episode was sure to make him fall behind on what was really a very important matter. Leaning forward on the desk, he ran his hands down his face and closed his eyes to think.

He wondered where she had run off to. He wondered if she were alone. And he realized that, from the bottom of his heart, he hoped that he hadn't made her cry.

He sighed and pulled away. He had to give her props, she had remained calm and in check all the way through and he knew it was because of the charm. Thank God for that. He didn't even want to imagine how things could have gone otherwise. And she did have a point. Several in fact. And she was right; One or two years was like nothing to him, and yet because it was her it meant everything. He honestly hadn't factored in that she was human. He hadn't realized things might be different. And for her to think that was all he wanted her for...he knew she saw the look of hurt he tried to hide. Some of the reasons he desired her may have been devious but they were not so cold-hearted. They were not empty. And they were not so singular. But how would she understand? He had never told her. Not once. How could he possibly bring himself to tell her now? He would make himself a fool to speak of it, to say the reason he denied her was nothing more than spite in reaction to a wound inflicted by the one he loved?

Now that he was aware, he _wanted_ to have children with her. Now that he was aware, he couldn't wait for that future. She obviously could. That was obviously what she wanted. So how would he respond? Would he deny her and risk ruining what little they had built together? Or appease her and nurse the wound on his own? And what if that wound festered? What if the gap between them became infected and began to rot that minor affinity into bitter irony?

Before he knew it hours had gone by. His work remained untouched and he found himself in possession of a small wooden box. As if she had given him any real choice...

A part of him was glad to find her stewing. Another part felt guilty and wanted to assure her things would be fine. But he couldn't. Not right now. The effect of her stare hadn't lessened any and he was in fact relieved to be out of that room. And so he found himself sulking, roaming bitterly down the hall.

He stopped by a window, irritated that the scene was still so blithe. It mocked him relentlessly. He watched as a bird flew by, dancing with another as they fluttered off into the distance and he suddenly felt the overwhelming urge to kill something. Taking a step up onto the sill, he didn't spare a single thought before leaping out and spreading his arms wide as he fell, letting the cold sharp force of gravity guide him as he headed straight for the forest below.

* * *

The canopy was dense, though for some reason he didn't mind the minor beat and batter of branches that struck him as he drove straight down.

What a feeling. Such a rush and yet so calming. It was only in moments like this that he could fully lose himself. He dodged larger limbs and obstacles so effortlessly, it was like it were they that were dodging him. He could see the ground growing nearer, faster and faster it filled his view. For a moment his was empty. For a moment he would have been fine if he had splattered the ground then and there.

Only just before that moment did he pull up and soar back through the canopy. Such a sensation. It shook his very bones. He hoped it was something that he would never tire of.

He flew high over the forest, surveying the land. He remembered a time when he did this often, scoping for any sorry ne'er-do-wells that dared trespass while under his gaze. He remembered the first time, the first time he'd mastered the transformation. He had hoped to prove his father proud. He was only 12 after all. But Father was never proud. _Owls were delicate_, he said, _creatures that relied on hiding and trickery._What kind of man did that make him?

He remembered flying with Davion, back in a time when words like suspicion and rivalry were still beyond their comprehension. His brother was a hawk, a fine bird of prey his father said. It didn't seem to matter how clumsy or tactless he was, so long as he faced his opponents head on. Poor, young Jareth's spirits would have been crushed completely if it wasn't for Mother. The owl is wise. The owl is cunning. The owl is cruel. The owl always wins.

The owl always wins. Yes, that was the mantra by which Jareth had been living his life since, and indeed he followed through. No matter what was going on on the outside, being in this form reminded him of that. Ironically, it grounded him as he flew high through the air.

The air felt so clean, so clear, the land so quiet. But that wasn't enough right now. His keen eyes caught on movement in the brush and he immediately dove.

* * *

He wondered what Sarah would think. Would she approve? Probably not. Would she understand or be, as she herself might say, weirded out? Why was he pondering her opinion anyway?

His talons sunk deep into the unfortunate body of frantic woodland creature and he writhed in its pathetic screams. No. She would not understand. She would be horrified.

He sunk his talons deeper.

When the creature's struggling ceased and its screams fell silent, he released it to the care of whatever lucky scavenger happened across it. He glided to a branch and observed the forest.

It was quiet, oddly so. There wasn't much life running about and for a moment that worried him. In the back of his mind the thought of the Labyrinth arose. Its growing instability was having an effect on all, especially the natives. Not only were walls crumbling according to Sarah's particular mood swing, but rivers had started to dry, vegetation to wither. He didn't want to admit it, but this current state of affairs couldn't last for too much longer. He wasn't sure what that day would be like, what decision he would have to make.

Growing bored, he took flight again and rose above the trees. He went higher this time, higher than the castle tower, and hovered before the radiant sun. His tension was starting to ease. It felt like he had recovered his bearings. He thought of Sarah again, wondering whether or not she had brewed that first cup. He wondered what that would mean the next time they saw one another. Would he still be angry? Should he? He wondered if she thought of him even half as much as he thought of her.

Shaking his head, he dove again. He went hard, fast, as fast as he could, his streamline body piercing through the air heading straight down. He was hoping it would clear his head. He was hoping it would distract him.

In a flash he burst through the canopy, whipping around trees and zipping through vines. He could see a thick layer of thorns up ahead and tried to veer away, though he became concerned when he found he could not. He tried to pull up, to slow down, but was met with the same result. It was then that he realized he was being drawn in, drawn in by something he did not have the power to break free of. He cursed himself and Sarah for being so careless. He couldn't think when she looked at him like that, and that look was all he was able to see.

He hit the thorns hard, doing his best to brace his body against the impact. He crashed through it, suffering cuts and entanglement from broken vines. He tumbled through the air, half strung as he fell to the ground.

He reacted quickly enough to turn back to his Fae form before hitting the hard ground, otherwise his "delicate" owl body would have been crushed to pieces. He growled as he skidded through the dirt, viciously tearing the thorns from his skin and the vines that wrapped around him. Great. What could it possibly be now? This day was just getting better and better.

He stood and brushed himself off. The brush was thicker here, creating a wall of foliage full circle and the vines he had just crashed through began to regrow and heal the hole he'd made. This definitely wasn't natural, and he knew exactly whose magic had formed it.

With a rough sigh, Jareth turned all around, looking about his surroundings with little patience.

"Alright! Congratulations! You've got me! Come on out you insufferable wretch!"

He threw his arms out and twirled in a grand gesture. She was here. He could feel it. Oh, she had chosen the wrong time to pick a fight with him.

"Now is that any way to speak to me? How impious."

The ground vibrated with the words of the wind, leaving Jareth to continue looking for her source.

"Reveal yourself. What do you want with me now?" he asked. The ground rumbled again but no voice came. Vines began to slither from the trees and bushes, seeming to snake their way to him, but hissed and recoiled once touched by the barrier Jareth had erected. The vines slithered back and instead the bushes started to glow, brimming with the dancing of tiny fireflies. A cluster of insects began to gather and moved to create a fluid form that then circled him from the bush.

"Already on your guard I see...That would imply you have something to be defensive over," she said, the movement of insects aligning in the ghostly contours of a woman. Jareth sneered something nasty.

"Is my person not enough? I'm surprised you would sick your entrails on me unprovoked," he said, with a glare. He was so not in the mood for this.

"Unprovoked?" she repeated, causing him to flinch back when the cluster suddenly swarmed and dashed straight at him to the other end of the circle. "Hardly." Her form became a little clearer then, the fluttering of wings serving as her blinking eyes. Jareth stood firmly in the center of the circle. "Why don't you tell me what it is you've been up to?" she asked, with such a devious tone. He recognized this tone. This was her true self, not the pathetic facade she had created for Sarah. He should have known the forest would be a trap. How foolish of him to think he could get away with enjoying anything anymore.

"I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about," he said. Liana stopped and changed directions. She moved slowly, as if gliding on the wind itself. She started laughing, then. It came as a chuckle but soon turned to a riotous hysteria. It bellowed throughout the forest and shook the trees. Jareth started to get worried... She seemed a little more neurotic than usual.

"You really are hysterical Jareth. Do you have any idea _what you've done?_" she asked, her words devolving into a low demonic bellow. Jareth tried not to reveal his trepidation. She was pissed, that much was clear. Ugh, this was irritating. He should have anticipated her anger after the stunt he'd pulled at the ball.

"Why don't you explain it to me?" he asked, sardonically.

Liana's distorted apparition started to laugh again. Her hands went to her head and she bent down as if falling to the ground. Her laughter became twisted, growing both higher and lower in pitch, echoing itself until the sound morphed to cries, bitter whimpers of frailty and desperation.

Suddenly the circle lit in a torrent of fire, the blaze charring the foliage instantly, the heat of which provoked Jareth to conjure another barrier to guard himself.

"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!" she roared, her voice raging throughout the forest. Jareth winced at the intensity of the flames but was able to push it back.

"I told you, I don't know-"

"WHERE IS SHE?!" she cut him off, refusing to entertain his stupid games. She was going mad. For days now. For days she couldn't find Sarah. For days they had been separated. There was no way he could comprehend the pain that put her in.

This time Jareth didn't respond. It was clear she wasn't messing around this time. He wasn't sure he could get away with his usual cavorting.

"I can't find her. Where is she? It's been three days and I can't find her. Where is she? I can sense her. I can feel her. I can't see her Jareth. You've hidden her from me. Tell me what you've done!" She started clawing at her temples and shaking her head as she moved through the burning bushes. Branches were starting to crumble overhead, causing him to have to move this way and that to avoid being hit. Jareth eyed the canopy closely. If Liana was this catatonic, she may not realize the damage she was doing to her own spell. If this fire kept burning, he may just be able to break through the remnants of the barrier.

With a devilish smile, he stared at the ground as he stepped around pieces of burning twigs.

"So...what you're saying is that it worked?" he asked, his eye now twinkling with a sinister flare. "Please, do tell me all about it. You say you can sense her yet not see her? Is there anything else?"

He knew he probably shouldn't be instigating her like this, but he just couldn't help it. He was in a dismal state of mind to begin with and needed the ego boost desperately, no matter how dangerous it might be. Liana slowed and stared straight at him, her bright glowing eyes zeroing in on him.

"I cannot go to her. Even if I assume where she is, I physically cannot go to her. What sort of vile magic have you concocted?" she asked.

"Why would I tell you that?" he countered, crossing his arms over his chest as he watched her. She held her arms out as she moved, her posture predatory and, combined with her unwavering stare, was really quite haunting.

"You cannot possibly comprehend the gravity of what you have done," she said, the fire around them starting to die down. Jareth dodged another charred branch.

"Oh really? Because so far I haven't discovered a single con," he said. Liana's posture stiffened. "In just three days I've been able to notice a significant change in her manner. She's been more stable, less irrational. Happy even. Now that I see just how much your connection was warping her I can't find any reason to undo it."

"You do not know the consequences of your actions, Jareth. This is not solely about her."

"What, have you been lonely without her mind to muddle in? Please, tell me all about it," Jareth said, mockingly. Liana did not take kindly to that. Not at all.

"She is my cornerstone!" she yelled, breathing life back into the embers glowing on the trees. Jareth kept an eye on the thorns above.

"Yes, and she still is. You are still connected. I've simply revoked your visiting privileges. Without direct contact you cannot go funneling your energy into her whenever you so choose. You've been manipulating us both for far too long. I warned you I would take action if you kept this up. Do not underestimate me."

"Underestimate you?" she said, with such disbelief, such astonishment. She leaned forward and stared at him harder. "I believe it is you who is _overestimating_, Jareth. Do you really think you alone have the power to protect her?" she asked. Jareth was silent. "You really think you have the ability to watch over her and guard her from every threat?" Her words were uncanny, echoing those of Davion just the other night.

"I can protect her, yes."

"No. You cannot," she retorted, turning her back on him as she stared out into the forest. "You cannot be with her every moment like I can. You cannot sense approaching danger before it has the chance to strike like I can. You cannot sense her pain and be there to save her in an instant like I can."

Jareth began to scowl, for he knew that she was right. Liana was an impregnable defense, but he would not second guess himself. So long as he kept her out of any possibly threatening scenarios it would be well worth the risk. Sarah needed to be her true self. He needed it as well. Liana was simply too dangerous, too unpredictable. And with her growing instability, it only made matters worse.

"I have charms on her. Should she call out or if her life were in immediate danger I would be there instantly," he said, to his defense. Liana turned back to glare at him.

"And what if she doesn't have time to call out? What then? What if your senses aren't quick enough? What if she were to die? What if she were to die and leave you with the knowledge that it could have been prevented? What if she were to die and I were set free?"

"I won't let that happen," he said. Liana looked away.

"As if mere words held such power."

Jareth cracked a smile then.

"Oh, I assure you, they do."

"I need her Jareth," she said, changing directions. She had become much more settled now, the fire around them reduced to the mere crackle of sparks. "I cannot function without her. It's tearing me apart," she continued. Jareth's expression was stone. "I'm not sure how much longer I can hold things together like this. I need my master Jareth. You must awaken her before you lose this land you claim to strive for."

"You will do your job. That is the end of it. We both know that Sarah is nowhere near capable of possessing you. The merge would _tear her_ to shreds."

"You underestimate her," Liana said. Jareth shook his head.

"She is human. No human could ever possibly wield you."

"And how would you know? Has it ever been done?"

"That's precisely it. It's never been done. And with the way she reacts to what little energy you give her, I have very low confidence in the prospect that she would pull through, and I _will not _lose her."

"You would rather lose your realm instead? If you're going down you would rather take the world with you, is that it?"

"I would rather lose everything than her, yes."

"Because you love her?" Liana asked, with audacity it seemed. Jareth's brow twitched and he hesitated to respond, giving her the opportunity to take advantage of the silence. "Do you truly even know the depth of such an emotion? Or is it merely a word you use to coddle yourself on those nights you find yourself questioning your own competence?" She continued, jabbing at him until she knew he'd felt it. Jareth's fists tightened, but he forced himself to remain composed.

"Do not question things that are beyond your own comprehension. Do not preach to me on that which you are devoid of," he said with warning. He was getting angry now. The way she looked at him, although it was composed of light and the flutter of insects, was an uncanny reminder of the look he so detested, the one he was still trying to rid himself of. That stare was truly unrelenting.

"What is that famous saying? Those who cannot practice, teach?"

"If there is a point to all this hurry up and get to it. I'm tired of having this same conversation over and over."

"Oh, you're the one who's tired? Please, explain to me how exactly your efforts have been exerted in this matter? You have done _nothing_, nothing but make it more and more difficult for me to do _my_ job. Do you really not see the effect your pride and your stubbornness is having on the world around you? We've worked so hard to create what little this kingdom amounts to and in a month you would see it crumble to dust."

"You would not let that happen."

"Why? Because I am all powerful?" she asked. Jareth was silent. "Do I look that way to you?" she continued, forcing herself not to laugh from exasperation. "My abilities may be infinite, but I am but a vessel and you know the limitations that tether our arrangement. You know that I cannot operate without a liege," she explained. Jareth became unsettled then. He'd been forcing himself to believe that all this duress was just a bluff on her part. He couldn't let her know that she was starting to get to him.

"You seemed to operate just fine before," he said.

"Just fine? Are you really content with just fine? That was because I was free. Perhaps things were in consistency before, but now that Sarah has returned to me it is becoming harder and harder to maintain control, for my being knows that I should relinquish it to her and yet I am unable to. I'm caught in a quandary, and now you've gone and made that connection even more unstable." She spoke words that Jareth was already well aware of, paying close attention to the way he began to angle himself away from her. Hm, he was getting defensive now. Maybe her little show was having an affect after all.

"It's your own fault. You should have heeded my warnings."

"No. It is your fault. You are the one who failed. You are the one who came begging to me. You are the one who was discontent, who schemed and plotted and acted against me. All of this. Everything that has happened to Sarah is because of you. Everything I have done to her is because of you. And know that everything I am going to do to her is because of you-"

"Is that a threat?" he interjected.

"No. Because unlike you, I would never truly hurt her. The pain that she feels is inflicted by your own hand and nothing else and to believe the contrary is blatant idiocy. I would do anything and everything to see her happy in the end, but more than that I will do what is best for _her_ -something that you could never bring yourself to do," she said, stinging him repeatedly with his secret shortcomings.

"And how, pray, do you plan to do all of that?" he asked. Liana rose a brow then and began to move.

"I have been observing," she said, gliding languidly around him. "Your spell may be effective but in no way is it fool proof." Jareth's posture became tense. Sensing the moment she'd been waiting for, she felt it was time to get to the point of all this. "There are fluxes," she started. "They are minor but they are consistent. Whatever spell you used, it must be something ancient, something foreign, something I wouldn't have expected. And because of that I doubt it was something you had any knowledge in either, something that is far too dangerous to bestow upon Sarah herself..."

She spoke slowly, letting him know that imparting her knowledge of this was a gift given at her leisure. Ha. She could see him starting to fume. Oh, all the fury her tone must be provoking from him. He was sure to antagonize her, to question her motives. Ah, he was just so easy to manipulate.

She paused in her movement and narrowed her eyes, pretending the pieces were just now coming together.

"No...no what you made was a charm, yes? Something that acts in proximity to her...something that she wears. There are times when I can feel the barrier weakening, in the morning or at night. When she showers and sleeps perhaps? But what, I wonder, could you have possibly done to convince her to wear such a thing so faithfully?" she asked, smiling innocently. Jareth fought the nasty habit of fisting his hands. "Did you give her some sort of trinket? Out of_ love_ perhaps? Have you lied to her once again? Does she even know the kind of dastardly beast you really are?" she asked. Again he was silent. She could sense anger in him, brooding slowly. There was something he was keeping back and she realized that the reason he wasn't speaking wasn't because he had been found, but because he was in fact still hiding. Noting this observation, she carried on uninterrupted.

"Ah, that must be its weakness then. You can't tell her about it. What possible reason would she have to trust you? So...if she were to say...not be so faithful...I imagine the trinket would begin to lose its effect quite effortlessly." She slowed to a halt then, her strong gaze rising to meet his. She'd said all that she wanted to. Jareth bit the inside of his cheek. He knew her game and he also knew that this was not the time to let his ego get the better of him.

"Oh, don't act so smart," he said. "Do you think I hadn't accounted for such things? Even if she were separated from it, it would take a significant amount of time for its effects to diminish, plenty of time to make sure she adorns it once again." Affirming her speculation was a risk indeed, but he knew better than to continue lying about it. They both knew the truth of the matter: he was still the one with the advantage.

"You say that as if I need your curse to be broken in order to bypass it...No...weakened is good enough for me. You are not the only one who can wield an unpleasant vicarious hand," she said, moving to mimic Jareth's defensive posture of arms crossed over torso.

"You're bluffing," Jareth said.

"Am I?" she challenged. "You said it yourself, you've seen the way she reacts to but a small amount of my energy. Let me clue you in on something -I do not require physical contact in order to pass energy through her. Even with this barrier of yours, how do you think she would react should I sent over something a bit more _substantial_?"

Jareth broke his stance then and nearly growled as he clawed his hand through the air.

"What?! You would use her as a test subject just to find the breaking point in my spell? You would risk breaking her! How dare you vouch for her safety and speak of such righteousness. You are a true wretch-"

"I am but the reflection of your poor beloved's heart," Liana interrupted, her simply sated composure irritating him like nothing else. She was mocking him with her calmness, and it was getting harder for him to remain so.

"No you are not. Even the worst of her I could love without doubt, but through this endeavor I see your true self. It may be Sarah's emotions that fuel you, but you are the one who chooses which emotions to devour. Do not think me a fool. This madness and this anger makes you powerful and oh how you must writhe in it."

There was a split second's pause before Liana's response. She knew Jareth was perceptive and intuitive, but she never thought he would pick up on something so subtle. She would not admit it now, but she greatly revered the potential in him. True potential. If only he knew how to wield such greatness.

"So wise is the Goblin King, but you shall know that I may only take from the emotions that I have been given. After all, the legacy of my wrath is the glory of Kings," she said, slowly, with the sharpness of truth. While she could focus on more powerful emotions, she could only choose from those that had been transferred to her, those that her liege felt the strongest. It went without saying, much to Jareth's own understanding, which emotions had been in ample supply over the course of generations and generations of Goblin Kings, both great and terrible. After letting that knowledge sink in, she picked back up. "Does it not arouse you? To be taunted with that which you cannot have? To watch as I unravel, to see the raw spectacle that is true power and know that it is not yours to save nor savor?"

"You will be mine soon enough."

"Oh really? Five-hundred years and your pining has amounted to nothing. Perhaps Thaelon was right. Perhaps you truly are not worthy." She angled herself away from him, but gave him one of his own signature sneers. She was really going all out to piss him off wasn't she? Was this really just to get back at him, or was it something more?

"Silence, incessant hag," Jareth commanded. He knew she could tell he was in a foul mood to begin with, allowing her to get a rise out of him like this would only be playing into her plan, whatever it may be. Liana smiled wickedly.

"Does that knowledge hurt? Is that what this is all about then, proving Daddy wrong?" she asked, her snideness akin to Sarah's own, a quality she did the opposite of masking.

"It is about claiming what is rightfully mine," Jareth said, glaring at her as he held his ground.

"Rightfully yours? You are but a man. You are entitled to nothing," she said, an insult that had him grinding his teeth.

"I am the King of this land. You belong to me, as you have for thousands of years," he said, the rise in his voice betraying the resolve of his statement. Liana laughed and Jareth grimaced. What a boorish sound.

"What a fool. If I were ever yours, you would know first hand that I belong to no King."

"And yet you are content to be held by a Queen?" Jareth asked. Liana rose a brow and a catty snicker was soon to follow.

"Content? At this point, I am _content_ to watch you suffer. I am content to further your strife. I am content to comfort Sarah while you grovel in your anguish. If only she knew how pathetic you really are. If only she knew the events which led us here-"

"I told you that is enough!" Jareth interrupted, no longer concerned with hiding his aggravation. The way she berated him was so very much like_ her _and he hated it. She was chipping away at him little by little, throwing hints of the past in his face and he had yet to understand the reason why.

"Oh, did I strike a nerve? Are you starting to unravel? Please, describe to me your discomfort so that I may compare it to that of Sarah's," she asked. Jareth paused. What? What was she talking about? "Oh, nothing to say?" she added, laughing at the way he had been caught off guard. "There is a reason for it, isn't there? A reason why you were flying in my forest so carelessly? If I'm correct, you only do so when you're at your wit's end, when you feel trapped and there is nowhere else for you to go. Tell me, what sort of _inconvenience_ have you gotten into this time?" she asked, a question with heavy implication. She would not reveal the depth of her knowledge on the subject, it would ruin her clandestine advantage. However, she knew just how far she could push him without him ever realizing it.

"None of your business," Jareth said, suspicious of her tone and that strange smile. It was as if she knew something. Could she somehow sense it from Sarah?

"None of my business? I can feel along with her simultaneously, and now that I can no longer assess her well being for myself, I'd say it most certainly is my business. Let me see, there was worry, anxiety, guilt, regret, remorse, a bit of utter woe, should I go on?" she asked, with a rhetorical tone which he politely ignored. "Oh, what else was there...it was something big...let's see...oh yes, disappointment and most prominently, _fear_. What in the world did you do to her this time?" she asked. Jareth looked to the ground and scowled, then rose a deadly finger in her direction.

"I will warn you once. Silence your nagging and dreadful inferences," he said, trying so hard to restrain himself. It was bad enough this was a matter between he and Sarah, he didn't have the strength to handle it as a public affair. Disregarding his weak excuse for a _warning_, Liana carried on.

"Ah, but let's investigate shall we? You came here to clear your head. You came here to hide your true self; are you feeling shame perhaps? I watched you viciously murder several poor unguarded animals. Were you trying to prove yourself? Some self-gratification? Seeking to nullify some pesky sense of incompetence? Tell me, what did she say to have rattled you so? You, who are so strong and proud, you stand tall before me now but no amount of posturing can conceal the truth-"

"And what truth is that?" Jareth snapped.

"That you have been rendered inept by the actions of but a mere mortal girl."

Jareth was silent then, but he jittered with barely restrained fury. Giving in to tighten his fists, he stared hard at the ground, fighting for the discipline not to do something stupid. Liana saw this, saw how close he was to losing control and so moved in a little closer

"Please, enlighten me. Did she glare at you too harshly? Did she insult you with truths you're too obtuse to conceal? Oh, what weakness does this love of yours prove to be when you cannot even withstand a slight scratch from the blade of your double-edged sword."

"Woman! Enough of your vile provocations!" Jareth yelled, glaring up and straight at her. The fact that she was now circling in on him failed to register, but either way he was now too angry to care. "You tempt to instigate me by emulating those awful manners which you think to be her, but I am not so blind. I will not be manipulated by you. Do not push me." He spoke with a growl, his eyes ablaze with the sheer animosity he held for this woman. She was still composed of light and insects, but he could see that molded face of hers perfectly, all her condescending expressions, the blatant superiority in her eyes.

That sense of superiority gleamed as she asked, "Or what? What will you do with all your power? What will you do when you realize just how desperate you are? Do you even know what that desperation craves?"

"It craves to silence your pathetic ravings," he grumbled, keeping his shoulders tense as he watched her move.

"Oh, it seeks far more than that," she said, then moved towards him with ease. He held his ground and only glared through her as her ghostly hands moved over his chest. She tilted her head and regarded him closely, leaning in close to his ear. "May I remind you that I can feel _all_ of her emotions, and I also know that this time you did not strike her, such progress on your part." Her tone had softened greatly, leaving him more on guard than before, and the way her hands moved about his torso had him recoiling. "But the fact that you did not is quite curious, isn't it? Why would that be?" she asked, letting her gaze lower over him. "It would be too easy to say that you have learned...no, I know you better than that Jareth. Your anger will always get the better of you. So...if you did not strike her, that leads me to think that it was an emotion stronger than anger that guided you. Could it be that she hurt you? Are you...you are _truly_ upset, aren't you? That's it, isn't it? And I know there are very few things in this world that could cause you genuine grief. So let me guess," she said, her hands lowering down his torso. "_...Shame. Incompetence. Ineptitude," _she whispered, smiling devilishly at the way his brow twitched at such words. "Hm...I believe the blow to your pride has rendered those terms a bit more literal, hasn't it?" she asked and laughed, then gave an unexpected tug on his belt. Surprised, and quite frankly disgusted, Jareth pushed away from her and swatted at the stray fireflies that buzzed around him.

"Do not touch me," he commanded, appalled at her perverse display. Never, in all the time he'd known her, had she taken on such behavior. It was unsettling and unwanted. She glided a few steps away from him and smiled, satisfied with his reaction.

"Oh come now. Don't blame me for such curiosity. I do feel along with her and let me say, the things she feels at times are actually quite _exhilarating,_" she said. Jareth scowled and glared away, brushing his hands down his shirt as if her bugs were still crawling on him.

"You must truly be out of your mind to conduct yourself towards me thusly," he said.

"And you must be truly a fool to let your guard down within my forest," she retorted, earning back his attention. She turned away when he looked up. "Or have you forgotten that it is _my forest_? But perhaps I am going mad. Perhaps this is what I've been reduced to as the result of all your scheming. I have so many emotions now, so many urges. And you have no idea how badly I wish to be rid of them. If I had a master who was aware, they would be able to regulate how I am affected. It does make me curious though, all those years, all those women." She stopped and turned back to face him. "I've never been ruled by a woman before, let alone one who is unable to guard herself from me. I've never been able to _feel_ like that before. I find myself wondering, would it have been the same with any of the others? Would it have been the same with _her_? With the first one?"

Jareth felt a sudden pang in his chest. He didn't know why or what it was, but he recognized it from earlier. He could feel something terrible building inside him, something he had not the ability to hold back.

"You fancied her didn't you? She and that pretty blonde hair," Liana continued, apparently oblivious to Jareth's worsening state. He didn't say anything. He physically couldn't. If she said one more word about his past he was going to lose it. "Oh, but she was rather dull wasn't she? No, I think you've found something with Sarah haven't you? Maybe that's why it came as such a shock. Maybe that's why you find yourself so helpless. I can only imagine what this must drudge up for you." She looked at him with such a cheerful smile. She was blatantly mocking him again. Worse, she was mocking all that had happened. He could feel his anger escalating so quickly it became a torrid heat in his chest. He took a deep breath to try to compose himself, but her words forced their way through, "Oh well, look at it as a good thing. Thanks to Sarah, at least you won't run the risk of _allowing_ what happened to that girl to happen to her too. That really would be quite a hitch in your plan."

Losing whatever bit of restraint he had been clinging to, Jareth stepped forward and wrapped his hand around her invisible neck and pulled her to him.

"Malicious bitch. One more word out of your mouth and I swear I will break your neck."

The glow of Liana's eyes brightened with excitement along with her smile as it grew and spread unnaturally wide.

"What neck?" she asked playfully, watching Jareth grind his teeth as his hand then constricted through her to clench open air. "If it's any consolation, I believe you made the right choice. The relief I felt from her means you conceded, correct?" she asked, gliding back and out of his reach. "It's probably for the best. You never really struck me as the fatherly type; so much anger in you. What is it they say? Like father like son? I was actually quite relieved to learn what had happened with the other. Gods know what fate would await the child that survives long enough to call you Sire..." she said, then looked up after a long pause. "What, no response?"

Jareth was quiet, disturbingly so. The hand that once held her neck lowered to his side and his posture became so rigid he actually trembled from the strain of it. His head was lowered, his face masked behind his hair, but he did nothing more to hide the look of utter agony that marred it. For a moment, Liana wondered if he would in fact react differently than anticipated. Had her words broken him? Was he really so fragile? Or was it something else? Had her words provoked something she was unprepared for?

"Fucking bitch..." Jareth mumbled, his voice low and crackling with something Liana was unfamiliar with. "Both of you. You both know nothing. Who are you to make such judgements about me? Who are you to patronize my past when you -neither of you- have any idea what really hap..." He cut himself short then and shook his head as he changed directions. "I know what you are doing. Your words...They are meant to hurt me, because there is nothing else you can do, because that is only way you can get back at me. And that is fine, because I still win. They say that an animal is most dangerous when wounded, when facing death right? I have certainly wounded you, but your words are unnecessary." He paused then, reigning in his nerves as he forced the waver to leave his voice. When he spoke again it was with total clarity. "You think you're dangerous now, but my wounds are deeper than yours."

The next moment, Liana felt a great energy swell and release that even she was unprepared for. It came as a tremor through the ground and amassed in a bright light that blinded her and sent her insects scattering. The vines of her enclosure screamed and hissed in pain as a force tore through her spell and completely obliterated the thorns that kept them secluded. There was a gust of wind, a displacement so powerful it shook the leaves from trees and had her, she the Labyrinth itself, taking a step back.

It lasted for but a second or two, a fleeting, awesome spectacle. Then the piercing light dimmed, the wind and the rumble faded, leaving Liana to gape in amazement at the owl that then flew quickly out of sight.

She stood silent for a moment, smiling grand at the brutality inflicted upon her spell. The sun shone through, casting shadows and throwing beams of light as it passed through the broken vines. She inspected them closely, watching as they twitched and fought to regrow but sadly could not. Her wide eyes remained in awe as she stepped into the circle. She watched him fly away, watched him fly unscathed into the blinding radiance of the sun. Her insects had begun to collect around her, but they were now unnecessary.

_So much potential.._.she thought, closing her eyes and humming as she rose her hand into the light. The fireflies left her, replaced by delicate flesh and bone as the light hit different parts of her body.

She basked in that light, absorbing the feel and remnants of Jareth's magic. Oh, what a feeling it was. Did he even know? Was he even aware of how great he could be? He had broken through her barrier so easily, the magic of a Fae! What a truly impressive creature.

"If only he would learn..." she mumbled, beginning to lose herself under such radiance.

It had been one month and already her plan had seen such progress. That spell of his wouldn't have worked before. That look just then, right at the end. There was true emotion in him, something she had never seen before. Something she never thought him capable of. This was good. He was doing well. Yes, she was making it difficult for the both of them, but this was a journey that required strife. It was for his own good. Even now, he wouldn't understand. She looked around at the mangled scene he'd left her in and sighed. She would rather not have to go to such lengths in her efforts, but he was just too perceptive. It was his fault that she acted this way.

She opened her eyes and looked around, and with a sway of her arms the sound of birds began to sing and the movement of woodland creatures began to rattle the forest. Yes, there most certainly was collateral damage. It hurt her to have to crumble her own walls and starve her own forests, but how else would he take this seriously? How else was she to motivate him? Emotions. Please. Mortal emotions were a feat she had conquered long ago.

If only he could understand. If only he could comprehend the emotions he was now feeling. If only he knew what it took to wield her, if only he could understand how simple it really was.

How foolish of him to think it was _Sarah's_ love that would grant him his prize.

She looked back to the sky then, satisfied with their transgression. Jareth may be angry, but at least Sarah was no longer the one he was angry with, at least now he was going back to her. She could sense him flying over the forest, catching him again would be easy, but she made no effort to do so.

It was disappointing to have to resort to such petty tricks, but it would be too easy to let him have his way. Like a spoiled child, he needed discipline. He needed obstacles to overcome. He needed to know what it felt like to have to fight for something, to have that taken away and have to fight for it all over again. He needed to learn what it meant to cherish something. No, not something, _someone_. He needed to learn the difference between those two words.

She sat on the ground and let her fingers snake into the earth, reviving the temporary damage she had caused. He was right about one thing, Sarah would never be able to wield her, never to the proper degree that would be required. And in all truth, she never had any intention of making Sarah her true master. But what would he fight for if he knew her real plan? How would he learn if she catered to his selfish desires? After all, the key to unlocking her true power was not selfishness but selflessness. Why would he go through the pains of bettering himself if he knew that her true desire was to give him his? Poor Sarah, she was at the center of all this, but it really had nothing to do with her.


	108. An Impregnable Defense part 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While unbeknown to her, Sarah has succeeded in obtaining the one thing the Goblin King has desired for hundreds of years -power over the Labyrinth. After being hidden for years from his diabolical wrath, Sarah finds herself alone and vulnerable as Jareth's dark desires are finally aloud to rear their ugly heads. As always, the only question is, are things really as they seem?

Jareth flew faster than ever before as he raced back to the castle. Liana was sure to be displeased with his gimmick just then, and the entirety of the forest was _her_ territory. He kept a close eye on his surroundings as he flew high above the canopy and hopefully well out of reach. If he could make it back to the castle everything would be fine. He was safe there. It was designed to be safe.

What the hell was that back there anyway? It all felt so random. One minute he was minding his own business and the next... Ugh. Gods was she irritating. Stupid. He was stupid to have come out here. She was right, he wasn't thinking. He should have expected some kind of retaliation after what he'd done, and frankly should have expected it sooner. But three days of pleasantries with Sarah had made him soft. How pathetic.

In retrospect however, what happened just now was relatively minuscule. All she had done was insult him, threaten him once or twice, but what else was new? He shouldn't have let her get to him, it was obvious she already knew the frame of mind he was in and used it to her advantage, but gods be damned why did these women feel the need to keep throwing around his past in his face like that? It was none of their business. It had nothing to do with anything!

For the second time that day an insufferable woman had brought up Aurelia and her unfortunate incident. And once again, Jareth found that what enraged him was not the memory of her, but the insinuation that he would ever allow that horror to befall Sarah. To even align that fate with her filled him with such rage. What would Liana have to gain by wounding him like that? Was it sheer spite? He had a hard time believing she would do or say anything with such frivolousness. So why was she pushing him? What did she want him to do?

The feeling of fresh air against his face helped to calm him down. This was all so unnecessary. All he needed was for Sarah to submit and everything would be fine. He would use Liana to rebuild his land, to bring glory back to the once revered Goblin Kingdom. His predecessors were all worthless. How could they have just stood by while the land withered and died? None of them were worthy, none of them could possess Liana like he knew he could. If only he had the chance. If only he hadn't been cheated out of what was rightfully his. He'd watched this desert consume his land for centuries, he'd watched great cities crumble to dust and through it all he could do nothing. No more. He would win. He would take hold of the Labyrinth. The world that he and Sarah would share would be a beautiful one. One that he would create. He wasn't about to let anyone stop him. Not Davion. Not his father. Not Liana herself. No even Sarah. No one.

* * *

Roldan sighed heavily as he stared down at the book in his hands. His thumbs stroked the cracking leather as his eyes meandered along the twists and turns of its debossed surface. The dust fading its glory was thick and grey, and with just one gust of breath went scattering into the air around him.

What a sorry sight it was indeed. How long had this book been cast aside here, forgotten? For how long had its pages withered and yellowed while its binding ached and strained? It was disgraceful really. All day he'd been searching for this book, but instead of being encased in glass, preserved in a vault, or even displayed in the reserves -somewhere it should have been- it was here. Lost. Abandoned. Thrown amongst a pile of prattle, piddling away all pallid and listless. He shook his head then. His ancestors would be horrified. Honestly, Jareth. What an inconsiderate, disorganized prat he could be.

He shook his head as he opened the book and gently turned through its pages. This poor thing hadn't seen the light of day in over 500 years and the evidence of this neglect shown plainly as pages fell loose from the binding and corners crumbled under even the lightest touch. He would have to repair this for sure before anything could be done with it.

He closed his eyes and shook his head again, then placed the book upon his pile of other things and exited the room.

He walked silently down the hall, contemplating all the preparations that were now in order to complete before the night's end. There was repairing the book...reading the book...forming a lesson plan that would be simple yet effective enough for Sarah to grasp...and that was just extracurricular. There was still the matter formalizing Faris's proposal for renewing trade rights. He wondered how far Jareth had gotten with all that. They'd met that morning and things seemed to be progressing smoothly. The day was almost over and there was no sign of Sarah. That could only be a good thing.

Speaking of Sarah...

He looked around then and realized he was in her wing of the castle. Actually, no. It wasn't her wing. I was Jareth's wing. And for some reason, he had felt like sticking her here rather than in the designated Queen's quarters idling happily across the castle. He couldn't understand why. They were perfectly good rooms, well and out of the way. A part of him was content with this however, as the idea of Sarah desecrating those sacred rooms filled him with displeasure. Heh, those rooms. _Sacred_ he called them. Sacred just like this book and, just like this book, had been thrown away under dust, under _lock and key_. He wondered what made her so special? Why did she deserve to be near him when back then it seemed he couldn't push _her_ far enough away?

He turned a corner and forced himself to leave those thoughts behind him. He was learning that no good would come from drudging up the past; but as irony would have it, the harder he tried the more easily the thoughts came.

So engrossed in thought, he almost didn't react to the sudden sound of shuffling that rattled from up ahead. He paused and looked up, before stopping dead completely and cocking his head to one side.

"Um...Hello?"

Roldan's wary greeting was met with a gruff sigh as Jareth jumped down from the windowsill. He groaned again, shaking his head from side to side as he grimaced at the floor.

Roldan stood there for a moment, waiting for his presence to be acknowledged, though it seemed the King had no awareness, nor any desire to become aware of his surroundings. He watched him straighten and brush himself off, scowling intently and grumbling to himself. Debating whether or not to investigate this strange scene, Roldan opted for temporary deflection.

"So...about that weather-"

Jareth glared up at him and he shut right up. It was a nasty expression, tired and full of annoyance. And yet, for some reason, it made Roldan want to laugh.

"Rough flight?" he asked, only half-sarcastic. Jareth ignored him and continued brushing himself off.

"What do you want?" he asked, irritably. Roldan tapped his fingers against the underside of the books he carried.

"I was actually thinking of coming to see you. And here you are casually climbing in through a three-thousand story window. How convenient."

Jareth grumbled and stepped towards him, glaring him in the eye as he tore a file from the stack that he held.

"Enough of your snickering. I am not in the mood," he said, then quickly began scanning through the document. "Let me guess, you want me to sign something?" he asked. Roldan shrugged then adjusted so he could hold the stack with one hand.

"Not yet. I merely wanted to deliver the new maps. They need your approval before anything can be cataloged," he said, secretly inspecting Jareth's person. He was closer now, and thus had begun to notice the full extent of Jareth's disheveled state. Were those thorns?

"And what's this?" Jareth asked. Roldan's eyes flickered up to find him glaring impatiently, then cocked a brow in the way of the giant leather book at the top of the pile.

"Oh, you don't recognize it? Figures..." he mumbled, but quickly carried on. "It's your family's ritual book. You know, the one passed down from generation to generation since the inception of the first Goblin King?" he asked, sarcastically. Jareth's unwavering expression conveyed his exact lack of amusement. Roldan sighed and rolled his eyes. Really now, what had gotten him so worked up _this_ time? "This is the book you and Sarah will be reciting from during your wedding ceremony, or did you forget how that works?" Jareth's eyes narrowed slightly, but he ignored Roldan's comment.

"So what are you doing with it exactly?" he asked.

"Well, I thought it might be beneficial to have Sarah, oh, I don't know, _learn_ the ritual before the time comes to enact it?" he suggested, only slightly beside himself. Jareth stared on oblivious and so Roldan's quandary only grew. "You remember the incantations, no?" he asked, rhetorically (he hoped). "Well, you may also remember that your bride will be reciting them too, and I don't know if you're aware but Sarah is not all too familiar with the grammatical dynamics of our ancient tongue. I was going to go through everything with her tomorrow morning so that she has the remainder of the week to practice. I was also going to ask if you could spare the time to be there as well-"

"What for?" Jareth snapped, leaving Roldan to wonder what exactly about his request had offended him. He sighed again. Oh, if only the correct answer was _not _the most obvious one.

"Because this is a partnership Jareth? A group effort? A duet? A dyad performance? It would probably help her orient herself if she were able to practice before hand with all parts present."

Roldan was starting to get annoyed now, but Jareth couldn't have looked more bored. Obviously there was something else far more important on the King's mind and it was starting to bug the hell out of him.

"Fine," Jareth said, stubbornly, then pulled the documents labeled for him out from under the obnoxious book. "I take it these are all for me then?" he asked.

"Well, technically yes. But you don't need to go through all of that yourself. You have advisors for a reason," Roldan said. Although they weren't as qualified as Fae, the Goblins Jareth employed were actually very competent. However, Jareth had a habit of taking on everything himself, even the tediousness of filing and paperwork. Being a bit controlling and suspicious of others weren't exactly bad traits for a King to have, however Jareth managed to take it to a whole new level.

Again Jareth ignored him, his eyes viciously scanning through documents.

"And If I want their advice I'll ask for it," he grumbled. "If this is all then I'll be on my way," he added, turning to walk past him without second thought- but Roldan was quick to stop him.

"Hold on. What were you doing out there anyway?" he asked, sensing this last opportunity to feed his curiosity. "You haven't flown in months. Did something happen?" he asked, meaning a problem within the kingdom, though Jareth interpreted his words in another manner.

"Oh, don't you start, too," Jareth snapped, then turned to storm away. Roldan caught him by the shoulder.

"Just hold on a bloody minute. Look at your coat. It's torn to shreds!"

Jareth stopped and turned back slowly. His gaze was piercing as he looked from Roldan's hand on his shoulder back up to his face.

"What are you doing?" he asked, his voice low. There was an awkward moment on Roldan's part, before he quickly withdrew his hand and scrambled for an explanation.

"If you crashed or got in a fight with something there's no shame in that," he said, and from Jareth's lack of reaction he figured he was way off the mark. "Regardless, you can't go around in those tattered rags. Give me your coat, I'll have it repaired for you."

Jareth cocked an eyebrow and then smiled in spite of himself, holding Roldan's stare to test whether or not he was serious. After a moment though, he gave a huff of laughter and shrugged out of his coat.

"I swear, you're worse than a mother," he said then shoved his coat hard into Roldan's chest. Roldan stumbled back, but felt a wave of relief at having diverted one of Jareth's fits once again. "Make sure that I am not disturbed for the remainder of the evening," he then said, calling back Roldan's attention.

"Alright."

"I mean it," Jareth repeated, locking stares until his point was well emphasized. "Not a single person. If you need anything send a Goblin," he said, leaving Roldan to infer that Jareth did not think of Goblins as people. He then turned and began walking away.

"Can I assume that you'll be in the mapping room?" Roldan called out. Jareth responded with a haphazard wave, and he assumed that meant yes. "And by _single person_, are you in fact referring to a _particular_person?" he asked. _...Seeing how there are only two..._ He saw Jareth shake his head and then run a hand through his hair, but he did not respond. That was just before rounding the corner of the hall, leaving Roldan standing alone.

_Well...okay then._

Roldan stared on for a moment, scrunching his brow as he wondered what exactly and how serious Jareth's problem was. He didn't seem totally ticked off. And while he assumed the cause was always and obviously Sarah, it could have been something else. He was out in the Labyrinth after all, maybe something out there had irked him? Hm, oh well. If Jareth did not want to tell him then it was none of his business. And, so long as work got done, he didn't really care either way. He turned and walked in the opposite direction, content to carry on with the rest of his regular duties.

* * *

"Honestly...at the very least he could have given me some warning...How does he expect to get anything done in one month?"

Roldan grumbled to himself, something he found himself doing quite often these days, as he carefully scribed a passage from the old and battered book before him. He'd relocated to a study, one of the smaller rooms in hope of maintaining isolation. It was odd, only four people were occupying this huge castle and yet at times the company felt stifling.

He'd read through the first sections of the book, and was now in the process of rewriting it. He'd pulled certain sections, but while he could understand the text perfectly, knew it would just be easier to transcribe them to english now and save himself the headache tomorrow. He'd give these copies to Sarah to study from. He wondered if she appreciated the lengths he went to to ensure her "education".

After a while he put his pen down. This was tedious to say the least and was in fact considering summoning a Goblin to come and finish the rest. He was highly tempted if it weren't for the significance of the book. Jareth might not care for its wellbeing, but Roldan knew better than to let a filthy Goblin near it. He sighed then and pinched the bridge of his nose. How did things manage to change so drastically?

_Knock. Knock. Knock._

There was a sound at the door. No, that was a lie. There was a sound at the frame of the door, for by the time he'd turned around to look, saw that the door was in fact open and a certain willowy Fae now filled its void. His despondent scowl lightened immediately out of simple relief that it was Mariella and not the other.

She scrunched her shoulders a little and winced, then bit her lip as she spoke.

"Um, I'm sorry. Forgive me if I've intruded," she said, waiting upon the threshold for his welcome before entering. Roldan turned further and relaxed a bit.

"Not at all," he said, then moved to stand. "Please, do come in. Was there something you needed?" he asked, eyeing her as she carefully entered the room.

"Oh, um. No, not really," she said, a bit awkwardly. The way she moved about was cautious and almost skittish. He wondered why she had come.

"I see," he said, taking his eyes away from her and sitting back down in his seat. "I must say, I'm surprised to see you. This time of day? I figured you'd be with Sarah," he said. Mariella smiled, tapping her fingers lightly on the back of a chair before deciding to join him at the table.

"Yes well...I've been relieved of my duties for the day and I must say, I find myself rather bored!" There was a bit of pip in her voice, but she was still nervous. He looked up then and regarded her.

"Oh really? Bored? _In this castle?_" he asked, sarcastically, and threw her one of his rare smiles. Unlike Sarah, he actually had some level of respect and even affinity for the nymph. She was exactly what a woman of the Underground should be, and he had hoped she would turn out to be a good influence on Sarah. That didn't seem to be the case, however. Actually, it might even be working the other way around.

Mariella brought a hand to cover her lips as she giggled and glanced away shyly.

"What can I say? I'm still but a stranger in this place. I don't have the slightest inclination of what to do when left alone. It's not really my place to go off and gallivant, although I have a feeling that is what Sarah intends when she quote, 'gives me the day off,'" she said, shrugging her shoulders and smiling.

"Why did she give you the day off, then? Jareth went through the trouble of clearing her schedule of me, I figured you two would be off cavorting somewhere."

"Oh! Well, we did go swimming this morning. If that's what you mean," she said, then looked down into her lap and shrugged yet again. "But it seems Sarah had some business with His majesty and so I was left on my own."

Roldan's brow twitched then.

"Business you say? And what time was this?" he asked, his voice taking on a more serious tone. Mariella's eyes rolled to the ceiling as she thought.

"Oh, around lunch I would say. She said she would summon me if she needed anything, though I did assume she would not. She never does. Oh, I would hate to put my burdens on her. I know she thinks she's doing me a favor by releasing me, but I really have nowhere to go! Nothing to do! I swear, I've done too many knit circles to count. I'm ashamed to say it, but I've just been wandering about for maybe an hour now, trying to discover anything Sarah and I might enjoy on a later day," she looked back to him and met him in the eye. "I do hope I haven't inconvenienced you. I know how busy you must be, but I saw the door here opened slightly and when I peeked inside, oh I just became so hopeful!" she said, with a breathy sigh to boot. Too bad Roldan wasn't listening to any of it. _Around noon she said? That was after I left him...but obviously before I ran into him this evening...damn it. Can't she just let things be?_

He found himself scowling again as Marie fluttered her lashes, but tuned back in to the present before she could take it personally.

"Yes. I am busy," he said, sounding rather ornery. Mariella started to frown and suddenly the skittishness was back.

"Oh...I see. Please forgive me then, I'll leave you at once," she said and quickly made move to stand. Roldan furrowed his brow and then realized what her problem had been all along.

"No. Wait. I apologize. Your presence is not a bother. Please, you may stay," he said, gesturing her to retake her seat. She was skeptical at first, but she wasn't lying about being hopeful. Was she really that nervous of him rejecting her? What a well-mannered woman.

"Are you sure?" she asked, sitting down slowly. Roldan smiled. It was such fresh air to see a woman being obedient.

"Yes. I'm busy, but not that busy. Perhaps you may even assist me," he said, playfully. Mariella lit up at that.

"Oh my, if I could be of any assistance!" she said, smile beaming bright. Roldan eyed her for a moment, pondering that smile of hers. It would be cruel of him to take advantage of her like this...

"Well, since you're so enthused," he started, reaching out for the book and sliding it across the table to her. "It would be a great help if you could finish these transcriptions for me. It would free me to deal with some other matters that need seeing to."

Ever eager, Mariella took the book carefully from his hold and quickly began inspecting it.

"Oh my...is this...His Majesty's grimoire?" She asked, looking up with both excitement and worry as her fingers curled possessively around it.

"_Ugh..._Yes. Yes it is," Roldan said, with laden disappointment. Mariella however, seemed nothing but avid.

"My...it's so old..." she murmured, now running her fingers down the brittle pages. "So much history...May I ask what it is you are transcribing?" she asked. Roldan answered by handing her sheets of parchment.

"Passages on marriage. Sarah is going to be going over this tomorrow and-"

"And you thought you would be so generous by translating everything for her in advance? Oh how thoughtful!" she interrupted, the excitement in her eyes causing him near-disbelief. It'd been a long time since he'd encountered someone so genuinely happy. "Of course I would love to help! It is such a tedious matter; please, feel free to focus on your other responsibilities, this task is safe with me."

And without another word did she get right to it. Roldan found himself watching her now, the way she ran her finger from line to line and bit her lip as she concentrated. It was odd. She was such a pleasant person, and yet he derived nothing from it.

"...I've marked the designated excerpts with tabs...let me know if any trouble arises," he said, reluctantly reaching for another folder. He'd never worked with another before, let alone a woman. The company was...

He kept quiet after that. While a small part of him felt just a tiny bit guilty over throwing her the grunt work, it had indeed freed him up to get even more work done and that far outweighed the cost. Mariella was quiet as well, adamantly focused on her given task. He would spy on her every so often, simply skeptical that she could be so ardent. She was one of Davion's after all. He had come to expect far different.

Finishing with a set of documents, he straightened them up and took them in hand. Mariella glanced up reflexively when he stood from his chair.

"I have an errand to run," he explained, grabbing a few more odds and ends from across the table. "I'll return shortly," he added, feeling the unwarranted need to do so. Mariella smiled and put her pen down.

"Of course. There is no need to explain yourself. Take all the time you need," she said, and again he was put off by her strange cheerfulness. He nodded and turned to leave but of course she would pipe up, "Oh, but before you go-" He glanced back to give her his attention. "I wanted to thank you properly," she said and he furrowed his brow.

"For what?" he asked and she shrugged.

"For allowing me the privilege of your company. Being who I am and where I am from, I am not so used to being by myself. I know at Lord Davion's, there were never less than three to a room at any given time. Also...I know there have been contentions between the lot of us, but I value time spent no matter who it is with. While you and Sarah may butt heads, I find your company to be rather enjoyable."

The way she grinned at the end was humble, they way her shoulders turned in and the way she held her head low was all just too perfect. It was too docile, too submissive. It was everything he wanted Sarah to be and yet...why was he thinking of Sarah?

"Thank you..." he started, beginning to feel vexed but for reasons unknown. "I also find your company to be most agreeable. If it were not for your good graces, I may not have survived through these past couple of weeks," he said, earning a delicate laugh. He smiled in return and, with a slight bow, left the room. If anything _she_ was the one who reminded him of _her_. So...so why did it all feel so empty?

He walked briskly down the corridor. It wasn't as if he were pressed for time, but the more proper parts of himself were compelled not to keep the good lady waiting. Jareth had said he would be in the mapping room. All he needed to do was drop off these forms and be on his way again. He wondered if Jareth would be in a better mood. He wondered what "business" he'd had with Sarah and why it had obviously gone sour.

He found himself shaking his head vigorously as he rounded the next corner. It felt like all he had been thinking about recently was Sarah and Jareth's twisted little relationship. Gods, it was annoying. Why couldn't he just enjoy Mariella's company? Why did he have to be so distracted all of the time?

As cruel irony would have it, he was interrupted by one such distraction obnoxiously calling his name.

* * *

"Roldan! Hey Roldan!"

The preemptive smile Sarah had been bolstering faded to a snarl as she found her outcry left abandoned yet again. She was excited at first. Excited? Well, she had no idea why, but spotting Roldan just then had been like a shining ray of hope beaming down on her dismal state of affairs. She had called out to him, though he hadn't stopped. It was a long hall after all, maybe he just hadn't heard her?

She called louder and again nothing. He rounded a corner and she skipped up ahead to gain on him. He was almost at the end of the next corridor by the time she made the corner. She was getting frustrated now. There was no way he hadn't heard her that time, and if she didn't know any better she would say he was actually walking faster than before. Was he trying to run away from her? Seriously?

She stomped her feet and yelled at the top of her lungs. Was it unladylike? Yes. Was it obnoxious? Quite a bit. Was it necessary? Absolutely.

He stopped that time. Stopped dead in his tracks and even cringed a little. She huffed and started walking towards him. These tunnels were perfect for resonating echoes. It must have been louder than hell at the other end. When he turned to face her he was about ready to blow the whole castle down.

"Hey. Did you not hear me calling you?" she asked, beating him to it. Roldan glared at her menacingly, scrunching his pile of papers in his hands.

"I don't think there was a single creature in this entire castle who did not hear you," he said, trying to quickly reign in his tempter. Sarah tried not to snicker.

"Well I had no choice. It was either that or sprint after you. Where are you off to in such a hurry anyway?" she asked, beginning to look around and orient their location. Roldan straightened up and cleared his throat.

"I am busy doing my job. What business is it of yours?" he asked, irritably. Sarah shrugged. She really hadn't cared either way.

"It's not. I am glad I found you though."

"Really? And why is that?" he asked. She began to look around then, as if she did not want to meet him in the eye.

"I was wondering...if you know where Jareth is..."

Roldan stared at her hard and tried not to growl.

"Perhaps. Why do you want to know?" he asked. Sarah rose a brow and crossed her arms.

"Because I would like to go see him? And I cannot do that because I do not know where he currently is?" she cattily explained. Roldan's scowl steadily deepened.

"Too bad," he said, a phrase which jerked back her attention. "I was told explicitly that he is not to be disturbed by anyone. Even you," he added, with some satisfaction. Sarah scowled and pouted a bit.

"Did he say why?" she asked. Roldan shrugged.

"Not particularly. Does it matter? Why don't you run on back to your room. I'll even send Mariella to look after you."

She glared harder then. Oh, he was just having a blast with this wasn't he?

"You know, there's no reason to be such an ass. So please save it. I'm being serious here. I need to talk to Jareth," she said, feet firmly rooted. Roldan held her stare, testing the resolve in those words.

"Do you now? And pray tell me, why should I go against a direct order when I know doing so will only bring both myself and Jareth grief?"

"Because you don't know anything," Sarah said, with a strong gaze that had him fighting for a comeback. After a moment however, she broke her stare and sighed, glaring off to the side quite petulantly. "Listen. It's not what you think. Yes, we may have kind of gotten in a fight this morning but...That's why I need to see him. I want to apologize."

Roldan's brow rose high, as that was the last thing he expected to hear from her.

"You admit that so willingly. I can't help but think you're trying to persuade me," he replied, not falling for her act for one second. Instead of getting defensive however, Sarah surprised him yet again by closing her eyes and taking a deep breath.

"I don't care what you think. I'm telling the truth. I don't need to justify nor validate that to you. But could you please just tell me where he is? If he doesn't want me there then I'm sure I won't even be able to open the door. And don't worry, if you get in trouble I'll take the heat for it okay?"

"You would take a reprimand from Jareth, for me?" he asked, in disbelief.

"Yes. I told you this is serious. I know you don't believe me, but for once I'm not going there to fight."

The amount of contemplation playing across Roldan's face was blatant and actually quite insulting. Sarah felt a scowl tugging at her features as she stared at him and waited.

"...fine."

Sarah's eyes actually widened. _Wh-what?_

"Wait, seriously?" she asked, an instant smile betraying her. Roldan narrowed his eyes, already regretting the decision.

"I no longer care about what goes on between you two, and I've got bigger things to worry about than whatever temper tantrum either of you decides to throw. At least if you're together, you'll throw it at one another instead of me," he explained, his vacant stare leaving her as he began an impromptu escort down the hall. Sarah stayed close to his side, surprised and eager he had agreed so easily.

"Well, I won't disagree with you there," she said, knotting her fingers behind her back as she pretended to be carefree. "Where is he anyway?"

"In the cartography room."

Sarah stared at him blankly.

"The what?" she asked. Roldan sighed.

"Maps. The mapping room."

Sarah nodded and looked away.

"Oh. Oh yea, I remember him showing me that. It's the one with all the funky wallpaper right?" she asked. This time Roldan peered down to her with a raised brow. Was that meant to be rhetorical?

"If by _funky _you mean expertly crafted, intricately detailed world maps, then yes," he said. Sarah shrugged and ignored his condescending tone.

"Yea...There's some pretty cool stuff in there...globes and little model boats...what's he doing in there?" she asked, the knotting of her fingers increasing the further they walked down the hall. She stared at the floor now, eyes wide and biting her lip. Roldan didn't seem to notice.

"One can assume something with maps."

Sarah glared up then.

"Har har, you're so funny," she said sardonically and then stopped walking. He too stopped and glanced back at her.

"What?"

"What are you carrying?" she asked. Roldan began to regard her now...she seemed nervous all of the sudden.

"Some documents that need Jareth's seeing to. I was on my way to him when you intercepted me," he explained. Sarah bit her lip again.

"Oh..um, do you think that maybe...I could bring them to him?" she asked, wincing just as Mariella did when asking to enter the room. Roldan was hesitant for a moment, though not quite sure why,

"These are royal documents, entrusting them to a mere mortal could be a great risk on my part," he said, observing the way she frowned.

"Well, it's not like I'm going to run off and throw them out a window," she said, trying to laugh. "I just...I'd like it better if I saw him alone," she said, giving in to meet him in the eye, hoping he would understand. He gripped his papers tighter as he held her stare, then sighed as his grip relaxed.

"You realize how much trouble I'm going to be in for allowing you to see him?" he asked, handing over the papers. She stared at the floor as she accepted them.

"Yeah...probably. I promise though, I'll do my best to spare you, and I'll owe you one."

She held the paper close to her chest as she stepped away from him, and it became clear that her true desire was to use them as a shield. His expression softened in spite of himself and he fought the urge to groan.

"I'll be sure to remember that," he said, then looked down the hall. "Alright then..." he started, then paused to clear his throat. "just keep going down this hall, take the third left and then the first right. It's the last door at the end of the hall. Oh and take this too," he said and tossed her a coat which apparently had appeared out of thin air. She eyed it strangely.

"Okay..." Sarah said, then took a tentative step away. Now relieved of that duty, Roldan turned to head back to Mariella. "Oh, and by the way-" she said. He stopped and turned back, his expression impatient. "Thank you for this. I really am grateful." She smiled at him, and then turned away to take her leave briskly down the hall.

Roldan found himself immobile, his brow furrowed as he stared after her. He'd never seen her act quite like that and found himself wondering...who this girl really was and why...how had she managed to capture_everyone's_ attention?

When he returned to Mariella his head was cast down. He rejoined her silently, but she was still too engrossed in her task to notice his funk. With a deep breath he resumed his work, but he knew it wouldn't stay quiet for long.

"So...Master Roldan, what do you know about Daemons?"

  



	109. An Impregnable Defense part 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While unbeknown to her, Sarah has succeeded in obtaining the one thing the Goblin King has desired for hundreds of years -power over the Labyrinth. After being hidden for years from his diabolical wrath, Sarah finds herself alone and vulnerable as Jareth's dark desires are finally aloud to rear their ugly heads. As always, the only question is, are things really as they seem?

The room was quiet, perturbed. There was a tension in the air; it created a pressure about oneself, a kind of distilled emptiness. It was suffocating -this silence, this...immobility.

He took a deep breath and the faint sound of exasperation that escaped him was enough to draw the attention of wayward eyes. He glared at those eyes, at the loss and fear in them. His fingers tapped restlessly against his biceps and he returned to glowering at the floor.

"How long do you think they'll make us wait?" a voice asked, filled with the same worry as its gaze. Jareth snarled a bit and shrugged. His patience had run out long ago.

"I don't know. Probably when he's dead," he said, his tone aggravated. They'd been waiting for an hour now. He rolled his eyes and shifted his position against the wall. Davion, sitting across from him, lowered his gaze and continued to frown at the floor.

"You shouldn't say things like that...it's disrespectful," he murmured. Jareth had to stop himself from growling.

"_Tch_, disrespectful. As if I give a fuck. I wish he'd just hurry up and get it over with. I've got more important things to do that wait around for his bell to toll."

Davion flinched at the volatility in Jareth's words and knotted his hands in his lap.

"See...that's what I'm talking about. You know how Mother feels about you speaking like that."

"Well Mother isn't here, is she?" Jareth snapped, then began to pace about the room. "Honestly, what possible reason could there be to keep us waiting here? Were we not summoned by him? The bloody servants whisper and cower about the King's deathbed and yet he keeps us waiting? His own sons? It's insulting-"

"You say that as if you actually want to be at his side," Davion interrupted. Jareth turned and glared.

"No, I would much rather be as far away from this place as possible."

"Then why don't you leave?"

The way Davion continually gaped at him was annoying as hell, full of patronizing things like_ sincerity_ and _genuine concern. _Jareth stopped his pacing and slouched back against the wall.

"You know why. I would have said it was merely a flesh wound, but if he's bothered to summon us at all you know what that means. The old fool is going to die and finally pass down what is rightfully ours."

"Rightfully yours, you mean," Davion corrected. Jareth shot him as eye along with a reflexive smile.

"Yes. However, what is mine is also yours, isn't that right?" Davion's response was a humble shrug and a forced smirk just for the sake of it. Jareth found his smile fading, as it seemed his younger brother was genuinely distraught. "You shouldn't frown like that. People will think you're pathetic."

Davion's head shot up just then but, before he could get the chance to rebut, the door suddenly opened. Both men turned their gazes and straightened themselves up.

It was a woman, small and frail. Her delicate hands pushed open the door and then quickly recoiled to clutch the shawl she draped around herself. Her gaze was lowered, her dark hair obscuring the messy streaks running down her face. The door shut gently behind her and she took a moment to compose herself.

"Mother," Jareth said, watching her closely. She was more frazzled than usual. Well, it made sense. Her husband was about to die.

She sniffled then lifted her head, forcing a smile and brushing the hair from her face.

"Mother, are you alright?" Davion asked, moving to her side and gently holding her.

"Yes, yes child I am just fine..." she said, then patted his head and urged him to cease, and only then did she open her eyes to meet Jareth's. "I want to thank you both for waiting here so patiently," she said, quickly flickering her eyes away from the aura of irritation that radiated around him.

"What exactly are we waiting for?" Jareth asked, his tone earning a glare from Davion. The woman closed her eyes and let out a shallow breath.

"As I'm sure you've heard...the King has taken ill," she said. Jareth rolled his eyes and gave in to lean back against the wall once more.

"Scratched by a Crag. One would think the King would know how to handle himself better," Jareth said, mockingly. Davion furrowed his brow, worried for his mother and the tension he could feel building within her.

"You also know that Crags are deathly poisonous. What was thought to be a minor scratch has turned into a dire infection..." she said, trailing off with worry. Jareth sneered and started to laugh.

"Ha. Too arrogant to clean his own wounds? How ironic. A befitting death, I should say."

He was too busy snickering to notice the step of his mother or the hand she had raised. His snickering fell silent however when the sound of a stark slap cut the air. Davion held his breath and stepped aside.

The sting in Jareth's cheek was sharp and he raised a hand to sooth it as he turned back to glare at his mother, only to be rendered speechless by the fierceness in her eyes.

"Insolent child!" she exclaimed, with such weakness and waver, tears were already pouring down her cheeks. Jareth eased up immediately and his expression gaped. Never did she raise her voice let alone a hand to him, only when defending _him_. Only when defending his father. "How dare you mock this travesty. Do you forget? He may be your King but he is also your father and you will show him respect!" She gasped at the end of her sentence, her small hands fisted and her wide eyes beamed up at him through brimming tears. She fought so hard to keep herself composed that both brothers feared she might overwhelm herself and collapse then and there. She was not a strong woman. Jareth was quiet for a moment, just plain stupefied. "Do you understand?!" she asked, and after another moment of blinking Jareth finally lowered his head before her.

"Yes...Yes, I apologize. I did not mean to upset you. My words were out of line...forgive me, Mother."

Glaring away sharply, Aleigha sniffled and wiped the tears from her eyes, then tried to gulp down the last bits of tremble in her voice.

"This may very well be your father's last night on this earth. I do not care for whatever resentment you hold for him, you will show him compassion -not as his subject but as his son," she stated.

"Yes Mother."

She stared at him for a moment, but grief quickly overtook her once more. Not able to bear the sight of her son, she covered her quivering lips with one hand and gently urged for him to look up at her with the other.

"Oh, you poor child..." she muttered. Jareth kept his eyes lowered as she inspected the red mark on his face, but his brow furrowed deeply when he noticed she had started to cry once more. "But you are also _my_son..." she said. His eyes peered towards her. "And you are so very much like him. Sometimes, it is easy to forget that...I can't believe I- I am sorry I struck you," she said, quickly soothing away the mark with magic. "Will you forgive me?" she asked. Jareth was silent. It was always the same. Mother was so fragile, so tender. She loved them all, but she loved his father most. That was something Jareth could never understand, and in moments like this, when she was so racked with guilt that he thought she may fall to pieces in his very arms, he could react in no other way than to hold onto her tighter. How she withstood someone so cruel, he had no idea. He never understood how she could love someone like that...someone who she thought was very much like him.

"Of course," Jareth said, raising his hands to gently brush the remaining tears from her face. "Please, no more tears. Not for my sake."

She held his hand against her cheek and closed her eyes, then glanced back to Davion as she settled down.

"Please pardon my outburst...He has requested to see you...both of you," she said, then released her son's hand and stepped away from him. "Given the situation...it could prove consequential to keep him waiting. You should go in," she said, then, while keeping her head down, moved towards the door on the other side of the room. "Cherish this time with him...I beg of you," she said, and then she was gone.

The boys remained immobile even after their mother had left and deep down Jareth was still just as angry. It was like torture seeing their mother like that. He did everything he could to make her happy; and yet, he could hardly remember a time when she ever truly smiled. He hated that man. He hated her as well.

Davion watched eagerly as a myriad of dark thoughts played across his brother's face and waited for his decision; but when it seemed like none would come, he instead spoke up.

"Maybe we should go in now...he won't like it if we keep him waiting...and I don't want to upset Mother again," he said. With a gruff sigh, Jareth tore his eyes away from the door.

"Fine then. Lead the way."

It was Davion who entered first. He entered slowly, but to both their surprise found it quite empty. It was strange. This room was once so familiar to them -the room of their parents- but now it was foreign and threatening. Straight ahead of them stood the bed and upon it...

They were silent, wary as they approached. It looked as if he were sleeping, his skin pale and leathery, his cheeks hollowed, a pool of blood gradually seeping through the layers of blanket that covered him. It was so quiet that Jareth wondered if he were dead already.

Then the corpse coughed and opened its eyes.

He coughed and choked and staggered for breath, and the pool of blood deepened.

"Well, it's about time," he said, messily wiping a splatter of blood from his lips. Both boys winced and kept their eyes away. "Figures you'd think you could get away with such petulance while I lay here, withering in my own decomposition," he then said and coughed again as he tried to sit up. Davion reached out to help him, but the gesture never made it. His father's eyes narrowed on his recoiling hand. "And such wonderful manners you have, watching a sick man struggle," he said, sarcastically. Davion frowned while Jareth's scowl deepened.

"As if you would accept any man's pity, especially your sons'" Jareth said, not making a single move to help him. Davion struggled, torn between who to stand by, his brother or his father.

Their father laughed then. It was brutal and ugly, and yet still Jareth did not move.

"Ah, pity. What a terrible thing that is. No, I suppose I'll have to make due with that condescending look of yours instead," he said and gestured for someone to hand him the handkerchief that sat on the table beside them. Jareth crossed his arms and glared harder. "...However I may remind you that there is a difference between pity and sympathy, even just plain assistance," he grumbled with annoyance and gestured for the cloth again.

"There is only pity for you," Jareth said, and with a grumble tossed the cloth in his lap. Thaelon smiled and shrugged.

"From you? Yes well, I suppose there's no point in pretending then, is there?" he asked. Davion frowned, but there were no words for him to say.

"I suppose so. They say you're going to die. Is that true?" Jareth asked. Thaelon took a deep breath and closed his eyes.

"I don't know. We can never really say until we can no longer say."

"Perhaps you should have been more careful. Letting yourself be probed by an animal is hardly a noble death."

Thaelon rose his brow and glanced down to his stomach, to the dark red stain that was gradually stealing his life, and again he shrugged with indifference.

"Death is death. To _festoon_ it by something as trivial as vanity seems like such a waste of energy."

Jareth smiled then. How ridiculous.

"Is that so? Has the narrow tunnel made you wise in your final moments? Or are you simply feigning you hadn't wished to have prepared a more glorious end?" Jareth smiled as he spoke. A nasty smile. One his father could appreciate. Thaelon's eyes began to narrow.

"Perhaps...or perhaps I no longer have the energy nor care to entertain your weak antagonizations," he said.

Jareth huffed and crossed his arms.

"Why have you called us here then? Against Mother's better wishes, I know it wasn't to exchange affirmations of love in our final farewells."

Thaelon started shifting again, trying to find a comfortable position.

"You're right," he said, then rose his handkerchief to cover his mouth while he coughed. "Your mother is an idiot," he added. "-to think I would want to spend my final moments looking at your smug faces...Between her blubbering and your mockery I wish I had died already."

The smirk fell from Jareth's face then and Davion found himself biting his tongue. The gaul of this man...

"How dare you. Be it your whim she would follow you into the pit of Hell and yet on your very death bed you would belittle such lasting faith and loyalty," Jareth said. His father quirked a curious brow.

"Follow me into Hell? Oh, I have no doubt of that," he said. Jareth's jaw tensed. "But may I remind you of who it is you are berating? You are but a child and understand nothing. You do not fool me, you are full of petulance and merely wish you could control your women thusly," he said, sounding so smug. Davion looked from him back to Jareth, concerned that things may get out of hand. It didn't take much to set Jareth off, not when it came to their father at least.

"Do you really take pride in the terror you inflict upon her?" he asked. A chuckle was his answer.

"Such naivety. You only feel this way because she is your mother; but mark my words, the day you own a woman you will take pride in the same pleasures. And your children? They shall despise you all the same."

"Because I am like you?" Jareth asked. Thaelon smiled again.

"Of course. And so is Davion. You are both my legacy and a legacy is what you shall be. Embrace it now and gaze upon the glorious future that awaits you!" He rose his arms haphazardly in a sarcastic gesture about himself. The energy it took just to communicate had caused a sheen of sweat to form over his brow, which beaded and dripped down to his chapped mouth. His vision was disgusting and if it weren't for the point that Jareth had been waiting to get to, he would have stormed out then and there.

"You are repulsive," Jareth said. His father laughed.

"Such kinds words for an ailing man. Could you show any more impatience? One might think you're waiting for me to die," he said, sarcastically. With a growl, Jareth turned to stomp away. Where he was going, he didn't know. He just couldn't stand looking at his father's face.

"And where do you think you're going?" he asked, and when Jareth didn't answer he shouted, "Stop!"

As commanded, Jareth stopped in place and cursed himself for doing so. The fury about him began to boil. The deathly King smiled and eased back. _So defiant_, and yet _so easily_ controlled. "Boy," he said, with warning. "You dare to turn your back on the King?" Jareth fisted his hands. He knew this tone, this malicious superiority. "I have business with you, heir to my _legacy_. Turn around and show me the deference befitting one as pathetic and as greedy as you."

Jareth was silent. He was so angry he could barely contain it. The audacity of that man. The crass with which he insulted him was simply infuriating. How his mother, the poor sweet woman she was, could ever claim to love this monster was dumbfounding. And she said they were alike. She said they were so similar. He was nothing like him. He was nothing like his father.

He felt a hand on his shoulder and immediately the fire quelled. He turned and saw Davion gazing up at him with sympathy. His expression hardened then. She never compared her second son to that beast.

"Jareth...please...you know what you have to do," he whispered.

_Know what you have to do._ Yes, he knew what he had to do: swallow his pride and deal with it. The fool would be dead by dawn and he would never have to grovel again. He would never have to bow to anyone again. He would never have to witness the pain he inflicted. Ever. Again.

With a gruff manner, Jareth turned and went back to his father's side and waited. Davion stood beside him and both stared at the floor. This was stupid. This was bloody humiliating. He could envision the smirk on his father's face, envision the way he reveled whenever they bent the knee.

Thaelon took a few seconds to appreciate the moment.

"Well, now that we've gotten all of that out of the way, I believe it's time to get to what you've so obviously been waiting for," he said, earning a twitch in Jareth's brow. Upon seeing his son's reaction, he smiled and snickered a little. "_Hmph_, for shame. If only your mother could see you now; she mourns the death of her beloved and you await in anticipation for the prize it grants you. We really are all too similar, my son. I suppose that should grant me solace in the prospect of my kingdom's future...Or perhaps that means we are all doomed," he said, mockingly. It took everything Jareth had to remain silent. "Davion," he stated, and Davion's head shot up. "As second born, you shall receive nothing," he said and immediately turned to Jareth. "Jareth-" he said and waited for he to look up as well. "As first born, you shall inherit my throne, my land, my people. I have done all that I can to prepare you for the task ahead, however, your many shortcomings I can no longer compensate, and in my final moments I shall pray for the land and those who follow. Once I am dead you will become King. Do what you will with it. Gods help us all."

His father fell silent after that, leaving Jareth waiting for the _prize_ that never came. He looked up and saw his eyes had closed and that he had apparently fallen asleep. Jareth just stared at him and after a moment shook his head and asked,

"That's it?"

Thaelon rose a brow and turned towards him.

"What? Were you expecting something more than an entire kingdom? Stupid boy. Send for your mother on your way out," he said and shoo'd them away.

Jareth remained still.

"I think you're forgetting something, Father," he said, slowly. Davion became on edge. What was their father up to?

"Am I? Like what?" he asked. Jareth let his anger show then and glared viciously at his father.

"You know exactly what! Give me the Labyrinth!"

Thaelon's eyes widened delightfully.

"What? Was that a command? From you? Oh, dear boy, you should not have done that," he said and with a snap of his fingers, Goblins started to enter the room. "Escort my sons back to their-"

"No!" Jareth shouted and lunged towards his father. "You wretched old man, you will give me what is rightfully mine," he demanded, leaning in and taking hold of his crippled father by the collar. Davion tried to separate them, but a raised hand from Jareth was all it took to keep him back. Thaelon smiled brilliantly, the livid rumble in his pale blue eyes radiating through his withered skin.

"Well look at you, thinking you can take hold of me thusly. How crude. What are you going to do, kill me? You don't have it in you."

"Don't I? I would love nothing more than to smite that malignant sneer from your face once and for all. To think that credit should go to a mindless animal is insulting. You will bestow me what is rightfully mine as the future King of this land or I shall take it from you by force," Jareth said. The challenge in his father's eyes reflected his own and he hated it. He despised it like nothing else. And that smile. That smile just kept growing.

"No, I don't think you understand. You _really_ don't have it in you," he said and with a flick of his finger sent Jareth flying back and crashing into the dresser behind him. The Goblins went on edge but waited for a signal before intervening. Thaelon started laughing then. "_Haha._ Pathetic. Even on my death bed you are no match for me. Go on, try your best. See what happens," he laughed, coughing and heaving without care for the consequences. Davion moved to help Jareth up, but was quickly pushed away.

"You would really revoke this rite? A rite that has been passed down the line of this monarchy for thousands of years? How am I to rule the land without it?!" Jareth yelled. He was in shock, pure shock. He knew his father was wicked and spiteful, but he never thought he would go so far... "Are you really so abominable? Would you really cause this kingdom such affliction out of your spite towards me?" he asked.

"My spite towards you?" Thaelon repeated. "How presumptuous. To think that I would bestow such immeasurable power upon someone as selfish and narcissistic as you. You think that because you are to be King that title alone grants you the right, that because of who you are that everything shall be lain at your feet? It is because of that ignorance and that selfishness that you are entitled to nothing."

Jareth just...

"Unbelievable! You dare speak of selfishness and narcissism to me?! You, who have pillaged your own land, plundered your own people, suffered the realm, your own family, for the sake of some twisted idea of legacy! You have done more harm to the realm than the past five generations of tyranny, and all so they remember your name! You are the one who is unworthy!" he roared, overwhelmed by the panic and anger that this had brought about in him. Without the Labyrinth's power he could never truly be King. He could never wield the land as every King before him had. What would happen without it? What would happen if the land suffered any more than it already had? He couldn't - he refused- to accept it.

"You are right, and you are my son!" Thaelon exclaimed."You are my truest reflection and in my death I have seen the way of things. Perhaps the greatest act of atonement I could ever bestow this land is to never leave it in the hands of someone as ruinous as me," he said, a revelation that hit Jareth hard. Over the past few weeks of his father's illness, he'd been compared to him more times than ever before. But this...to hear it from his father's own mouth- Taking advantage of Jareth's shock, Thaelon reached out and yanked him down. "If you want this power, fight for it," he said. "Become worthy of it and then take it." He shoved him away and as Jareth stumbled back called for the Goblins. "Now then, guards!" he yelled, "I fear my sons have become overwhelmed with grief, please escort them to their chamber and keep strict watch over them."

Completely dumbfounded, it didn't take much for Davion to drag his brother away. The guards hustled them out and closed the door, locking it firmly behind them. They took the princes to their room and left them together to wade out the night.

The clock ticked slowly during those last dreadful hours.

"I don't...I don't believe this. It's..." Jareth's words trailed off, after a long, agonizing silence, that was all he could come up with. Davion sat on the couch across from him, weighed heavily with worry.

"I know," Davion said.

"Why would he- I just don't understand."

"Maybe it's a test?" Davion posed. Jareth started shaking his head.

"No. It can't be. He's just...evil. He knows I would be a far better King than he ever could be and he hates it. He'd rather see this kingdom fall than let me rise above him."

"...Are you sure? Do you really think he'd go to such lengths? I mean...if the Labyrinth loses its master...what happens then?" Davion asked. Jareth shook his head.

"I have no idea...this is fucked. Even now he's still too powerful for me to kill...and once he dies, I will become King, making it impossible to compete in the Labyrinth's challenge, and if he won't give it to me..." His words trailed off.

"I could do it."

Jareth looked up.

"Do what?"

"...Compete. You heard him, I receive nothing. Perhaps I could compete. If I win, I'll just concede the hold to you," he suggested. Jareth started to sit up, that idea held promise.

"That...that might actually work...if the Labyrinth deems you qualified..." he said, his sentence lost to contemplation. Davion started to perk up.

"Once Father passes...we should go to the crypt and summon her," he suggested. Jareth nodded in agreement. This may be a disastrous situation, but maybe there was a way to fix it. He started to relax a bit at the idea of it; if Davion could solve the Labyrinth, everything would work out fine...

That brief moment of ease was ended by the sound of the door flying open.

"What on earth have you done!"

Davion jumped to his feet and Jareth turned around to find their mother approaching them quite hurriedly. Jareth stood and met her halfway.

"Mother, what are you-"

"He's dead!" she exclaimed. Jareth and Davion both went still, and for a moment were completely numb to their mother's wailing. "What did you do Jareth? All I asked was for a moment of solace, one moment for us to be a family. But you just can't..."

"What- what are you talking about?" Jareth finally asked, shaking his head clear of shock and grasping her by the shoulders. Tears poured down her face and she swayed as if about to faint.

"You attacked him?!" she shouted, taking hold of his shirt and jerking on him. She was frantic. He'd never seen her like this... "You attacked your father on his deathbed! What is wrong you! Demented child! He had but one night left and you took it from him! You took him from me!" She cried into his shirt, hanging on to him for dear life, fearful that if she dare let go she may be swept away as well.

"I did not kill him," Jareth asserted, wishing so desperately that he had. He was still processing what she had said. His father was dead? Just like that? It was impossible to believe. His mother shook her head and buried her face in the collar of his shirt.

"Of course not. Never by your own hand. But did you really think such exertion would not affect him? He had to repel you with magic! Did you not understand how weak he was? Whatever disagreements you had, were they really so great that they could not be put aside for just one conversation? All I wanted...All I wanted was for-"

Her tears overtook her then, rendering her words incomprehensible. Putting aside the issue at hand, Jareth gave in to console her. He held her close, as he always did, and soothed way her tears. However...this time it was not so simple.

"What am I to do now Jareth? How am I to live without him? Do you have any idea-"

"What are you to do now? Are you really asking me that, Mother?" He pulled her away from his chest and looked down into her eyes. "You're free now. Free to live. Do _you_ not understand?" He spoke tenderly to her, with hope and promise. He didn't understand why her expression became so horrified.

"What is life devoid of the one you love? What is eternity spent alone? I have never been without him. I don't know how- You...you both have the world ahead of you, you couldn't possibly comprehend what it means to have that world taken away."

Jareth stared at her with a frown, oddly disconcerted as he mulled over her words. He didn't understand...he truly didn't. He found himself now unable to console her, and upon sensing this, Davion moved in and took her from his arms.

"It will be alright Mother...death is a natural stage of life. He is not gone, he has simply returned to nature," he said, moving the matted hair from her sodden cheeks. Jareth looked away. He couldn't be a part of this anymore. If Mother had been right, if he truly had killed his father then the Labyrinth would be his...he didn't feel anything, no change, no shift in the air...that's when he realized that there was a difference between killing someone and simply causing their death. "Come, I'll take you to your chambers...sleep will be good for you, we'll deal with everything else in the morning."

He tuned back in to find Davion leading their mother away, her delicate frame wobbling from grief. Davion looked back and met him in the eye and nodded. Jareth nodded back and merely watched as his brother turned away to give their mother his complete attention.

He was left alone after that. Alone and shaken. It felt as if so many things had happened and were about to happen and he was numb to their concurrent impact. His father was dead. The Labyrinth was free. The world as he knew it was about to change.

_The King was dead..._

* * *


	110. An Impregnable Defense part 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While unbeknown to her, Sarah has succeeded in obtaining the one thing the Goblin King has desired for hundreds of years -power over the Labyrinth. After being hidden for years from his diabolical wrath, Sarah finds herself alone and vulnerable as Jareth's dark desires are finally aloud to rear their ugly heads. As always, the only question is, are things really as they seem?

"Long live the King..."

Jareth grumbled as he stared at the map before him and he soon realized he had been spacing out for quite some time. He took a deep breath and pinched the bridge of his nose. Damn memories...they needed to stay buried. All this talk from Sarah and Liana was bringing things back...things he'd rather forget. Those versions of he and Davion seemed so fictitious now. Time changed a lot of things -especially people. He doubted anyone would ever believe his brother to have been so compassionate...so earnest.

He sighed and sat back. When his eyes spied the clock, he found that he no longer cared about the time he'd wasted. 500 years was a long time...and look how much that had amounted to. This snap back to reality had been a sobering one and he found himself feeling more put out than angry at this point. That was probably a good thing...considering who happened to open the door just then.

She started with a knock, a polite, quiet little tap. He had glanced up reflexively, but of course she didn't even give him the chance to ask "who's there?" before turning the handle.

She came in with a stack of papers held close to her chest, an entrance eerily similar to that morning. He wasn't sure if it was the deja vu that annoyed him or the fact that Roldan had quite plainly defied his orders. He scowled when she opened her mouth to speak.

"Um...I know I'm probably bothering you but..." Although she had already opened the door, she waited for his welcome before entering. He watched the way her fingers moved anxiously along the edges of the paper and he let out a long breath.

"You're already here, aren't you?" he said and looked away from her and back to his work. To be honest, he couldn't even remember what it was he had been doing. She tapped her fingers against the folder and stepped into the room. It looked exactly like she remembered it, cluttered and filled to the brim with random stuff. There were barrels filled with scrolls, shelves toppled with books, desks covered in papers and strange doodads. She spotted the model ship she remembered seeing before and gradually gravitated towards it.

"I ran into Roldan in the hall," she said, trying to feign the same disinterest he did and focused on the model. _This boat is just so interesting_..

"Did you now?" he asked, not bothering to look up. Sarah bit the inside of her cheek. She knew that tone. He was going to stonewall her. At least he hadn't told her to get out.

"Um...yeah. He wanted to me bring you these," she said, holding out the papers she held. Jareth looked at her, his expression communicating plainly his inability to reach them from the other side of the room. Realizing her blunder, she jolted over towards the desk and offered them to him. His expression became bored as he took them from her. At least now he had something to focus on.

"When he bestowed you this task, did he happen to mention that I did not want to be disturbed _by anyone?_" he asked. Sarah felt the weight in his words and bit her lip. This was awkward. She'd never been in this situation before.

"Yes actually...and I may have...coerced him into telling me where you were," she admitted, embellished actually. She really hadn't coerced him at all, as surprising as that was.

"Well you found me. And as you can see I am quite busy. Why don't you scuttle on back to your room," he said, waving her off. Sarah frowned. How disheartening.

"Actually, I wanted to talk to you-"

"Again?" he interrupted. Sarah fell silent. "Haven't we talked enough today?"

Sarah stared down at the floor, contemplating actually listening to him, but then remembered the other package Roldan had supplied her with.

"Oh, I'm s'posed to give you this too," she said and offered out the coat she now remembered he had been wearing earlier. She didn't quite understand why Roldan wanted her to give him this, nor the expression that lit up Jareth's face upon seeing it in her possession, but it was an expression of something other than anger and she chose to roll with it. "Is there a reason Roldan had your coat?" she asked. Jareth, smirking in spite of himself, shook his head and tore it from her grasp.

"Because he's an idiot," he said and tossed it on the back of a chair. Now devoid of all her shields, Sarah gave in to knotting her fingers behind her back.

"Oh...um, Okay," she said, trying not to teeter on her heels. "...So listen," she finally said, though not quite ready for his undivided attention. "I wanted to talk to you...about earlier-"

"What about it?" he snapped. Sarah tried not to meet him in the eye.

"I wanted...I wanted to actually thank you. I wanted to thank you and to say that I'm sorry."

"Sorry?" he repeated.

"Yes...I'm sorry...for putting you in that situation. I understand that it wasn't pleasant for either of us."

"Unpleasant? You're being a bit scrupulous with your words, aren't you?" he asked, his tone still jaded from earlier. Sarah took a deep breath and summoned all her remaining courage.

"Alright, if you really want me to leave, I will. But first...just humor me, please?" she asked, meeting his gaze with pleading eyes. He tore himself away from those eyes and shifted about his chair.

"Well then...get on with it," he said. Taking advantage of the opportunity, she spied an empty chair beside the desk and sat closer to him.

"Alright. I want you to understand...that I understand," she started, trying to hold his gaze but realized she stood a better chance without it. "I've been thinking about this for a while now and...I mean come on, I think it's understandable that I'm terrified. I've only been with you for like...what is it, one month? I feel like I'm just starting to know you and...I just...can only handle one thing at a time right now. But I get where you're coming from too. In this world...my job as a wife is to bear you children, I get that. And I get that it's a hundred times more important because you're a King. And I get that asking for a contraceptive is even worse than simply not having kids. It's sacrilegious...it goes against nature and you guys are all about nature and believe me I get how important this all is. I also know that not too long ago...I wouldn't have cared about any of that. I'm still aware of how I ended up here...I'm still aware of all the reasons I have not to care about these rules or your feelings...But I've decided to look past that. I've decided to move on. And it is because I've made that decision that I know how I must have hurt you...but I need you to believe me when I say that it isn't about you." She looked up then and found he was watching her intently. She gulped down the anxiety that caused her and carried on. "I won't lie. At first...yes. When you first brought me here and _all of that_ happened...I was terrified of being forced to have your offspring. I didn't even view them as being people...to me they were little monsters...I was terrified because they would be yours, but I was even more terrified that they wouldn't be mine. I'm still afraid of that...that instead of making me feel like a part of this world, they'll make me feel like even more of an outsider. That's why I just need time...to be here, be with you...to not be so angry with you all the time. To keep moving on. And I know I shouldn't have said the things I said at the end...I...that was callous of me and for that too I'm sorry." She took another pause and let her eyes wander up to his. She wasn't sure what his expression meant. It was stern, cold even.

"I suppose it's rather easy to lay your heart on your sleeve like this, considering you are the one who got what you wanted," he said and to that Sarah frowned.

"I suppose it is," she admitted and looked down into her lap. "I can't really express how much it means to me...not just what it is but the fact that you did it for me."

"Does it?" Jareth asked. She looked back up to him and he...why did he look angry? "Does it really mean that much to you?" he repeated. She opened her mouth to speak but was thrown off by his sudden aggression.

"Y-yes?" she answered and his brow furrowed deeper.

"Then why do you look so miserable?" Again she opened her mouth to speak but nothing came. "You got exactly what you wanted, made a fool of me in the process and yet you can't even smile? Tell me, if neither of us are happy what was the point of any of this?"

Sarah just blinked at him. Was he really? Did he really not?

"Jareth...are you really that dense?" she asked. "The reason I'm not happy is because you're not happy. Because I hurt you. I know this is a new situation for us but...did that possibility really not occur to you?"

Jareth was silent and after a moment he leaned back in his seat and looked away.

"I suppose not. I was raised to believe that one must do what is necessary to get what they want. I merely assumed your motivations were the same. If you're feeling any sort of remorse or guilt for acquiring the thing you wanted, then maybe that's a sign it is something you should not have." Although he was speaking to her, he was no longer sure if his words were meant for her or himself. He was getting fed up again and wasn't sure how much more of this conversation he could stand. Sarah continued to stare into her lap as if he were scolding her, and she figured that in a sense he was. Was he threatening to take it away just then? She wasn't sure. Things were getting a little ominous...She wished it could be like before -when they would just fuck their problems away.

"...How long are you going to stay angry at me?" she asked, feeling this conversation was doomed to go nowhere.

"I'm not angry," he said, and her head shot up. "I'm hurt, remember?" he added, cattily. Sarah began to knot her fingers.

"Is there anything I can do? ...to make it better?" she asked, knowing full well the stakes of such an offer. She didn't know what else to say...with any normal person that statement wouldn't hold such weight. It would be the natural thing to say. With any normal person...Huh, she would never be in this situation with any _normal_ person.

"You wanted time right?" he asked. "Perhaps that will work for the both of us," and from the way he stared straight ahead, she knew that was her cue to find the door. She wasn't sure what she was hoping to accomplish by this visit, but she felt a little less awful than before. She took that as a win.

She reached out and surprised him by clasping his hand.

"I'm not quite sure why...but if it's any consolation, I think you'd actually be a really great dad..._one day_. You're a good teacher...and you're good at spotting the potential in people. You act hard-hearted but I can tell that you really do care about things and even though you can be crazy...you can be downright awful...you can also be very compassionate, but only when you want to be. Not saying you'd be perfect by any means but...I think you would have done well _back then_. I won't lie, imagining you as my husband still frightens me...the idea of never seeing my family again still upsets me...the thought of becoming a slave to this society terrifies me. I could go on and on...But of all the things I'm still afraid of...picturing you as a father isn't really one of them."

She let go of his hand and went to stand, and was surprised when he suddenly reached out and grabbed her wrist. She looked down at him, waiting for what came next. He didn't move a muscle, and it seemed he was forcing himself to stare straight ahead, not to blink, to barely even breathe.

"Um...Jare-"

"Do you want to know why I'm upset?" he asked, interrupting her. She drew her brow on him and tilted her head.

"I thought it was because-"

"That's right. _You thought_," he interjected and turned to look her straight in the eye. The fierceness of his gaze was...unexpected. Sarah gaped a bit, not sure if she should sit back down or try backing away slowly. "You _thought _of reasons that I could be upset, that I should be upset. The array you've just listed is quite colorful. But you...you don't get it," he said and jerked her arm so she fell back down in her seat. She was on edge now. Maybe she should have just left while she still had the chance.

"...What's the reason, then?" she asked. Jareth scowled and rubbed his forehead, the hand around her wrist moving up to clutch her hand.

"I was...afraid," he admitted, something that sounded as much a surprise to him as it did to her. Sarah's furrowed brow grew more puzzled still and she regarded him carefully.

"Afraid of what?" she asked. Jareth took a deep breath and then turned to look at her.

"Of your fucking stare."

Sarah gaped. What-What? She opened her mouth but wasn't quite sure how to respond. All she knew was the effect _his stare_ was having and how she needed to escape it desperately.

"W-what are you-"

"All I wanted was for that look to go away."

"Look? What look?"

"That look. The look you've been giving me all day. The one you're giving me now," he said and moved in closer. She inched back but found nowhere to go. He was in her face now, those bright blue eyes of his examining everything about her own.

"I-I don't understand." It was hard to remain composed when he was so close. She'd been feeling so anxious all day, it was hard not to give herself away. He let go of her hand and moved to cup her cheeks and she felt an immediate blush inflame them.

"Do you have any idea how painful it is to be looked at by you?" he asked, a question that left her taken aback. "To be looked at with such fear and worry and sorrow and empty hope...I never thought something so _minuscule_ could have such a profound effect- ...but I realized it the first time you looked at me like that. And each time it happens, I am reminded that it is a look I never, _ever_, want to see," he said, gently caressing her cheeks with his thumbs and for some reason she felt a heat moving to her eyes. But it was not tears that threatened to undo her, no it was just..._emotion_, reflected from him. "You came in and you looked at me and it was like I could no longer breathe. There is such force in that stare, there is simply no room for me to react. That stare of yours terrifies me, because I am inevitably the one to evoke it and I vowed-" he closed his eyes then and forced himself to change directions. "I thought that giving in would make that look go away but it hasn't. Here you are. And then there's the issue of what you said- you brought up what happened in my past and-"

"I know! And I said I was sorry-" Sarah interjected but he started shaking his head.

"No. You don't know. You brought up what had happened and even just the slightest implication...the faintest idea that might somehow happen to you...that I would lose you in such a horrible, horrendous manner- it just..." He had to stop to compose himself, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. "It enrages me that you would even think that, whether you meant it or not. Do you understand?" he asked, and she nodded with unblinking eyes. He was scaring the hell out of her right now, but at least he was talking. This was good. Right? She bit her lip and gulped down her nerves, but became worried when the look in his eyes only grew more intense. "I want you to stop," he said and she blinked in confusion.

"Stop? Stop what?" she asked. He growled and gripped her face tighter.

"Stop staring at me like that."

He pulled her forward then and pressed their foreheads together. He was getting so worked up and she was having a hard time understanding all that he was saying to her. He let out another long exhale and then tilted her face to kiss her. He pulled on her as he kissed her again, and she stumbled near out of her seat and placed her hands on his thighs for support. He pulled away ever so slightly and whispered into her lips,

"You want to make things better? You can start by getting rid of that stare," he said and kissed her again, deeply. His hands wove into her hair and held her on the edge of her seat. She closed her eyes and kissed him back, because for the first time all day something actually felt right. She moved her hands to his neck and he pulled her in closer. His mouth went to her neck and traveled downward, while his hands went to her waist and yanked her forward until she sat astride him. She gasped and the sound urged him on. He held his arms tightly around her and kissed his way into her cleavage.

She was still wrapping her head around the tangent things had taken when he was pulling her face down to his once more. She didn't mind. Not at all. Both of them knew the real goal of her visit. He wasn't stupid. She had waited several hours before coming to find him...and he had wondered what would happen once she brewed that first cup. He had wondered if things would be different and now was surprisingly tentative to find out.

He pulled away and stroked the hair from her face.

"I'm still quite cross with you," he murmured, biting on her lower lip as he spoke. His tongue twirled with hers and she whimpered into it.

"I know...but today, I don't want to fight. I told you...anything I can do...to make it better," she replied between kisses. She didn't see him smile.

She felt his hand move to the top of her head, and the slight pressure urged her down. Her kisses moved to his jaw. He leaned back and she sucked hard on the muscle in his neck, her hands placed on his chest for balance.

One hand gripped his shirt when he pulled the other downward, and placed her open palm firmly around his hardening erection. He moved her hand back and forth but she needed no encouragement. He was so large that even through his pants she could get a good grip. He grew with each undulation and she could feel herself growing hot with arousal.

He took his hand away and brought both to her face. She'd tried to go back to kissing his mouth, but it seemed he was pushing her lower. She didn't fight it and left messy kisses down the front of his throat, down the center of his chest; but it was when he pushed her lower still that she finally caught on. Oh...so that's how her offer had been received.

She hesitated for a moment, as the _encouragement_ of his _guidance_ was becoming a bit heavy handed. She paused and the challenge passed between them. The defiant part of her pushed her kisses higher. She knew him. What he wanted was for her to submit, to prove what she said by validating his own sexuality and obeying his wishes. As if they had not encountered that struggle already. However another part, a darker part, posed another idea. She recalled the night in his room...the night she'd had him straining for even a semblance of control, and she hadn't even done anything then. If he thought this would be some sort of punishment, some sort of power play to prove that she really was sorry, that she really would do anything to make it better...well then, was he in for a surprise.

She bent down lower as her fingers let loose the ties on his shirt, and moved to kneel on the floor before him. Her lips moved lower and lower down his torso, and he watched her with great interest. He was too distracted by her tongue circling his navel to realize she'd unbuttoned his pants, let alone begun to snake her hands inside.

He groaned when her hands touched his bare flesh and jerked in his seat when she began to stroke him. A part of him was cautious, for he knew that she would see this as a challenge and wondered how she would respond. Did she mean what she said? How far out of her way would she go to please him, and better yet, why? She seemed compliant, down right eager from the way she stroked him so precisely. But he knew her better than that. He was probably going to regret this. Actually, no. No he wasn't.

He gripped the arm of the chair with one hand and wound the other in her hair, pushing her lower. She smiled and he saw it, and wondered why it was so intimidating.

She released him from his pants and stroked him slowly, knowing he was watching her every move. She peered up at him, and what he once thought was challenge in her gaze revealed itself as plain victory.

That stare then shifted. It became wanton. It became shameless. Her eyelids lowered and her lashes fluttered. He recognized this look, this state of mind. Her smile curled sensuously and without warning she ran her tongue teasingly from base to tip.

Jareth felt a pull in his abdomen and flinched from the sharp flare of pleasure that hit him. She held his stare and with that same devilish smile ran her tongue along him again, this time slower, with more pressure, making sure he had the clearest view of everything she was doing. Only when his eyes became fixated on her did she look away. She lowered her mouth and sucked on his shaft, kissing it while her fist pumped the base. Jareth's hands were already tightening on the armrests of the chair and he fought himself not to lose it then and there. Her tongue traveled up and danced around the tip and again he felt himself jerk. He grew even harder and she smiled as she licked away the fluid that threatened his undoing.

He had to look away from her. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He should have known he would be no match for her. Deep down he did. Deep down he knew he had done it on purpose. There were so few moments when she owned herself like this...and he could tell it was a power she had developed a taste for. He both feared and writhed in the anticipation of what she would do next.

Just when he was about to exhale did her tongue wrap around him and her mouth plunge down. She pulled back and sucked hard and he couldn't stop the moan that escaped him. She flicked her tongue over all the right spots -as if she knew all along- and plunged down on him again. She moved in a rhythm now, and his hand shot down into her hair, pushing her harder, faster. His legs began to fidget but she held them open with her arms and kept up her pace. Jareth groaned and squirmed in his seat, but he didn't care. He loved when she took control. It was far more satisfying. Her hands moved and touched him in places he had never expected, and was quite frankly surprised by her boldness. That moment of consciousness was fleeting however, as he was quickly sucked back into the pleasure she brought him.

Her breathing became strained and she made small noises as she struggled for air and oh, how those sounds made him moan. For a moment, he thought about pulling her up and fucking her senseless but was far too selfish to let this pleasure end. The heat of her mouth, the strength of her tongue, the subtle sharpness of her teeth; who would have thought that something so mundane could be so erotic? Maybe she was skilled, maybe it was just her, either way he could feel himself nearing an edge he did not yet want to fall over.

He tried to dissuade her, to slow her down, even pull her off, but each time she fought against him and inevitably got her way. She'd even started moaning, feeling along his body as her sounds vibrated through him. He could feel himself growing hot, perspiration beading his forehead. She was doing this on purpose. No doubt, challenge accepted and immediately conquered. He tried to control himself, but when he moaned her name she moaned right back and there was just no hope left.

His fist gripped tightly into her scalp as he came down her throat. He moaned loudly and held her in place, but she did not fight it. No, instead she sucked harder, taking everything he had. Her hands gripped his thighs and she waited for his hold to loosen before gradually pulling away. She caught her breath and situated him quite neatly.

Jareth panted heavily, his eyes locked onto hers as he tried to fathom just how wonderful -and quick- that was. She stared back at him expectantly, though he wasn't sure what for. His hand moved from her hair down to her chin and he tilted her up as he regarded her.

"How did you-"

"I told you before," she said, crawling up to sit astride him. The look on his face was so empowering. "You told me you didn't care about the things I did with mortal boys...would you like to amend that statement?" The race of Jareth's heart started to die down, his eyes locked on her mouth as his thumb stroked her swollen lips.

"No," he said, sounding a bit dazed. "I think I enjoy the surprise much more," he added and then kissed her. She kissed him back, but held him off. He seemed excited. Too excited for someone who had just had a rather considerable climax. His hands went down and under her skirt and she yelped at the sensation of his fingers pressing against her sex.

"Whoa, what are you doing?" she asked. Jareth smiled and pushed past her underwear.

"I thought that would be obvious: you." His fingers slid inside her easily and he pushed them deep. She moaned and he leaned in to kiss along her neck. "You're so wet...one might think you enjoyed that as much as I," he said. Sarah closed her eyes as she rocked against his fingers.

"I do enjoy it...for the same reasons you enjoy what you're... doing now," she said, gripping his shoulder tightly as she rode his fingers harder.

"I see...good to know we're on the same page," he said, then withdrew from her and in one quick movement, flipped her around and laid her flat against the desktop. She gasped and tried to lean up, but Jareth held her firmly down. He leaned forward and whispered in her ear, "You had your way. Now let me have mine."

"I thought- that was- supposed- to be- a punishment-" she said, her voice strained when his fingers penetrated her once more. There were more of them, moving harder than before. Jareth's free hand stroked her rear, pleased that she kept herself positioned willingly.

"Even if I wanted it to be, what about that was a punishment for you exactly?" he asked, then knelt down behind the desk. Jareth was right, even if he had intended that to be both a literal and figurative "suck my dick," Sarah had gone and made it something else entirely. If that was the case, then she wondered what else he had up his sleeve.

She was distracted however when the heat of his tongue delved deep into her cleft. She squirmed, but he held her hips in place. He murmured into her, commenting on her taste and saying all kinds of nasty things that shouldn't but did make her all sorts of hot n' bothered. She gripped the desk, trying her best not to make a mess of things, but quite frankly had much more pressing matters on her mind. He was an expert with his tongue, and with his fingers combined...

She felt his mouth pull away, but didn't notice him lean over. She did however, register his hand go around her wrist and feel the familiar chill of metal cuffs. She opened her eyes and jerked up, but his second hand withdrew from her and in a flash shoved her back down.

"What are you-"

"You were expecting a punishment. What kind of king would it make me to deny such a guilty conscience?" he asked and she started to panic. "Shush now," he murmured, leaning in to nip along her ear. "You're going to struggle against what I'm going to do next. These are simply...a precautionary measure," he said, clamping a magical cuff around the other wrist. Chains then extended across the other side of the desk. It was useless. She was pinned flat.

"What? I thought- What do you think you're-" And then a hand went around her mouth and he was damn lucky her next words were muffled.

"I told you to shush. Don't make me gag you as well," he said and moved away from her. She grew worried then. What in the world was he going to do with her?

He stood back for a moment and appreciated her, sprawled out and exposed. He ran a hand along her rear, gradually meandering between her thighs. She trembled from the anticipation.

"Don't worry," he said, and her body subconsciously eased. "You'll like it." She tensed all over again.

His fingers probed her, slowly, carefully, and then ran her fluids upwards, coating her in a place she was not ready for. Her body tensed and she pulled away.

"Whoa- um- hey. Can you not?" she asked, squirming incessantly and getting nowhere.

Ignoring her completely, Jareth delved his fingers deep inside her, as far as they could go, and moved in subtle undulations. A great pressure started to build and she wasn't quite sure what it was. She started to squirm, it was both pleasurable and discomforting at the same time. Her legs fumbled under the desk and she suspected there were to be a number of bruises left on her hips before he was through.

She made subtle noises, not quite moans, not quite certain how much she trusted his intentions to let herself relax. She shivered when his hair brushed along her back and his lips left a warm kiss on her shoulder. He moved so slowly, so tenderly.

"Close your eyes...and relax," he whispered, and she did as he said. She slowed her breathing as he kissed his way down her back. She didn't notice the positioning of his fingers.

She started to moan. With her eyes closed she could focus on the pleasure and oh, how it suddenly bloomed. She pressed her knees together and inched higher up the desk. She'd never felt this before. It was...difficult to describe. How was this a punishment?

"You're doing wonderful," he whispered, and she became curious as to why he would be praising her. She opened her eyes and that's when she realized exactly where his fingers had moved to. Her body tensed and she jerked a little, her immediate reaction one of embarrassment.

Jareth's free hand was quick to hold her down.

"Easy now," he said, trying to mask the amusement in his voice. She huffed and scowled as she tried to relax her muscles. He leaned in again and kissed the back of her neck. "Do you see now? How good it can be if you just relax? There's nothing to be ashamed of," he said, and she did her best to take his words to heart, but her suspicion just wouldn't subside. She forced herself to relax, to forget about what he was doing and just enjoy it. "Good girl," he whispered and pushed deeper. She moaned again, loudly, her body stretching with each undulation. She could feel herself growing wet and yearned for something more.

She pushed back and curled a foot around one of his legs, trying to jerk him forward. He smiled down at her and did as she asked by stepping forward and pushing his hips against her, his hand emulating that which she really desired.

She started to become frustrated. What he was doing felt too good and she could feel herself coming undone fast -just like she had done to him. But she didn't want that. Not at all. She groaned his name in a weak plea to take pity on her, but he did no such thing. She wanted him so badly but he refused to enter her, instead teasing her with just the proximity of his renewed erection. Was that it? Would he grant her nothing more than foreplay? While it wasn't much of a punishment, his denial of intimacy said a lot about how he viewed the new circumstances between them. It was almost disheartening. Did he not want to be with her? Is that why he pushed her head lower? Was he ashamed of it? Was he still, as he himself had said, _sickened_ by her?

"Am I frustrating you?" he asked, and she nodded. "You want me inside you, don't you?" he asked and again she nodded, too focused on her impending climax and worrying thoughts to formulate words. His smile grew wider. He leaned down to her - "Why don't you pretend and let me feel you instead?" he suggested, teasingly, feeling her insides enflame and constrict as she came closer and closer to her release. While his words only supported that which she feared, she couldn't stop herself from moving her hips, rocking her body as she moaned. She could feel it. So close. Just one more-

And then it stopped.

With a heavy breath, Sarah panted and opened her eyes. Jareth's hand -that wonderfully torturous hand of his- had pulled away so sharply, leaving her hanging by the thinnest thread. Her heart raced. Her insides ached. The pressure between her legs begged for release and Jareth -Jareth?

She turned around as best she could and shot him a wide-eyed glare, a look he was already well prepared for.

His smile was dastardly, wickedly amused. He tilted his head to one side and tried his hardest not to laugh, then wiped his hands with a kerchief, waiting patiently for her to catch on.

"Wha-what are you?" and she jerked on her chains. Her scowl deepened and she glared as he stepped towards her and smoothed the skirt of her dress back over her bottom.

"Feeling frustrated?" he asked. She growled and jerked again, her knees pressing tightly under the desk. "Feeling...unsatisfied?" He moved to walk around the side of the desk and she watched him like a hawk. He stopped in front of her and cracked a smirk, then leaned down 'till they were eye to eye. "Perhaps even a little bit foolish?" He quirked a brow then and Sarah's face reddened with anger as she jerked on her chains. She was right. She knew exactly where this was going.

"Don't you dare," she warned -as if there was anything she could do about it. He leaned up and ruffled her hair with his hand.

"Oh, getting testy are we? I don't suppose you like being caught at such a disadvantage, having given me exactly what I want and me leaving you..." and then he shrugged. Such a taunting, backhanded gesture. "Well, simply leaving you," he finished, with a bit of a chuckle.

"Jareth...If you think-" she muttered, her fists twisting in their confinement.

"Think what? That I could get back at you? That I could irritate and humiliate you to just a minor degree of that which you have allotted to me?" he asked, and she found herself glaring away. "Well, _I_ certainly feel better," he stated, with awful arrogant charm. He turned his back on her then and headed towards the door. On reflex Sarah lurched forward, the force of which causing the heavy wooden desk to scrape and bellow against the floor.

"Jareth! Don't you dare leave me here!" she shouted, but he kept on walking. He-he was really going to leave her here, wasn't he? That asshole!

He stopped at the door and shot her a glance over his shoulder.

"Perhaps you just need some time to deal with your...dissatisfaction," he said, the acerbity of his words carried by the sharpness of his stare. She gaped at him, flabbergasted. Was this seriously happening right now? And then he smiled, a false, mocking smile. "Enjoy the rest of your evening," he said and casually slipped through the door.

"Wait! Jareth! God- GOD DAMN IT!"

She groaned as the door shut in front of her face, leaving her alone and dreadfully vulnerable. Unbelievable. What a fucking dick. How he could be so serious and then act so childish...UGH.

In a fit of exasperation she started fighting against the chains, but only succeeded in straining her arms. She was getting pissed off now. Denying her orgasm had been frustrating enough, but now she was stuck in this uncomfortable and quite compromising position? How long was he going to leave her like this? What if someone came in? What the fuck.

She inched along the desk. Her hips really were starting to hurt now, but there wasn't much maneuvering she could do. She crawled up and tried to sit on top of it, but for some reason she was physically unable to do so. It was as if she were glued in place. Oh. Right. Magic. Of fucking course. This was just perfect.

She let her face fall against the desktop and groaned. She should have known he'd pull something. That was all too easy. Jareth randomly opening up like that? Yeah right, not without a price at least. Maybe she should have just submitted; he probably wouldn't have felt the need to get back at her. She groaned and smacked her forehead against the desk. God. This was so irritating.


	111. An Impregnable Defense part 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While unbeknown to her, Sarah has succeeded in obtaining the one thing the Goblin King has desired for hundreds of years -power over the Labyrinth. After being hidden for years from his diabolical wrath, Sarah finds herself alone and vulnerable as Jareth's dark desires are finally aloud to rear their ugly heads. As always, the only question is, are things really as they seem?

"Goodnight Master Roldan, I hope you have a pleasant evening."

Roldan smirked as he held the door open, his eyes following after the willowy Fae that glided under his arm.

"Good night? It's barely ten p.m. Don't tell me you're going to bed now," he said, turning and making sure the door to the study was firmly locked. Mariella shrugged and handed him his papers once he was finished.

"Well, no I suppose not. I imagine I should try checking on Sarah before I retire. I haven't heard a word from her since this morning. That usually isn't a good thing," she said. Roldan didn't realize he was sighing.

"Fear not. I saw her just earlier," he said, turning to escort her down the hall. Mariella perked up with curiosity.

"Really? Do you recall what time? What was she doing? Should I be concerned?" she asked. Roldan laughed, finding her interest in that silly little girl completely unwarranted.

"She was looking for Jareth," he said, spying on her as she then grew confused.

"Really? Hm. Strange. I could have sworn she went to see him earlier. Oh dear, I hope she hasn't spent all day trying to find him. I could have kept her company at the very least!"

Roldan snorted. This woman was too kind for her own good.

"I wouldn't bother wasting my energy on her if I were you. If nothing else, she's proved quite resilient," he said. "I'm sure she's just fine."

"Hm...I suppose you're right," Mariella mumbled, gripping her chin as she thought. He watched her carefully now, curious of the depth of her concern. Mariella spent more time with Sarah than anyone, which would mean she had the most access to whatever irritating peculiarities that went on between them. He had to admit, investigating her knowledge was tempting..."Oh, well look at that. I believe this is where we part ways, Master."

He peered up to find them standing at a crossroads in the hall.

"I should like to escort you back to your chambers," he said. That would be the polite thing to do. Mariella smiled but shook her head.

"Oh gracious no. There is no need and you are far too busy. I'm sure entertaining me has set you back a ways and I'd rather traverse the halls alone knowing you were free to get your own rest," she said, giving him a wave as she turned away from him. "Goodnight Master Roldan. Please don't stay up too late. The three of us have got a big day tomorrow!"

He found himself smirking as they parted ways. It was rather pathetic to admit, but he couldn't remember the last time he had simply enjoyed the company of another. It was refreshing.

But now she was gone. Now he remembered all the work that had yet to be done. He found himself sighing as he pondered it. It was all so tedious -these lessons of his. He wasn't qualified to be a mentor. He had his own hefty share of responsibilities, why couldn't he have just hired someone else?

On one good note, Mariella's assistance had freed him up to get these blasted contracts finally drawn up. They were only drafts, but still needed Jareth's seeing to. He wondered if he were still up. Surely he wouldn't still be in the mapping room, that had been hours ago. Especially with Sarah on the way... Knowing him, he was probably holed up in his room, or maybe even Sarah's with the way he'd been acting lately.

He looked around to orient his location. Jareth's room was still a ways off, but the mapping room was close. Simply checking in couldn't hurt.

The lights in the hall were dim, a familiar signal of its vacancy. The torches sparked as he passed them however, but only served in reminding him of how grim this place could be at night. He arrived at the door quickly but was too tired to think twice before entering.

He was startled by a sudden yip. He looked up and...

"OH THANK GOD."

Roldan just stood there for a moment, hand still gripping the handle as he tried to register what he was seeing. Sarah groaned and rolled her eyes, the sound of metal clanking as she flexed her arms.

"Hey! You just going to stand there or what? I've been waiting here for hours, can you please let me out of this already?!"

She yelled at him from across the room, and that unseemly glare of hers went duly unappreciated. Finding his footing, Roldan cleared his throat and stepped into the room.

"What in the Underground are you doing in here?" he asked and she huffed obnoxiously.

"Oh, yea, because I totally want to be here. This is just some prank to make you judge me even more. Ta-dee-fucking-da!" she exclaimed, trying to throw her hands up in the air but only succeeded in jerking them back down to the desk top with a loud thud. She groaned again and rolled around on the table. "Urgh. Come on. Please? I don't mean to be catty but my arms are killing me. You have no idea how uncomfortable this is. I've been calling out to anyone for who knows how long. Would you please just come let me out?" she pleaded desperately, doing her best to wriggle into semi-comfortable positions. She was exhausted. Her hip bones killed and her wrists ached. What the Hell, did Jareth just plain forget about her?!

Roldan's wide expression narrowed into a stern scowl. Apparently, her tone was not as sympathetic as it could have been.

"I assume this is Jareth's doing then?" he asked and she shot him a glare.

"Who else?" she asked, incredulously. Roldan's eyes narrowed further.

"Do you know where he is?" he asked. Sarah made a haphazard gesture towards the sky and shook her head.

"Hell if I know. Probably up in a tree somewhere laughing through one of his stupid crystal balls."

"Well then..." And then he turned to leave. Sarah's eyes sprang forward and she lurched across the desk.

"Wait! No! Where are you going! Shit- don't leave!" she yelled and he stopped. His fingers tapped against the edge of the door, emphasizing his impatience. "Where are you going?" she asked.

"To find Jareth. I have business with him," he said. Sarah began to whimper.

"But- you can't just leave me here!" she exclaimed. Roldan threw her a bored expression.

"Actually, I believe I can," he said, then let his eyes give her a blatant and condescending once-over. She tensed back a bit. "Jareth is the one who put you there, which would mean that is the place he wants you to stay," he said, his hand moving down to grip the handle. "It is not my place to defy His Majesty's orders any more than I already have," he said and went to shut the door behind him. With no shame left, Sarah gave him one final plea.

"No! Please! Please just- don't go," she said, the tremble in her voice just begging for pity. He found himself stopping again and sighed.

"I thought you came here to apologize?" he asked, turning around sharply, his glare holding its own against her sad puppy-dog look.

"I did. And...I did. He just...wanted to get back at me, I guess," she said, her voice trailing off as she pondered how much was appropriate to tell him. She looked back and jingled her chains. "Please. I feel like I've been here for hours. I have no idea when he's coming back or if he ever plans to, but this is getting ridiculous."

"There are no windows nor clocks in this room," Roldan stated. Sarah puzzled her brow.

"Yeah?"

"So, it stands to say that you have no real way of keeping time yes? Perhaps it is your impatience that has caused you such grief. For all I know you've only been like this for less than ten minutes."

Her heart fell to the floor when he said that and a feeling of dread hit her when she realized that this terrible grump really was her only hope.

"I'll make a bargain with you then," she said and tried not to seem hopeful when he turned towards her ever so slightly.

"Really? And what could you possibly offer me? As I recall, you already owe me one favor," he asked and she looked away as she tried to ignore the threatening elephant in the room. She was chained to a desk after all...

"I don't know...what do you want?" she asked, with mild trepidation. Roldan cocked a brow, wondering what the hell her problem was all of a sudden. He stepped into the room and approached her.

"A part of me wishes to know how exactly you found yourself in this situation..." he said, eyeing her body as it stretched across the table. Knowing Jareth, he probably...and then he shook his head. He shouldn't be thinking of, let alone imagining that -surely not with Sarah still strapped to the table. She tensed at his proximity, and only then was he able to register why she was so defensive. Oh, how rude of him. "But then again, I have a feeling you find yourself as such quite often," he said, distastefully, and moved aside. She glared up at him.

"And what is that supposed to mean?" she asked, watching him intently as he knelt down before her.

"Exactly what you think it means," he said, holding her strong stare. There was a glimmer to her eyes, a sense of pluck and belligerence. A spark that complemented Jareth's perfectly. After a moment that spark dimmed and she subdued the urge to snarl at him.

"Are you going to help me or not?" she asked, her fists so tight her knuckles had turned white. Roldan took his time is weighing the options, allowing himself to enjoy this experience to the fullest extent.

"We still haven't discussed our terms," he reminded, folding his arms across his chest and moving to kick back in a nearby seat. Sarah groaned.

"Fine. Name it. If I can do it, you got it," she said, fed up with all these maniacal madmen. Although they looked nothing alike, there was no mistaking their nuances. They were raised together. They were friends. And deep down, they were all too similar through and through.

Roldan smiled and tilted his head as he pondered her offer.

"I think I'll take a raincheck," he said, sounding so smug as he stood from his seat. Sarah gaped up at him. What?

"What do you mean?" she asked, wary as he approached. He knelt down and reached for her hands. She tensed. She never liked being this close to him.

"What I mean is that there is nothing I want from you right now. But I imagine that won't always be the case," he said and released one of her hands. "I will ask something of you one day, and I expect that you will do it, completely, wholeheartedly and without complaint," he added, releasing her other hand. He withdrew from her and she leaned up off the desk, wobbling a bit as she soothed her wrists.

"Fine," she said, glaring up at him as he walked away from her. There was something ominous about him all of the sudden. She didn't trust it.

She kept her distance as he crossed the room, not expecting him to stop at the door and turn back towards her.

"Well? You coming?" he asked, holding the door impatiently.

She joined him cautiously, hiding her embarrassment behind suspicion. She could only imagine what he thought of her. Well, not that she had earned many brownie points from him as it was...

"So, to clarify: you _don't_ know where Jareth is?" he asked, his tone vaguely teasing. Sarah hid her glare, preoccupied with inspecting her own well-being. Truth be told, she was perfectly fine. It was her pride that needed coddling.

"No. I really don't." she answered, grumbling a bit in annoyance. He was smirking at her. She could feel it. That bastard. "Do you know what time it is?" she asked.

"Around ten o'clock," he said and her brow rose.

"Oh, wow. What a long day," she said. He peered at her from the corner of his eye.

"And a longer day tomorrow," he added. She looked up to him.

"Huh?"

"Tomorrow we resume your lessons. I expect you to be ready and waiting by eight a.m. tomorrow," he stated and she nearly exclaimed,

"What? Are you serious? Why so early?!"

Roldan stopped and glared down at her.

"Because I have entertained your laziness for long enough. Jareth spoils you endlessly, giving you days off, stealing you away from your studies, ending my thoroughly prepared classes ahead of schedule- this was a task _he_ bestowed to _me_ and I will see it through to my utmost capability which means you will push yourself to yours." He glared down at her for a moment then narrowed his eyes. "Or I could return you to your chains if you prefer," he added, dangerously. Sarah shot him an eye, but chose to believe his threat to be hollow.

She resigned to grumble and pout at his scolding. There wasn't much she could say here, not with the debt he currently had her in. Well this was annoying. Perhaps one of the only good things about this place was her mid-morning schedule. Maybe she could bypass him and just go straight to Jareth over the matter? ...Then again, maybe not.

"Pff, fine. But ya know what? Somebody better get me a damn alarm clock because I don't know how you people do it," she said, crossing her arms tightly over her chest. Roldan smirked with satisfaction and carried on down the hall.

They rounded a corner and Sarah stopped dead.

It took Roldan a moment to catch on, but after following Sarah's gaze he figured out exactly what had gotten her so riled.

"Well, what do we have here?" Jareth asked. He was standing across from them, leaning against a windowsill. Pale light from the moon shone in and refracted against the crystal he gazed into. Sarah bit her lip and fisted her hands, panic and anger competing for dominance. Roldan looked between the two, totally unfazed.

"Ah, so there you are. I have some things for you," he said and casually approached his impish king. "Might I ask where you've been?" he asked, handing him the papers. Sarah stood still a ways back. Jareth's playful eyes found her as he accepted Roldan's gesture.

"Oh you know, up in a tree somewhere laughing through one of my stupid crystal balls," he said, cheekily and turned his smile onto Sarah. "Oh, Sarah! If it isn't you. Now, who let you out of your chains?" he asked, and his eyes rolled over to Roldan. "...Roldan?" he asked, with a precarious tone. For a moment, Roldan feared an imminent reprimand, but knew from that stare that Jareth would have much more fun if he were to throw his dearly beloved under the bus instead.

"What can I say? Your damsel bewitched me, charming me with that quite scandalous scene," he said, closing his eyes and shrugging, which earned a chuckle from Jareth. Sarah moved forward, ready to deck him upside the head.

"Don't you dare!" she warned. "I did not do anything of the so-"

She found herself cut off by Jareth's thumb under her chin. He'd moved to stand in front of her so suddenly, she couldn't even finish her sentence. The way he gazed down at her was full of mischief and she hated the butterflies it stirred.

"Oh my, look at you all in a huff," Jareth said, moving his hand from her chin to the back of her jaw. "So Roldan is lying then? Shall I lash him for insulting you?" he asked, in a way that left Sarah unable to answer. Was-was he serious? She looked over to Roldan but he was already staring in the opposite direction, apparently full of disinterest.

"Um...no?" she answered, concerned and confused. Jareth smiled and pulled her close to his side.

"Wonderful. So we're all getting along then?" he asked, a bit too cheerfully for Sarah's liking. Roldan huffed and crossed his arms. Sarah was confused by whatever part of this conversation had gone over her head.

"If you wouldn't mind, now that you've been reunited I would like it if I could retire to my chambers," Roldan said and for some reason Sarah feared his departure. What was up with Jareth? Was he still mad? Was this cheerfulness meant to unnerve here? Goddamn these mood swings!

"Very well. If you insist," Jareth said, giving a playful tug on Sarah's hip and looking down to her with a grin. "Guess it's just the two of us," he added and she gaped up at him with severe agitation. If he was trying to freak her out, it was working.

"What is going on with you?" she asked, wary and weirded out. Roldan had already taken his leave, long since bored with the scene.

"I've been waiting you know," he said, ignoring her. Sarah drew her brow.

"Waiting for what?" she asked.

"For you."

Now she scowled.

"Excuse me?! You're the one who left me chained to a desk!" she said, her voice raising. Jareth's smile widened.

"I know. It was delightful," he said, cheekily. Sarah could feel her blood starting to warm.

"Of all the- Ugh. You really are insane. Honestly, what the hell even goes on in your head? Are you mad at me or not? Were you really upset or just messing with me?" she asked, exasperated. She tried to pull out of his hold but he held on tighter.

"Of course I was upset," he said, his tone a great deal softer. He rose his hands to hold the sides of her face. "I was also very mad," he added and smiled at the way she pouted. "But I told you, I don't hold grudges. You had your punishment and now it's done," he said then released her. She took a step back and regarded him. He seemed dangerous, or maybe it was just the setting. There was just something about Jareth and darkened corridors that sent shivers down her spine.

"So...we're good now?" she asked, skeptically.

"I don't know, are we?" he countered. Sarah stood a little straighter.

"You're really not bothered anymore? Just like that?" Jareth leaned back against the wall and rolled his crystal along his fingertips.

"To be honest, the longer I watched you the more bothered I became over your punishment. Funny, isn't it?" he asked. She pouted harder.

"Hilarious," she said and turned to storm away from him. She was halted by his arms wrapping around her shoulders. She gasped as he jerked her back and leaned down to whisper in her ear.

"You had planned that all along, hadn't you?" he asked and a sharp chill shot down her spin.

"Planned what?" she asked. Jareth smiled in the dark and constricted his arms a bit tighter.

"To fuck me," he said and she bit her tongue at such a brazen statement. She felt her ears tense from his breath against her neck and gulped down her nerves.

"Um-I didn't-"

"Of course you did," he refuted and she found herself shivering again. This hall was eerily dark and unsettlingly quiet. "You asked how long before it would take effect and, oh, how coincidentally, you came to apologize right on the mark." His arms began to snake away from her, his hands feeling down her arms.

"I-I didn't-I wasn't planning to-"

"I dare you to lie to me," he said and his sheer haughtiness shut her right up. It was embarrassing. It was shameful and disgusting, but he was right. Of course he was right. She had wanted the easy way out, to just ignore the real issue by blurring the day's contention with sex. That wasn't very smart of her. It went against her own ambitions. Of course he would see through it. "What? No words?" he asked. She closed her eyes and scowled at the floor. He pulled her in closer as he readjusted his posture behind her and rested his chin on her shoulder. "Don't get me wrong, I applaud your efforts and under usual circumstances, well..." and then he turned and ran his tongue along her neck. One of her hands shot up to his forearm and yet did not pull him away. "However, this is an important matter, no? And you see...I'd already given you what you wanted. As if I could let you win so easily. Roldan was right, I'd be spoiling you to give you anything more-"

"Yeah, I get it. You felt unrewarded for your efforts and wanted me to feel the same," she said, trying to turn herself away from him, but the way she gripped his forearm spoke differently.

"Yes..." he mumbled and constricted her tighter. "But now I fear we are both left feeling unsatisfied," he said and began to kneel down. She closed her eyes and resigned to let whatever he had planned happen but was surprised when he suddenly scooped her up into his arms. "How about a peace offering?" he suggested, the pale moonlight illuminating them both just too perfectly. Sarah gulped again. She could no longer tell if she was in fact terrified or enraptured by this awful despicable man.

"Peace offering?" she repeated. Jareth began to walk down the hall.

"Mhm. And who knows, if all goes well perhaps one day I'll even let you chain me some place conspicuous," he said, jokingly. He didn't realize the intensity of Sarah's stare.

"Really?" she asked. He peered down. "You mean that?" she repeated and he was caught off guard by the vigor illuminating from her eyes. He smiled at it and then looked away.

"Careful now. You're about to give yourself away," he said, stopping outside her door. She began to furrow her brow as he reached down and opened it. "I'm supposed to be the deviant here, remember?"

  



	112. Delirium

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While unbeknown to her, Sarah has succeeded in obtaining the one thing the Goblin King has desired for hundreds of years -power over the Labyrinth. After being hidden for years from his diabolical wrath, Sarah finds herself alone and vulnerable as Jareth's dark desires are finally aloud to rear their ugly heads. As always, the only question is, are things really as they seem?

Chapter 19, Delirium

* * *

It was a pleasant day. No different than any other. The weather here was always perfect, or so it seemed. It never rained and yet the flowers grew. If it stormed it stayed quiet, and if there was ever a cloud to wander the bright blue sky it made sure to stay far away from the sun's reach.

It was a bit uncanny actually. A bit contrived. Outside the castle grounds it was lifeless. Outside of these walls it was bleak, it was torrid. It was deathly. But one would never know that from where Sarah sat. Here there were birds chirping, people laughing. There was merriment and ease. Green and blue -the colors of life, health and tranquility, painted her view. It was so lovely here, so...unnaturally charming.

"Sarrrahhhhhh...Hello? Earth to Sarah!"

She wondered if it was always like this, if this garden existed in a type of stasis. That would be nice, she thought, as the idea of watching these flowers wither and die saddened her; or perhaps it was something else. Perhaps it was simply the passing of time.

"Sarah! Hey, anyone in there?!"

Sarah blinked and glanced back, her eyes widening as she leaned up.

"Huh? Did you say something?" she asked, removing her jaw from the hand it had been resting on. Mariella rose a brow.

"Did I say something? Goodness Sarah, I've been calling to you for minutes now. What thought could you possibly be so lost in?" she asked. Sarah continued to straighten up and gaped about in ignorance.

"Wha? I...oh...I guess I did space out, didn't I?" she asked, shrugging with a false smile as she oriented herself. They were in the garden. In the south courtyard to be exact.

"Milady! If I may be so bold, please try not to move!" Mariella scowled and Sarah glanced over to the owner of the voice.

"Mmph, yes, yes. I'll keep perfectly still from now on," she grumbled.

"I imagine you'll want to remove that scowl too, huh Marie?" Sarah asked teasingly. Mariella scowled harder, a look that did not suit her at all, and then forcibly relaxed.

" _*Sigh*_ Yes, I suppose that would be best," she said and let out a long exhale. "Though, my temperament would not be so piqued if these _virtuosos_ had any amount of virtuosity."

Sarah laughed then. This was really starting to bug her wasn't it? Apparently, vanity was not something Mariella trifled with. She stood and, much to Mariella's anticipation, peeked in on their expert's developments. She had to cover her mouth to stop the giggle.

"Oh...oh my," she said, the smile stretching beyond the cover of her hand. Mariella paled, though it only made Sarah's smile broaden. "Marie, it's...what can I say? It's a perfect likeness!" she exclaimed and could hold back the laughter no longer. On reflex Mariella attempted to lurch to her feet, but a quick hand from Sarah prevented it. "No, I'm kidding. I'm kidding. Just stay calm. It's actually not all that bad," she admitted and tilted her head 90 degrees. "If you look at it this way maybe," she added, and the giggles returned.

The look on poor Mariella's face was of pure devastation.

"I would like to see it. If it's anything like yours-" Mariella began, but Sarah was already shaking her head.

"No, no. Haven't you heard that every painting must go through an ugly stage? Just wait, I'm sure Pallos here has a masterpiece just waiting to be discovered!"

The Goblin turned and bowed his head with a smile of both amusement and complacency.

"Why thank you, Milady. I shall cherish those words of encouragement and strive to make this my best work yet."

"But how much longer must I sit here?!" Mariella interrupted. Sarah peered up, her fingers tapping against lips that still hummed with laughter.

"Until he's finished of course. I sat through mine right?" she asked. Mariella frowned in defeat.

"But surely yours did not take this long..." she mumbled.

"This long? I don't think it's even been an hour yet," Sarah said, hunkering down to closer inspect Pallos' painting. "Hm...Pallos-"

"Yes, Milady?"

"I think you've got real talent here...Rather than trying to capture her portrait realistically, you've gone for the personality underneath, am I right?" she asked. Pallos turned back to gloss over the canvas.

"Um-yes-but of course! A true artist captures the soul," he stumbled over his words, taking credit for the idea in a manner that was in no way convincing. Sarah smiled and patted his shoulder. It was alright to pick on them though. The Goblins knew they were bad painters. In fact, they counted on it; that's how this whole game started. She stood and moved around to the other easels. There were about five of them here: Pallos, Megrab, Jun, Systee, and Hun.

When they'd first come out here it was with the idea of having lunch, but it didn't take long for Sarah to absorb the nearby Goblins into her company. They were always so rambunctious, so energetic. They needed something to hold their focus. It was Mariella's idea to paint -a decision she was heavily regretting now. It was something Sarah never would have thought of and oh, it did sound fun. Of course, Sarah was to pose first. It was amusing at first; she was curious as to the skills of these creatures. She soon became concerned however, when they started snickering and whispering amongst themselves and by God the look on Mariella's face was something far worse than worrisome. When her time was up and the easels were turned around, she was a little more than surprised by what she saw.

Apparently, Goblins valued their artistic skills based on how bad -or rather absolutely terrible- they were and took pride in the ghastly pictures they created. It took Sarah a moment to catch on, she didn't want to offend them after all. And Marie, poor Marie, she near about had a heart attack. There was one painting in particular...it was hard to put into words. All she could think of was a voodoo doll that had gone through the lawn mower. It was a distinct image, one she would not soon forget. Jun had painted that one, and all the others ooh'd and ah'd at its magnificence. They cheered, remarking on how ugly and horrendous it was and when Sarah asked why they valued such a portrait, why they valued something that in no way depicted its subject, their answer was simple: _Why does a picture have to show everything that you are? Isn't it just as useful to show everything that you are not?_ _If we are incapable of capturing perfection, then capturing the opposite will convey it for us. Viewers will know the more terrible the painting, the more beautiful the sitter. _She didn't quite understand how exactly viewers would know that was their intention, but found those words to be oddly gratifying and chose to take pride in the work as well. Marie was up next, but she was not so eager for her rendering.

"Well? How does it look?" Mariella asked, tentatively. Sarah, keeping her expression coy, moved quietly around the circle.

"I think these fellows have their work cut out for them. We'll have to hang each and every one of them in your room when they're finished."

Mariella felt her heart drop. The sly smile on Sarah's face was simply malicious, down right evil.

"Are they really that bad?" she asked.

"I guess you'll just have to wait and see," she said, then turned away. "Say...I'm gonna go for a walk, okay?" she asked. Mariella peered up to meet her stare.

"You realize...you do not require my permission, yes?" she countered. Sarah smiled and shrugged.

"I know. I just don't want to abandon you. I was getting pretty spacey just sitting over there, so I'm going to go stretch my legs for a bit. They should be done by the time I get back."

"You could always join them, you know," Marie posed. Sarah brow rose high then.

"Oh, definitely not. If you're appalled by their paintings, you really, really don't want to see one of mine," she said, jokingly, holding her hands out in warning. Mariella couldn't help but snicker, earning her more grumbles from the goblins.

"Alright...I suppose I'll be right here," she said, adjusting her posture in her chair.

Sarah turned and, with a wave, called out "See ya! Have fun!"

* * *

She sighed as she walked through the garden. It wasn't as if she was stressed, but somehow, being alone now was somewhat relieving. Maybe it was just the scenery. It was indeed serene. She was glad there were places like this she could go, glad she didn't need permission to go there.

Some of the flowers here were so odd. Odd and beautiful...and vaguely dangerous. She stopped and gazed at a few. They really were pretty; their petals splayed and curled like an orchid's. They had long stems yet grew in a bush and shimmered when the light caught at just the right angle.

She plucked one without thinking and was surprised at how fuzzy the stem was. _What kind of flower is this?_ she wondered. Was it magic? Did it exist in her world? She sniffed it and recalled the smell. _Hm, lilac? Interesting..._

She heard a rustle and glanced up. Rodents were common in the garden. It was probably a rabbit or something, maybe even a goblin. But even still, there was something about this particular rustle that drew her interest.

There was a path. An ordinary path. One that she recalled led further into the garden. Her hand gripped the stem of the flower and a definite sting made her yelp and yank her hand away.

"Ah! Dammit! A thorn? Seriously?"

She looked down at the stripe of red gradually oozing down her finger. She rose it to her mouth and sucked on the wound but soon forgot all about it when the rustle came again.

Her head darted up, but this time her eyes widened. Was that...a person? She narrowed her eyes and took a step in its direction. It was brief, but she could have sworn she saw the sway of a skirt disappear just around that corner. It was...it was gold. Mariella? No...Mariella had worn blue today. Then who?

She walked a little faster now, her curiosity piqued. Were there any guests in the castle today? Any humanoids she didn't know about? She rounded the corner and paused. There she was, at the end of the path. That was definitely a woman.

"Hey! Um-excuse me!" she called out. It seemed the woman was just standing there but, at the sound of Sarah's voice, turned and disappeared around another corner.

Sarah started to pick up the pace now. Who the hell was this person? Why were they running away from her? That's when she realized the color of her hair. It was auburn. Long and curled, cascading down her back. Her eyes brightened and she gave in to a brisk jog as she chased after the woman. Of course. She knew that silhouette. How could she forget? Liana. It had to be her. But what-what was she doing? How long had it been since she'd last seen her? Why was she running away?

"Hey! Liana, wait up!" she called out, dashing around the next corner, flower still in hand.

She skidded across the slick grass, near out of breath. When she looked up, she swore the air was shimmering.

She was there, at the end of the clearing. Not far, yet too far to reach. Sarah took a step forward but felt a considerable weight holding her down. She grabbed a branch from the hedge wall to support herself. What the heck? Her breathing was still heavy, but she soon realized it couldn't have been from running. The air around her was hazy, hard to see. But Liana, Liana was definitely there. She was standing across from her, tending a patch of flowers. Gold, just like her. The roses. Since when did gold roses grow in the garden? She was forced to squint her eyes to keep focus. She was so exhausted.

"Li-Liana. Didn't you hear me calling? What are you doing? Where have you been?" she asked, huffing and puffing, trying to wipe the haze from her eyes. The flower in her hand passed her view, and its scent was overpowering.

Liana turned and although Sarah knew she was looking at her, she simply couldn't make out her face. What was this? Was this magic? Was there something magical in the garden? She started to panic, memories of the last botanic catastrophe coming to mind. The surge brought a pang deep and hard in her chest. She dropped the flower and clutched her chest. It was getting hard to breathe.

"It hurts, doesn't it?"

She looked up then, frustration deeply marring her brow. Liana's words, they were so soft-spoken, so soothing. She sounded so far away.

"Yes-" Sarah said, taking another deep breath.

"You feel torn, don't you?" she asked. Sarah forced open her eyes. "As if you're being pulled in two different directions?"

"What are you talking about? What's going on?" Sarah asked. Liana glanced down, though she couldn't tell if her expression just then had been a smile or a frown.

"I am sorry...sorry that you must go through this. I know a way. A way that might help. Would you like to know?" she asked. Sarah nodded her head and tried to take another step forward.

"Yes, please," she said. She thought she saw Liana reach out to her, but her vision became too blurry to tell.

"You have to open your eyes."

Doing as she said, Sarah forced open her eyes but it was no good.

"I don't get it, my eyes are open," she said and felt another surge of panic when Liana turned her back on her.

"No...they are not. You have to open your eyes Sarah. Open your eyes...and awaken."

"Wha-huh?" she asked.

"You have to wake up."

_Wake up Sarah._

* * *

Sarah opened her eyes, opened her eyes and sprang forward. She was laying on the ground. She was on the ground in the middle of a pathway. She looked around and scuttled to her feet.

"Wha-what the hell?!" she asked, turning all around searching for would-be attackers. But when it seemed like all was calm, she sighed and relaxed. _What the hell was that?_ she wondered. _A dream_? _Or reality_?

She took a step down the path, but there was nothing here to be found. Nothing at all. No flowers, no rose bush. Certainly no Liana. She rose a hand to scratch at the back of her head and her eyes suddenly widened. She withdrew her hand and saw it, the flower she had picked. She was still holding it, firmly in her grasp. But hadn't she dropped it? She tried to relax the tension in her hand, but the joints felt surprisingly stiff. _This flower...I wonder._ She let it fall to the ground and inspected her hand as well as the cut that was now healing. _The scratch...was that it? _she wondered.

She took a step back and looked around once more. There weren't supposed to be any magical plants in this part of the garden. Was she misinformed? Were they planted here by accident? Was her weird hallucination the work of a plant at all?

Concerned, she thought it best to simply move on for now. Leaving the flower where it fell, she hurried on down the path, out of the garden entirely.

* * *

"Phew, how weird was that?" she asked herself, exiting the garden and taking a few long steps into the open air. Regardless of whether or not it was the work of that flower, she figured she should be safe outside of the garden itself. The fields here were vast, there was no way she could get snuck up on. Besides, her patrol had to be somewhere nearby. They would have seen what happened to her, surely? If they didn't intervene that must mean nothing really happened...maybe it was a hallucination? She didn't know if that thought made her feel relieved or more worried. Knotting her fingers, she chose to calm her spirits by carrying on with her walk.

"I should ask Jareth about it..." she murmured.

For as over-protective as he was, Sarah had to admit she managed to get herself into quite a bit of trouble. She was more than glad Jareth trusted her to go about her own business, but there were times when she thought that faith was unfounded. Like just now for example. If she had known anything about magic she may have been able to do something about whatever happened. But Jareth would know what happened right? It would be best to tell him, sooner rather than later. Though...a part of her was tentative. She knew that, for whatever reasons, Jareth and Liana didn't exactly get along. She couldn't count the number of times he had warned her not to trust Liana, just as she couldn't count the number of times Liana had advised her on how to best combat Jareth.

She had to admit, at the very least she knew more about Jareth. She knew more about his character, about his intentions while she knew little to nothing about Liana's, let alone her motivations. And given what happened in the garden...what did it mean? Was it just a hallucination, or was Liana really there?

She kicked through the tall grass as she pondered, eyes staring intently downward. _How long was I under that tree? It didn't feel like more than a minute, but I don't even remember laying down..._ She wondered how Mariella was getting on, and whether the goblins were clamoring for round three. She realized then that it might be better to go back to her, but for obvious reasons she was reluctant to reenter the garden. She'd have to walk all the way around...

She frowned and looked behind her. In all her daydreaming she had actually walked pretty far from the castle. The sun was brighter out here, and she found she had to shield her eyes with her hand. If she was remembering correctly...this field was used as training grounds. There was nothing out here now however, but as she looked around her eyes did catch on something she hadn't yet noticed.

"Are those...targets?"

She narrowed her eyes to gain better focus. Yes, those were definitely targets. And then she noticed movement. It was far off, but she could make out the shapes of two people. _Is someone doing archery?_

* * *

_THWOCK!_

The sound of an arrowhead piercing a ring of canvas cut through the air. Its impact on point. Its shooter thoroughly satisfied.

"Haha! Roldan, would you look at that -another bullseye!"

Jareth smiled gallantly as he reached for another arrow. Roldan shook his head.

"Wonderful Sire."

"Oh, don't sound so dour. Liven up a bit!" he said, drawing back the string and aiming with fierce precision. A quick release and another direct hit.

_THWOCK!_

"Forgive me, but I can only entertain so much of your gloating," Roldan said, the release of his bow equally on point. Jareth spied him from the corner of his eye and smiled.

"Am I annoying you, then? Perhaps you're just frustrated that I'm so much better than you," he said, teasingly. Roldan huffed.

"Annoying? Mildly. But if you would simply look ahead, you would see that both our points of impact are equally in the red," he said, reaching for another arrow. Doing as he said, Jareth looked ahead and his smile softened.

"Ah, so it seems."

Roldan's snicker did not go unnoticed.

"Disappointed are we?" Roldan asked, hitting another perfect mark.

"On the contrary, I should expect you to be proficient in all tasks, isn't that right? You're simply doing that which goes without saying."

"I do my best."

Jareth laid down his bow then and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt. The sun was a bit warm today.

"So, is there a reason we're out here? You seem to have an awful lot of free time considering you were too busy to show up to my lesson today," Roldan said, with some spite. He'd waited an embarrassing amount of time for him to show up; although it wasn't that he was bothered by being stiffed, but if Jareth had no intention of going in the first place he would have preferred he not waste his time with empty promises. He was so frustrated he let Sarah go early to study on her own. When he saw Jareth next, it was with a welcoming cheerfulness. Geared up to give him one hell of a lecture, Roldan found his efforts successfully impeded when Jareth instead dragged him out to this little endeavor. He chose not to fight him on it however. It'd been a long time since they'd played hooky. He even found himself smiling between scowls. Honestly, he could be such a child sometimes...

Jareth, ever the mind reader, peered up with a grin.

"Must you be so sullen all the time? We're bonding," he said, with a hint of sarcasm. Roldan glared.

"Bonding?" he repeated. Jareth smiled again and retook his bow.

"Yes. Bonding. Things have been so busy lately, I didn't want you to feel neglected."

Roldan sneered and looked away, releasing another arrow.

"_Tch_, what am I? A woman?" he grumbled, scowling intently. Jareth snickered to himself and took his time with his next shot.

"You are so sensitive. I do wonder sometimes..."

"_Hmph_. Then I am one beastly woman," Roldan said.

"You are one beastly man," Jareth countered.

"I suppose I'll have to take that as a compliment." He drew his arm back as he said that, closely focused on the target ahead.

"Hey! Whatcha doin?!"

With a jolt, Roldan's hand released and the arrow went soaring, just barely hitting the edge of the target. Stifling a gasp, he turned to the side with a fierce glare.

"What-By gods woman!" he yelled, eyes alight with anger and embarrassment. Sarah shriveled under it but failed in hiding her amusement.

"Oh. Um...hi," she said, debating an immediate escape. She rose a hand and gave him a small wave.

"What the hell are you doing here?" he asked, forcing a scowl to hide his shame. How she had managed to sneak up on him like that he had no idea. And Jareth, oh he could only imagine the look that must be on his face right now. Overlooking his faux pas, Sarah took a step back and peered around him.

"I...uhh...saw someone shooting bows and when I realized it was you guys I figured I'd come over," she explained. Her eyes searched for Jareth, yet when they found him were quick to dart away. He looked disinterested, however, preoccupied with testing the tension in his bow. Roldan glared away and shook his head. Was there no place he could be rid of her?

With Roldan's apparent dismissal, Sarah felt free to step around him and moved to join Jareth.

"So um...is it okay for me to be here? Or were you having guy time?" she asked. Jareth glanced down to her and smiled.

"Oh look, I think you've made Roldan blush," he said, eyeing him precariously as he shot and missed the target yet again. Sarah too glanced back. "Haha, look at you Roldan, all in a huff. That's two shots now. How will you ever redeem yourself?" he asked cheerfully. She began to eye Roldan then and saw that it was true. His face was turning red, though she wasn't so sure it was from embarrassment as much as it was anger. Hm? Was it something she said?

"You're quite fond of the statement aren't you? Am I to be mocked by the both of you now?" Roldan asked, irritably. Sarah pursed her lips and tilted her head.

"No...I was being serious. I didn't know you did archery," she said, turning to look down the row of targets. There were some close and some far. It seemed they were switching between the two. Jareth pulled back and took aim.

"Since we were children," he said, making sure to hit a perfect bullseye now that her eyes were on him. It was a little strange, Roldan was so surprised by her visit but Jareth didn't seem fazed in the slightest. Maybe he saw her coming?

"I can see that...you're both really good," she said, inspecting their respective sides. Her eyes kept traveling back to Jareth however; there was something different about him today. Roldan huffed while Jareth smiled.

"I'm actually a bit better than him," Jareth said, haughtily. "As you can see." Roldan's grumbles were becoming ornery.

"Do you do this often?" Sarah asked.

"Every now and again. I can't spend all my free time with you," Jareth said, and they turned to look at one another. "You would surely get sick of me," he added, and she had to turn away to hide any reaction. She realized it then, what was different. His hair was pulled back. His portrait might have been the usual messy bangs-galore, but his profile revealed a long ponytail that fell down his back. She'd never seen a different hairstyle on him before. It...suited him well.

"I think she's already sick of you," Roldan said, earning a somewhat shocked expression from Sarah and, oddly enough a more fervent blush. It would be a long time before she could forget that it was Roldan who had liberated her from Jareth's stupid torment yesterday, and while he made no mention of it she couldn't help but feel things were now a bit awkward.

"What's that? Are you griping again?" Jareth asked, with such a light heart. Roldan shrugged and carried on, but not without revealing the faintest of grins. It was now doubly strange, being in such a casual atmosphere with them. Usually, when she was around at least, they were a lot more professional towards one another or maybe simply...a lot less cordial.

"So, what brings you all the way out here anyway? Shouldn't you be studying? Where's your Lady?" Roldan asked, and Sarah realized she had been spacing out again. She didn't catch Jareth eyeing her curiously.

Yes, that would be the first thing he'd bring up. That morning's lesson had been pleasantly short, but that was only because Jareth never showed up. They were supposed to rehearse that stupid marriage ceremony and, according to Roldan, Jareth had promised to stop in and play his part. Roldan's displeasure with the no-show went without saying. They seemed fine now, though. She was sure Roldan gave him a good earful. Ah well, there was always tomorrow.

"Oh, um, Mariella is busy being painted right now. I figured I'd study later," she said, to which Roldan's brow rose.

"What do you mean, being painted?" he asked.

"I mean her portrait. We were having lunch outside and there were some goblins nearby and we all decided it would be fun to do some painting..." she explained.

"You paint?" Jareth asked, and she darted her head towards him. His eyes on her were full of intrigue.

"Um, no. Not really. It was more for the goblins. Mariella and I were the models."

"The models you say? In that case I shall have to see the final product."

He was surprised when Sarah's eyes suddenly widened and she started waving her hands at him.

"Oh no. No, no I don't think you want to do that," she said, with a bit of a laugh. Her reaction was starting to tug on Roldan's attention as well.

"Really? Why is that? Have they captured your image to something less than perfection? Shall I chop off their heads? Or were you posing something scandalous which you do not want me to see?" he asked, a joke that only fueled her alarm.

"What?! Neither! Geez are you crazy? What do you mean off with their heads? The game was to see who could paint the worst painting anyway...It wasn't something we were taking seriously," she said, folding her arms and looking away. Apparently, his sarcasm had gone over her head. "I actually kind of like my painting...I'm just not sure it's something you would appreciate," she mumbled.

"And you say Mariella is currently the subject of such an activity?" Roldan asked, with clear disapproval. Sarah spun around to face him.

"Yeah...she wasn't exactly excited for it though. I got a little bored and went for a walk. Speaking of that..." and she found herself distracted.

She didn't know why, but her words faded just then. Actually, scratch that. She knew exactly why. His arm was pulled back, and not only was Roldan _not_ wearing his usual jacket, but the sleeves of his shirt were also rolled up like Jareth's. She'd turned around to be caught eye-level with his flexed forearm and bicep and the amount of muscle discovered there was...disturbingly surprising. She turned back to face Jareth in a flash, but the way their eyes met told her he had caught her reaction plainly.

"There...there was something I wanted to ask you," she said, finishing her original thought. His eyes on her twitched ever so slightly, though it appeared he chose to ignore her little folly. She let out an internal sigh of relief then, something that helped to sooth her impending blush of shame. But that aside, who knew that underneath all those stiff clothes Roldan was so built? _Hmm. Good for him_, she thought.

"What is it?" Jareth asked, and she quickly shook those thoughts away.

"I thought you said magic flowers only grew in that one part of the garden," she said. Jareth cocked a brow.

"I did," he affirmed, and became curious of Sarah's subsequent frown.

"Well...I think one of the gardeners messed up then...or maybe a seed got blown away be the wind-"

"What are you talking about?" Jareth asked. Roldan kept quiet but listened carefully. Sarah's eyes fell to the ground before speaking.

"I picked one of the flowers...I got pricked by a thorn and...I don't know something weird started happening." Jareth placed his bow on its rest and gave her a very serious look.

"What started happening?" he asked and from his tone she felt she was about to be thoroughly interrogated.

"Um...It's hard to describe. Everything got really hazy and shimmery and it was hard to breathe...not really like what happened last time but-"

"What else?" Jareth interrupted.

Roldan's brow drew, then. _Last time?_

"Um, well...Liana was there-"

"What?"

Sarah stopped then. Jareth's tone had become something stern. She looked around a bit, feeling as if she were in trouble for something. Roldan carried on in the background, only becoming more and more confused. _Liana? Who the hell is Liana?_

"I...well I don't know if she was actually there, but I saw her," she explained, looking back up to him. She was worried now, he looked on edge.

"What happened next?" he asked. Sarah shrugged.

"Nothing really. Like I said, it was hard to move, to see and to breathe. I tried talking to Liana but she just told me to wake up. The next thing I knew I was lying on the ground and there was nothing there. I figure...it must have been the flower...giving me a weird hallucination or something," she said, eyeing him carefully for a reaction. He stared at her for a moment, riddled with contemplation, but soon it faded and the tension about him relaxed. He looked away from her, but she noticed his eyes stayed on Roldan. She wondered then, should she have waited until they were alone to tell him?

"If the guards did not assist you, then whatever happened must have been in your head."

Sarah turned sharply, as those words had not come from Jareth but Roldan. He looked unfazed, but something about him was suspicious.

"Well...that's what I thought too...but I wanted to let you know anyway..." she said, turning back to Jareth. Oddly enough, he was smiling now.

"Yes, Roldan is correct. It was probably something in the garden. I'll have the guards comb through it, as well as question them about your behavior during said time," Jareth said and seemed to forget the issue then and there. Sarah kept her eyes on him...it seemed like there was something he was keeping back, or maybe...maybe he was just worried. Wouldn't that have been nice.

Jareth fought hard not to let his worry show as he retook to his game. Though he stared straight ahead, he knew Roldan was observing him closely. He'd done well for a thousand years to keep Liana a secret and in one split second Sarah had nearly ruined it all. He thanked the gods that her words had remained vague and he thanked the gods that Roldan had kept quiet. But he knew the man wouldn't for long, which meant he needed to come up with a story quick. Roldan might know better than to prod at him in front of Sarah, but Jareth also knew that a firm tug on the elbow awaited as soon as they were alone. Dammit. Fuck.

But that wasn't even the worst of it. What the hell was Sarah talking about? There was no way that could have been Liana, his spell was still functioning at full capacity. So how? And that's when Liana's threat dawned on him, one that came close to undoing his calm facade. Was she not bluffing after all? Did she have the power to bypass his charm all along? Was she merely toying with him? What was the purpose of this vision?

Thoughts began to race through his mind as tension built in his stance. He aimed at the center of the target but he knew that if he were to release right now he would miss it completely. _She told Sarah to wake up...is she trying to...no...no it can't be._

"Hey, so what's this? Why's it so much bigger than the other ones?"

Jareth blinked out of his daze to find Sarah and Roldan conversing, apparently long since moved on from the last conversation. She fingered the rack between them which held varying types of bows, her interest landing on one in particular.

"It's called a longbow," Roldan said.

"Holy crap. This thing is as tall as me!" Sarah said, smiling brilliantly as she examined it. Jareth was caught off guard when she then directed that smile at him. "Can you shoot this?" she asked. Jareth hesitated for a moment. He was still worked up over Liana. She waited patiently however, and it didn't take more than the simple joy on her face to make him forget all about his own worries. He gave her a one-sided smile and shrugged with indifference.

"Of course I can. Would you like to see?" he asked, ignoring the huff and shake of the head his newly rejuvenated tone had received from Roldan. Sarah's smile broadened and she took a step back.

"Heck yea! I've never seen anything like this before," she said, moving out of the way while he switched weapons. He passed in front of her, moved closer to her; his proximity sent a chill down her spine and she used the moment to analyze her jitters.

Seeing him now wasn't as awkward as she'd thought it would be, after last night...Last night...well, technically it had ended on a positive note and yet...

She convinced herself that she was still mad about the whole chained to a desk thing and would continue to be for several more days, but that was not the incident that put her off today. He had been so sweet, so charming in the hall. He had carried her all the way back to her room and when he said he'd give her a "peace offering" she had assumed- well, she wasn't quite sure what she had assumed. However, that didn't stop her from feeling disappointed with what did happen.

He'd carried her back to her room and...that was it. She was even willing to look past her annoyance by the time they'd gotten there, and when he took her to the bed...

But no. In a most out of character way, he had plopped her on the bed and -like a perfect gentleman- took his leave soon after. She didn't get it. She was not one to ever admit she had wanted him to stay, had wanted him to do what he always did, what he was _so well known_ for doing, but even after their tiff (or perhaps because of it) she had wanted him nonetheless.

In the scope of things, his actions should have made her happy, they should have comforted her and maybe that _was_ his intention in doing so. But...it didn't feel that way. Perhaps she was just being paranoid but it didn't seem like the whole contraceptive issue could have been -or had been- resolved so easily. He had denied her intimacy twice now and although she was probably just overthinking it, she couldn't help but feel that maybe he just...didn't want to.

It was ludicrous, yes, and she was beside herself. Never did she think she would find herself in the position of such insecurity, fearful of_ not _being wanted by him. But he was always so forceful, so blatant about it. Perhaps she was just used to such behavior, but these two instances...however minor they may have appeared to be...she saw through his deflection. Would this become a bigger issue? Would he not desire her the same because she was no longer, as one might say, _natural?_ Would he take it that seriously? Frankly, she just wasn't sure and that little bit of skepticism was enough to keep her fretting about it well into the night. And then, and then he didn't even show up for the lesson. How could she not over analyze that? But...for as much as it bothered her, she was also glad for it. The fewer reminders she had about this stupid wedding the better. She was just so confused...her feelings for this man, what even were they at this point? Could she live with herself if they became too strong?

She had started to frown, but both their backs were to her for the moment. Her eyes darted up when he moved to stand in a different lane, one that aligned with the farthest target. Sarah's eyes widened. It was so far away. It looked so tiny.

"Wait, you mean you're going to hit that?" she asked. Jareth peered back with a sassy brow.

"You sound skeptical," he said and turned back to take aim. She moved to stand beside him and inspected his stance with firm intrigue.

"Why are you holding it sideways?" she asked. Roldan glanced over with a most tired expression. He felt like he was about to intrude on something. Wasn't this supposed to be leisure time spent away from the women?

"Heh...It's not sideways. Longbows are a bit different than the one I was using...you have to hold it at a bit of an angle, like this," he explained, his ego starting to throb. It wasn't often that he actually got to teach her something.

"Why are you aiming it up?" she asked, and he smiled at how cute she sounded.

"Because this is quite a long distance, you have to use an arc. If I tried to aim directly at it, it would go straight into the ground."

"Ah."

"I imagine it would be quite embarrassing if you were to miss, Jareth. Make sure you take your time," Roldan said, cheekily. She caught Jareth's smirk just before he shot. It moved so fast and was so thin she couldn't track it, but a faint thud off in the distance drew her attention and, low and behold, there was a tiny little arrow sticking straight out of the tiny little target.

Roldan sighed at the jaunty grin he then received.

"Oh, what were you saying Roldan? I couldn't hear you over the sound of my precisional excellence."

"Look more closely. You only managed to hit the second ring."

"Am I to believe you could do better?" Sarah asked. Roldan stared down at her for a moment and then reached out for the bow. Jareth grinned. Oh, how irksome it must be for him to be challenged by a woman. He handed it over without a fuss.

Quietly, Roldan took Jareth's place in the shooting lane and without much care at all aimed and shot in one fluid movement. Sarah was surprised by his confidence for sure, but even more surprised when he hit the target even closer to the center than Jareth.

He handed the bow back and returned to his own lane.

"Oh, look who's getting serious all of a sudden. Isn't it customary to let the king win in all competitions?" Jareth asked. Roldan huffed.

"Please. I value my honor far more than my hide," he said and went back to his original bow. Sarah kept watching with interest.

"So...you've been doing this since you were kids?" she asked, more voicing the thought than anything else. Jareth put the longbow back in its rack and took up a smaller one.

"Yes," Jareth answered. Sarah stepped closer and watched as their shots flew.

"And...how many years ago was that?"

"Excuse me?" Roldan asked. Sarah played with the feathers on the ends of the arrows.

"_Hmph_, was the question too difficult for you Roldan?" Jareth asked, snickering. Roldan glared. "The answer is many centuries ago. Why the sudden interest?" he asked. Sarah shrugged.

"I don't know. I've just been wondering about it recently...Marie told me Davion's age...like nine-hundred and something something..."

"Nine-hundred-and-eighty-six," Jareth said very matter-of-factly.

"Yeah...and I guess his birthday is in the winter?"

"In December, actually."

"Hm...when's your birthday?" Jareth paused then and a flicker of a smile lit up his face. How amazing was this? She was actually inquiring about himself. She'd never shown much of an interest before.

"In April," he said and let go another shot. Sarah peered around him.

"And you Roldan?"

"In March."

Sarah's brow rose.

"Oh wow, so close. You guys are close in age, too, right?" she asked. She recalled Roldan mentioning something about his age once, but the memory escaped her now.

"That's correct. Roldan is a grand two years younger than me," Jareth said, and that really had Sarah's brow rising.

"Wait-what? Seriously?"

Roldan peered over from the corner of his eye.

"You find that surprising?" he asked, vaguely offended. Sarah pursed her lips.

"Um, well, a little bit. I mean...don't take this the wrong way, but you look a lot older." She heard Jareth huff and glanced up to find him smirking.

"Tell me, how old do you think we are?" Jareth asked. Sarah furrowed her brow. That was obviously a trick question.

"Um...well, despite knowing you're some-odd centuries old, I'd have to guess that you look...um...thirties? Thirty-five? And Roldan...you look forty...maybe. I don't know. I'm not good at guessing ages," she said.

"Close," Jareth said, his smile rather shifty. "My physical maturity is at thirty-nine years. Roldan's is at forty-three."

For reasons that didn't quite dawn on Jareth, Sarah was a bit taken aback.

"Wha? You're...thirty-nine?..." Her voice trailed off and her eyes wandered away. _Oh...geez...that's over twice my age. He...he could be my dad...ugh..._

"Oh, don't give me that look." And her head darted up on reflex. "If I'm guessing your thoughts correctly, let me assure you by saying that I'm old enough to be your great great great great great great grandfather, let alone your father. So, I feel that painful expression of discomfort, along with those extenuating standards of yours are not only hypocritical, but far beyond moot."

Sarah would have blushed then if those words of "reassurance" weren't received in the complete wrong way. She glared up at him, offended by his comment.

"Well, how old are you then? Frickin' pedo."

Roldan's brow rose then but he held his tongue.

"Will it make you feel any better?" Jareth asked, his impish smile making it ten times worse. Sarah crossed her arms and leaned against the rack.

"Well, let's piece it together shall we? You took office like five-hundred years ago. Your younger brother is nine-hundred-and-eighty-six and you're two years older than Roldan-"

"Alright. Alright already," Roldan interrupted. Both of them turned to look at him. He looked...so very impatient.

"Jareth is one-thousand-and-two. That makes me precisely one-thousand years old. Happy? Could this question have been drawn out any further?"

Sarah blinked at him dumbly while Jareth stifled a laugh.

"Forgive us for engaging in the pleasant art of conversation," Jareth said. "Would you rather we argue as usual?"

"Wait- so...if you're younger than Jareth, how come you look so much older?" Sarah asked, interrupting their little stand off and feeding her own curiosity. She was always curious about the way they aged, whether they aged slowly or not at all...how that all worked. It was quite a thing to ponder. How long would their children be children?

Jareth giggled then. A most suspicious reaction indeed.

"Because he's insecure," he said, rolling his eyes to Roldan who only scowled in return. Sarah looked confused.

"Huh?"

"Come Roldan, why don't you explain it for us. You've been so quiet thus far."

Roldan turned and grumbled.

"Since you seem so curious..." he started, and set down his bow to rest his arms. "You might be surprised to learn that Fae actually age at the same rate as humans. Only..."

"Only what?"

"We have the ability to start and stop that process."

"Huh? What do you mean?" Sarah asked. This time Jareth jumped in.

"It's important to understand, as it is easy to get construed, we as physical being are not immortal."

"You're not? But I thought you guys lived forever?"

"We do...or rather, we can. If we so choose."

Sarah started to frown now.

"I don't get it."

"It is our vitality that is immortal...our spirit if you will. Our physical bodies are vulnerable to the same dangers as your own. We can die from injuries or from illness and if we allow it, we can even die from old age. But, being the magical beings we are, we have the special ability to halt the aging process. Fueled by our vitality of spirit, this creates the illusion of immortality. We can also start the aging process at any time, though we cannot reverse it."

"Oh...hm...I see," Sarah mumbled, gripping her chin as she thought. That all made sense...so Jareth wasn't invincible? Well, of course not. Aurelia died of a fever after all. And Jareth's parents...they died too. So as long as their body remained healthy they could theoretically live forever? But if they allowed themselves to age...if their bodies became too decrepit, they would perish just like anyone else? Huh.

"Make any sense?" Jareth asked. Sarah nodded but it wasn't convincing.

"So...that has to relate to Roldan's physical maturity because...?"

And then Roldan sighed.

"Because I am a servant."

"Huh?" Sarah's head popped up eagerly. But now, Roldan looked much more reserved.

"Because I am a servant of humble birth who has risen to a considerable position...I thought it might earn more respect if I were perceived to be Jareth's senior. I might be taken more seriously that way. So, I allowed myself to age a few years more than he. Make sense?"

"Huh, yeah. It does actually. Wow. Weird."

Sarah looked down again, but this time her contemplation was bright. _How interesting. I never would have thought..._

"It's quite convincing, isn't it?" Jareth suddenly asked. She peered up to find him smirking again. "Even I sometimes forget and find myself deferring out of respect for my elders. The old man must be wise right? But is he wise because he is old? Or old because he is wise?" he asked, mockingly. Roldan bit the inside of his cheek and turned away. How insolent...

"So how about you?"

Roldan peered over but realized she was talking to Jareth.

"What about me?" Jareth asked.

"Why did you pick thirty-nine?" she clarified. Her brow drew tight when his smile became something naughty.

"I was told it is an age that is quite becoming on me," he said, cheekily. Sarah narrowed her eyes.

"Uh-huh...what about Davion?"

"What about him?"

"Why did he choose to stay so young?"

Jareth turned away then and the smile turned to a sneer.

"Twenty-three. If you were to ask him, that man-child would say it's his_ most sensual age_. In a way I'd say it's fitting. Reflects his level of maturity perfectly-"

"Says you."

The pout he caught out of the corner of his eye was just too cute not to make fun of.

"You would disagree?" he asked. Sarah rose a brow.

"Disagree? No. However, I don't think you have any room to talk. I'd say it's the exact opposite in your case."

Jareth smiled wide then.

"I know. I'm wise beyond my years," he said and she actually laughed. It was a pleasant sound. Unexpected. He was worried she may still be mad at him about yesterday. He watched as her laughter faded to a hum and she stared down into the quiver of arrows and played with the fletching. She looked so sweet, the skirt of her dress blowing in the breeze, long locks of raven hair falling over her shoulder. He wanted to brush it out of the way, to glimpse the pale nape of her neck, to see the shivers that ran down her spine when he touched her. "Say...would you like to try?"

Sarah peered up and the brightness in her eyes brought warmth to his heart.

"Try what?" she asked. Jareth smiled and reached for one of the bows on the rack.

"What do you think? Here, you should be able to draw this one back," he said and handed it to her. She took it tentatively, with a type of innocent excitement he hadn't yet seen in her.

"What do I do?" she asked. Jareth moved to stand behind her and guided her into stance.

"Here, it's all about form. Stand like this-" he said and turned her hips. Her eyes shot to the ground and she swallowed, feeling embarrassed with Roldan right there. He had been ignoring them though, caught in his own little world.

"Like this?" she asked, looking up and then back down again after seeing how close his face was to hers.

"Mhm...now, hold it out like this," and he reached out and extended her arm. She kept her breathing steady, but nervousness had become a natural response to his close proximity and instead of becoming more familiar with it, it seemed her reactions only got worse and worse. Her eyes darted to his profile in line with hers, his chin resting on her shoulder. He slid an arrow into place and adjusted her fingers on the draw string. Geezus, why the fuck were her hands getting clammy? "This is important. Don't pull back with your arm, use the muscles in your back," he said, which made her confused.

"I...I don't-"

"Just give it a try."

"...Like this?"

Roldan tried his best not to growl as he was forced into becoming the awkward third wheel. He tried his best but ignoring them was impossible. He would glare over from time to time, spying on their pleasantries. It was irritating. Their casual flirting sickened him. It would be unprecedented for him to just walk away however. No, he had to endure it for just a little while longer. He was kind of glad Jareth had finally given her a bow though, maybe now she would quit with the twenty questions.

Jareth seemed to be having a blast. Look at him, crouched all over her with that stupid grin. And her, so doe-eyed and ignorant. Please. He knew better. This was all empty. It wouldn't be much longer until they were at each other's throats like usual.

With a nasty grimace he glared away, raising his nose at the scene. He wouldn't admit it, but what bothered him wasn't that he thought they were being fake, it was that he recognized that they were genuinely happy. He didn't get it. She was so angry yesterday. They were so weird.

"Now, pull it back to your cheek and try to aim using the tip of the arrow."

"Oh...Geez, that's kind of hard isn't it?" Sarah asked, surprised at how difficult it was to pull the string back. Jareth smiled and stepped back from her.

"You'll get used to it. Try pulling it back and releasing it a few times. It'll get easier."

"Okay..." She felt a hand at her back and one on her arm.

"Remember to maintain posture. Stand tall. Keep your elbow up."

"Oh, um, okay."

Roldan shook his head. Was she seriously playing the damsel? As if she'd never experienced a bow before. And what was with Jareth coddling her like that? Since when did he pamper anything?

"So I just pull it back...aim...and..."

_THWOCK!_

Sarah blinked. Repeatedly. She might have closed her eyes just then but- if she was seeing things correctly-

"OH MY GOD DID YOU SEE THAT?!"

Sarah whipped around with the biggest smile Jareth had ever seen and actually bounced up and down like a giddy child. He was speechless, frankly. Good thing she turned and directed that glee at Roldan.

"Hey Roldan, did you see that? I actually hit it!" she cheered, jumping up and down and throwing her arms up in the air. Jareth tried to share in her joy, but was too baffled that he could help elicit such a reaction from her in the first place. Roldan peered ahead with a very sour expression.

"Just barely. Look, you're in the outermost ring," he pointed out, earning a quick glare from Jareth. Sarah turned around but her smile hadn't lessened any.

"Who cares! I hit the target! My first shot ever and I hit it! Wow. Can I do it again Jareth?"

Jareth, taken aback by her fervor, could only smile and hand her another arrow.

"I don't know, can you?" he asked, challengingly. She smiled wide and pulled the arrow from his grasp, immediately forgetting all about the lot of them and focusing solely on the task at hand. Reluctantly turning away, Jareth reached for his own bow.

"Remember not to get cocky. Get too excited and you'll mess up, or worse, hurt yourself," he warned and she started to settle down.

"Got it," she said and took a deep breath. A very serious face followed her exhale, a type of composure Jareth found to be very gratifying.

It became silent after that. Sarah (forgetting all about poor Marie) became extremely engrossed in the sport. They had to give her credit, for her first time she really did have some skill. Managing to hit the target at all was a feat in itself and she had to have averaged one out of every three shots. But while she put on a tough facade, Jareth was secretly concerned. She wasn't used to that type of exercise and he had a feeling she was feeling a bit more worn out than she let on. Knowing her, she probably felt she had to keep up with them. Did she realize they had near super human strength?

Roldan however was not so interested and had grown bored long ago. Once things had settled down he tried feeling his way for a good exiting point. It'd become late afternoon and he was starting to get antsy about all the work he was falling behind on. Finally, he gave in.

* * *

"Alright. I'm done."

Sarah and Jareth looked over to find Roldan closing up shop. He put his bow back in the rack and rolled his shoulder. The action reminded Sarah of her own sore muscles but she was determined to hit the center ring before they were through. Who knows, maybe this could be her new thing? Jareth watched him but didn't say anything right away.

"...Getting back to work are we?" he asked.

"Someone ought to," Roldan said, rolling down the sleeves of his shirt. Sarah's eyes caught on the movement but, fearful of another folly, looked away again. "Don't forget, I've scheduled the seamstress to come the day after tomorrow," he added, a comment that drew Sarah's attention.

"The seamstress?" she asked.

"Yes. The dressmaker. I've contacted the best this kingdom has to offer. Hopefully she'll be able to make you look presentable for the ceremony."

Jareth's eyes brightened at the thought while Sarah frowned behind him.

"Ah, well then. I'll have to make sure I actually stop in this time," he said. Roldan scowled.

"If only," he said and turned to leave. "Enjoy your day off. Try not to let Sarah hurt herself."

She stared after him as he walked away and then her eyes widened with a forgotten thought.

"Oh, hey! Roldan! Could you make sure Marie knows where I am?" she called out, dread filling her heart as she realized she'd totally ditched her. Ah, well, Marie was a light-hearted individual, she probably wouldn't fret too much...hopefully. Roldan waved a hand but didn't speak. Apparently that was a yes.

Feeling a little guilty, she was a tad reluctant to resume her activity.

"She's a grown woman. Stop worrying," Jareth said. Sarah peered up.

"I feel bad...I told her I wouldn't be gone long. It has to have been over an hour now...maybe two. She worries endlessly. Hmm..."

"Like I said, she's a grown woman. More than that she is a lady-in-waiting. She should know enough to expect to be left behind every now and then. Your lives are not parallel and she has plenty of means to entertain herself."

His words were rational but they didn't make her feel any better. She'd have to make it up to Marie somehow. This wasn't the first time this had happened...

Putting the issue on hold for now, she shrugged it off and pulled the string back. Jareth watched her blatantly.

"Say...you may want to take it easy," he said and she relaxed.

"Huh? Why?"

"Because you're not used to this. It's easy to over-exert yourself, especially when it's someone as bullheaded as you." Sarah scowled and looked away. She wasn't a kid, she could handle pulling back a stupid string.

"I've been doing fine so far haven't I? I won't get better if I don't practice," she said -only proving his point. Jareth sighed and shook his head. At least they were spending time together.

It didn't take long for Jareth's words to get to her. It was like reverse-psychology. He'd warned her about getting worn out and now all of the sudden her arms were starting to hurt. Well tough shit. She still hadn't hit the center ring yet and here Jareth was shooting them off at the flick of a finger. He should have known better than to engage her in any kind of sport.

She pulled back and her arm staggered. Jareth had told her not to use the muscles in her arm but her shoulder and back were getting sore. The pads of her fingers were starting to hurt too. Her skin wasn't tough enough. It was getting frustrating. But all she needed was one, one good mark and she would call it a night. She closed one eye and bit her lip as she aimed, taking her time. The tension in her arm built and, on accident, let go of the string. There was a sharp slice and she jumped back, throwing the bow the ground on reflex and jabbing her finger into her mouth.

"Ah! Dammit! Again?" she yelled, sucking the blood that oozed from her finger. She'd forgotten about that stupid cut from the flower. Seems the snap of the draw string reopened it. Bitch.

Jareth turned towards her most frantically.

"Are you okay?" he asked, stepping towards and reaching out for her. She stepped away, wanting space to be angry, and scowled at her stupid finger.

"I'm fine, I'm fine. I forgot I cut my finger earlier. I just sliced it open again."

"Let me see-"

"It's nothing more than a paper cut, I'm fine." She scowled quite intently as she grumbled. She pulled her finger from her lips, the skin turned white from the force of her bite, but still blood oozed. She almost growled at it. Paper cuts were the most annoying of injuries.

She was surprised when her hand was suddenly yanked from her view.

"I said let me see."

She looked up to Jareth as he inspected her hand, held firmly in his own. Her mouth opened to speak but she was quiet. There was a flare in her chest, something unexpected, and she realized just this moment that they were completely alone. Why that sent her all a frazzle went without saying.

She yanked her hand away and held it close to her chest.

"Hey. I said it was fine," she snapped. Jareth glared at her and rose a brow.

"And you're getting so defensive because?" he asked, taking a step towards her. She felt another flare and retreated further.

"Oh don't you even. I know what you were going to do-"

"What the hell would that be?" he asked. Sarah angled herself away and pursed her lips.

"Don't act so clueless. I remember what you did last time. You were totally going to suck on my wounds you weirdo!"

Jareth just stared at her.

"You mean...what you were doing to yourself just now?" he pointed out. She looked shocked at such a comment, which made it clear to him that the problem was something other than her finger.

"Yeah, well, I don't enjoy the taste of people's bodily fluids like some people I know. So you just stay away!"

"Sarah...come here."

"No. It's bad enough you licked my sticky knee. There's no way I'm gonna let you straight up drink my blood."

Jareth started laughing then and he ran a hand through his hair. Sarah eyed him carefully, exasperation and a hot summer's day were a good combo on the fearsome Goblin King. He finished laughing and sighed, shaking his head and rolling his eyes back down to hers. She held her breath when she saw the sharpness in his gaze.

"Oh, now that is _definitely_ what I'm going to do."

She had enough time to gasp before he lunged at her, then turned and sprinted for the hills. She didn't make it far however, she was wearing a stupid dress and was too busy tripping on the skirt to stand any chance of evading him. She reached for the hem and gained a couple feet, but they were going up a hill and of course, of fucking course she would step on the stupid frilly ends and slip. And of course, of fucking course he would reach out to her right at that moment and ensure their downfall went together.

She shrieked and tripped over herself, crashing into the grass with Jareth firmly on top of her. She tried to crawl out from under him but all he had to do was grab her arms and flip her over. He laid out flat against her, using his weight to subdue her and laughed while she struggled. She groaned and swatted at him with her hands, but that only worked against her as those were his objectives all along. He pinned the one to her side and clasped the other tightly. She huffed and puffed then glared away in defeat.

"Ugh. Fine. You got me. Now get off, you're crushing me," she said, though he only tilted his head.

"You'll be fine," he said, then let go of her one hand so he could better inspect the injured one. She stopped fighting him and simply looked away in spite. "So much fuss over a tiny scratch," he said and she pouted harder. "All because you're afraid that I'll do this..." he said and she couldn't help but peer over just as his lips touched the tip of her index finger. "See? Was that so bad?" he asked. She curled her finger and immediately realized that it no longer stung. He'd healed it. With just a kiss. She suddenly found herself wondering why she had started freaking out in the first place. "Hm? No response?" Jareth said and now she found herself blushing. Had she done this on purpose? Had she wanted him to chase after her? Why did she feel so nervous right now?

He began to caress her hand, now limp in his hold.

"Or maybe...you were hoping for something more like this..."

She held her breath when he rose her hand to his lips again, only now it was slower, it was sensual. His lips parted and he curled his tongue around the tip of her finger, slowly drawing it in. She felt a heat bloom and her chest rose with a steady intake of breath. Jareth's sly eyes were wanton and gently sucked on her finger in a manner that was in no way appropriate. She didn't know why, but the heat, the wetness of his mouth, the feel of his tongue and the look in his eye, it made her stomach twist in knots that formed a tension she felt all the way to her toes. Her mouth was hanging open. She knew she must look like a fool but she was totally entranced.

He lowered her fingers from his mouth and nipped on the spot where the cut used to be. It felt like they were very close all of the sudden, like they were in their own little world and his lips, they made her lick her own and she...couldn't stand the distance between them.

"...No response?" he asked, his voice a great deal softer. She felt her legs squirming but he didn't stop them from spreading. "What's the matter? You had so much to say a moment ago." The hand that held hers lowered to rest on her chest, his thumb stroking her palm.

"Jareth-" and a rock formed in her throat. Deep down she knew exactly what her problem was, she just...couldn't...

"Mhm?"

"Do you...not want to have sex with me?"

Jareth just...stared.

"W-what?"

His look of bewilderment was incomparable. Sarah looked away and bit her lip.

"I...I don't know. It's just...last night."

"What about last night?"

She squeezed his hand as she struggled, though he was sure she didn't realize.

"You...left. And I mean, the whole thing that happened before...in the map room. I just...wanted to confirm."

"Confirm what?"

"This whole contraceptive thing."

Jareth scowled then.

"What about it?"

"You just...you said it was okay but...even after you left. You've never just passed up an opportunity and I can't help but think that maybe...you're hesitant or maybe you're...put off by me now because I'm not...well...I don't know."

She continued to squirm beneath him but he was firmly nestled between her legs. She looked so ashamed, a subtle blush coloring her face.

It was quiet, so much so that the sound of the wind rustling the grass became raucous. Jareth stared at her, seriously contemplating her words. Was there any truth to them? A truth he hadn't even realized?

Her face was turned away and she bit on her lip with uncertainty, then closed her eyes tight when she felt his thumb on her chin pulling it from her teeth. He turned her back to face him and raked his eyes over her.

"You think...I'm still punishing you?" he asked. She opened her eyes and they glistened with unease. He stroked her cheek and moved his face close to hers. "Do you feel...neglected?"

He felt a tug on his arm and realized she had grasped him.

"I would like a straight answer...for once," she said.

Jareth glanced away, the hand that once held hers traveled down and she went stiff at his touch. His expression was solemn, but his hand moved with tenderness. Down her side. Around her hip. She felt him start to bunch up the layers of her skirt and realized her thighs were already pressed against his hips. He stopped and placed his hand against the top of her thigh.

"Your heart is racing," he said, and let his hand squeeze. She gulped but held her ground, especially when he lowered his head and pressed his lips against her sternum. "I didn't think...something like this would bother you so much. If anything, I would have thought you'd be relieved," he said.

"Well, I'm not," she admitted, much to her own confusion. Jareth smiled against her skin, the hand at her cheek moving to splay in her hair.

"It's pathetic, but I'm actually spiteful enough to enjoy this moment," he said and rose his head. She looked at him worriedly; that wasn't exactly what she was hoping to hear. "It would be a lie to say that our agreement doesn't bother me," he continued. "But..." and then his hand moved up, his fingers snaking under the lace of her underwear. "I've never lain with you with the particular intention of conceiving a child. So I think...it'll be just fine."

His fingers moved then, subtly, delicately, and she twitched from the surprise contact. His fingers pressed down and gently messaged her sex, his stare on her growing in hunger as her back began to steadily arch off the ground.

"So...were you just punishing me then? Or...were you...really not...interested..."

She tried to keep her voice from sounding breathy, but failed in stifling the faint gasps that his touch elicited. Her mouth was open, drawing in deep breaths, her eyes locked on his. She could feel his hand tightening in her hair and a new pressure pushed against her pubic bone.

Jareth took a deep breath. Just her mere expression was enough to seduce him -those rosy cheeks, those bright glistening eyes with their splay of wilting lashes. And that mouth. So warm and welcoming. He was a true monster to toy with her so.

He ignored her question, his gaze glazing over as he stared at her. His head lowered, his lips parted, and the anticipation of their contact made her chest heave. His hand tightened in her hair, his arm flexing and angling her head as he lowered his mouth and kissed her.

He was still for a moment, and then something in him snapped. He closed his eyes and kissed her again, deeply, removing his hand from down below and winding both into the dark cascade of her hair. She gasped. There was a sudden passion in him, something unusual. His tongue bore deep into her mouth and she brought her arms tightly around his neck. This was different. This wasn't how they usually kissed.

She arched her body to him and tightened her legs around his waist. An arm went behind her back, another behind her head, and it seemed they were embracing each other desperately. But no matter how much she moved against him, no matter how much she murmured and gasped, he just kept kissing her. Kissing her senseless. And she thought for a moment, thought that maybe he wasn't planning on doing anything else. That he wasn't planning anything at all. He was lost in a moment, and she melted under the heat of such genuine ardor.

She finally managed to pull away to take a real breath, but his mouth only moved on to her neck. Her hands were around his shoulders and she pulled at his shirt as she felt the hard muscle underneath. His smell was so masculine, of sweat and sun and leather. As his body moved against her, and as she took in his feel, his taste, his smell, she realized her desperate need for this man, to be wanted and fulfilled by him. When had this happened? When had she become so dependent? She wondered whether or not she was bothered by that fact and concluded only if he did not feel the same.

"Jareth-" she breathed, looking sharply away to gain some clarity. She was so confused. She did not want to depend on him and yet was she not enthralled by the feeling it gave her? He pulled back, and when he looked at her she realized she'd been depending on him from day one.

"I don't think I will ever lose interest in you," he said and from the heat of the moment did she feel the gravity of his words. Forever was a long time, something he had a far better comprehension of than her. But how could anyone be sure in making such a statement? She didn't believe it.

"So you were punishing me?" she asked and he smiled as he stroked the hair from her face. They were so close. She could feel his breath on her cheek.

"No," he said, his voice hushed, a low whisper, then glanced away to pull a blade of grass from her hair. "I simply did not think you desired me even half as much as I desire you. Usually when I leave, I hear you sighing with relief," he added and she had to look away when her cheeks flushed.

"...Or disappointment," she mumbled, shocked that she would ever dare admit it. Jareth tilted his head.

"Then in such cases all you have to do is tell me to stay," he said and she glanced back. His eyes on her were soft, endearing and she feared she had been found. Did he know? Did he know how much it bothered her? Had he known all along? "Sometimes..." he started and then glanced away himself. "it is nice to feel...wanted in return," he said and lightly kissed her lips. His eyes remained low, fixated on her mouth as he pulled away. "Do you want me Sarah?" he asked and she felt her voice leave her. "Do you want me all on your own? Or have you simply been...responding to my advances?" _Would you ever come to me if I were to turn my back on you? Or would this love only continue if I were to never leave your sight?_ he wanted to ask, but refrained, fearful of her answer.

He felt her hand tighten on his shoulder and looked up to her. Her gaze was hooded, her eyes dark and misty. He opened his mouth slightly to speak again but couldn't. She'd tightened her grip on him as she leaned up, hesitating for just a moment before kissing him. Openly.

Her eyes closed and she lingered, tugging on him as she lowered herself back to the grass.

It was hard to say with words, but she did not have to. For once, admission was not defeat. If the entirety of their relationship was one big power-play, right now was a queer peculiarity. At this moment, she was not afraid of admitting she wanted him, it made no sense to be. Perhaps it was simple spring fever, but something about this setting, about this intimacy, was what she had been needing. Against his considerable faults, she liked Jareth. She liked him a lot. And she knew that if he played his cards right, whether she consented to or not, she may very well end up loving him. Well, that's what she thought at least. Assuming she didn't love him already.

* * *

Jareth nipped at her lip as he pulled away, his thumbs stroking her temples, then immediately kissed her again. She was so warm under the heat of the sun, her skin so bright, her hair gleaming. He buried his face in her neck and sucked and she gasped. Her arms around him found new life and constricted, her back arching as he pressed his stomach down against hers. He pressed his pelvis against her and she gave a soft moan, turning to kiss at his own neck as her deft little fingers worked the ends of his shirt from the waist of his pants.

He panted, his head suddenly congested with heat and passion. He held onto her in an attempt to devour her, for he could hardly believe she had actually been longing for him. Her knees went around his waist and pulled his hips down as she ground against his growing erection.

His hands left her then in a frenzy, pushing up the skirts of her dress. Her thighs were so soft, her groin burning, radiating heat unto him as he clawed away her underwear. She gasped but he wasted no time, working on the confines of his own trousers next. She started pushing at his shoulders then, trying to turn his head to look at her.

"Hey- I don't know if- should we go inside?" she asked, throwing her head back when his mouth found her bosom. She breathed heavily, the focus of the sun bearing down on them was making her hot. Jareth shook his head.

"No one will see us," he said and she peered down to him again.

"Are you su-" and then she was cut off by her own moan. She laid her head back and stretched, her toes curling as he invaded her. An arm wound tightly around her waist and he plunged again, keeping his head in her neck as he moaned. Her hands, once pushing at his shoulders, now gripped them fiercely and she rose her hips to meet his next thrust.

He rose his head and pulled her face towards him, devouring her mouth in another molten kiss. She held him tight, keeping their bodies pressed together and knotted a fist into his hair. He moved fluidly, deep and slow. It was driving her crazy.

"Go faster," she whispered, heaving hot breaths as she squeezed her thighs around him. She wanted him as close as possible, but it wasn't enough. She felt him smile against her cheek and pushed into her harder. He closed his eyes and moved faster, panting loudly and groaning when she moaned.

Her legs started to fidget, curling around his backside and pressing down. He was starting to sweat now, wanting so desperately to rip both their clothes off, but never wanting to break from this moment. He could feel her climax approaching fast. She was so ready for him. But why the sudden change of heart? It didn't matter. Her insides constricted, sucking him in with each thrust. Gods he craved this woman. He craved her more and more with each breath. He embraced her tightly and pounded hard, locking his arms in a vice when she came loudly, her body squirming feverishly beneath him. He'd held his breath, pressing through it with fierce determination. He gasped when her fluids surrounded him, oozing down his shaft and burning him to the point of release.

He called her name and came deep inside her, moaning as he pushed her hard into the dirt. It was unbelievable. He had no control when he was with her. She went still and became very silent but he didn't notice. His heart was pounding, his chest heaving. Sweat beaded and dripped from his forehead onto her shoulder, and her heart raced just as fast. With a final few thrusts he gasped for breath, still half hard after such an explosive orgasm.

Once his heart settled he leaned up onto his hands and rolled off of her with a thud, throwing an arm over his eyes to shield them from the sun. He was unaware of Sarah's stare, wide-eyed and bemused. She expected him to look over and when he didn't, she too fell lax to the ground.

_Holy shit. What was- I could have sworn he'd said-_

She looked over to him again, totally discombobulated. His chest still rose and fell dramatically and his mouth hung open as he fought for breath. He was...very exhausted indeed. She placed her hands over her stomach then lowered them to smooth out her skirt. As if sensing her actions, Jareth rose his hips and situated his pants.

They were quiet for a long time, so long that Sarah questioned whether or not they had at some point fallen asleep. It was later into the afternoon, the sun had moved a great deal and the air was starting to cool down. A pleasant breeze came along the grass and she welcomed it with a sigh.

"Would you...like to have dinner together?"

She glanced over to Jareth. His arm was still over his eyes, but he lowered it and turned to meet her gaze.

"If you're not too busy, that is?" he clarified, a boyish smile spreading across his face. Sarah's eyes stayed just as wide, only now her brow furrowed deep.

"Ah..." but she couldn't really say more. She was so apprehensive. She stared at him intently, trying to figure out whether or not he realized... Jareth's smile curled and he turned to look up at the sky.

"We could even dine in the dining hall if you'd prefer. I'm sure that would make Roldan happy," he suggested, sprawling out to recline his arms behind his head. Sarah continued to eye him strangely, then copied his posture by looking towards the sky.

"I think...dinner would be nice," she said, feigning indifference when she sensed his eyes on her. She bet he was smiling...had he really not noticed?

Jareth inhaled and exhaled deeply.

"Wonderful," he said, and that was all.

It became quiet again, only now Sarah was unsettled.

"Are you...going to come to the lesson tomorrow?" she asked, trying to break the tension, though she was sure Jareth felt none of it. He peered over to her with a raised brow.

"Hm? No...No I put off my duties today to be out here. I feel I'll have quite a bit to catch up on tomorrow. However, I should be able to stop in the day after."

"During the fitting?" she asked.

"No doubt," he responded, with a grin.

Sarah tapped her fingers against her abdomen. Was he really unaware?

He rolled over to her suddenly and she flinched. His hand took hers and kissed it.

"So...about this situation with Liana," he said, changing subject completely. Sarah pursed her lips.

"Yeah?"

"Did anything else happen? Anything at all?" he asked. His tone was light and cheerful, though she gathered he was actually a lot more serious. Sarah looked away and gazed at the clouds.

"No. Not that I can recall. I know Liana has powerful magic, do you think it was really her or a hallucination?" she asked. Jareth held her hand more firm, playfully pressing it to his lips as he talked.

"I believe it must have been a vision...Liana has been away on business for some time now. Perhaps there is a subconscious reason she was the one who manifested in your thoughts," he posed, his eyes looking away discreetly. He found it was becoming harder for him to lie to her face, though it was easy once he looked away. Sarah nodded in accordance, having no reason to become suspicious.

"Hm...yeah." It was quiet for a few minutes before she spoke next. "I'm still peeved about what happened yesterday," she said. Jareth threw her a smile.

"I figured," he replied, nothing more. Sarah pursed her lips and scowled at the sky.

"You're a real jerk sometimes."

"I know."

"How long would you have left me there, if Roldan hadn't come?" she asked. Jareth rolled his eyes and shrugged.

"Until you asked me to come get you, of course," he said. Sarah shot him a dangerous glare.

"Excuse me?" she asked. Jareth's expression was bored.

"You never once asked for me, do you realize that? You called for servants, for the omnipotent forces of _help_, but never did you call for me, the one who put you there," he explained. Sarah pouted harder. "You see, I am not so blind. If you had swallowed your pride, you would have been out of there in a jiffy," he added smugly. Sarah said nothing, for both knew he was right. After he'd closed the door in her face she had outright refused to call for his help. As if he would have actually come anyway. Instead of arguing about hypotheticals however, she let herself stew silently. In all actuality, the issue didn't really bother her anymore.

"It's getting cooler out," she said, after a while. Jareth peered up.

"Are you cold?" he asked. She shook her head.

"No...it feels nice." He gazed at her, saw the minor annoyance had left her expression and allowed himself to smile. He sat up and her eyes followed him.

"Well come, we'll enjoy the breeze on the walk back. It'll be time for dinner soon."

He offered her a hand and she took it tentatively, gazing up into his smile, shadowed by the sun above. She was quiet, eyeing him the whole way back, but he seemed to be in perfect spirits. He really must not know then...but how could that be? It was hard to believe. Maybe she had misheard. Maybe it had been in her head. But she could have sworn...she could have sworn that in that brief moment, he'd called out her name and then...and then she heard the most terrifying thing imaginable...He'd buried his face in her hair. He'd called out her name, and through a gritting climax whispered the words..._I love you_.

  



	113. Oubliettes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While unbeknown to her, Sarah has succeeded in obtaining the one thing the Goblin King has desired for hundreds of years -power over the Labyrinth. After being hidden for years from his diabolical wrath, Sarah finds herself alone and vulnerable as Jareth's dark desires are finally aloud to rear their ugly heads. As always, the only question is, are things really as they seem?

Chapter 20, Oubliettes

* * *

"Well? What do you think?"

There was a silence, and it was puzzled...or rather, riddled with puzzlement. It was long, and it was concerned, or maybe...full of.

"Um...Ah..."

It was a difficult thing to wade through, and Marie...Marie just jittered with glee.

"You're quite speechless, aren't you? Oh goody!"

The silence came back, but now it was stronger. It was dubious.

Sarah found herself at quite a loss, her face twisted with odd disconcertion. Her brow was furrowed. Her head was tilted. Her mouth hung open but the words just wouldn't come. She blinked. A lot. And pursed her lips. Marie was right. She was speechless.

"I don't...I don't think I understand," Sarah said, crossing her arms tightly as she eyed the canvas in front of her. Marie smiled so wide all her teeth showed and she fisted her hands and shook them in a little cheer.

"I know! It's simply marvelous. Marvelous! Hehe!"

Sarah withdrew one of her hands and held it out in front of her, a haphazard gesture, the point of which she didn't know.

"But how..." she started to say, her hand turning in mid-air, still not knowing what to do with itself. Mariella dashed over and leaned in next to the painting.

"I know. Perfect likeness, isn't it? No. No it's even better," she said, her lively eyes darting to her portrait and back again. She backed away slightly and ran her eyes over it with great appreciation.

Sarah kept a healthy distance between them, still quite skeptical about what she was seeing.

Marie's portrait...well, it was safe to say it was not the same work she had seen yesterday. This painting, it was...stunning. It was beautiful. It was immaculate; quite simply the most wonderful thing she'd ever seen. Marie was right, it wasn't just a perfect likeness, it was better. It was atmospheric and decadent. Any sign of brushstroke completely blurred. And the colors...What could she even say about the colors? She had no words. They were real, yet they were not. They were uncanny and sublime and...and...

"And you're telling me a goblin did this?" she asked. Marie nodded dramatically.

"Yes! Who would have thought those little creatures were so talented!" she exclaimed, skipping over to stand at Sarah's side once more.

"Huh..."

"You still haven't told me what you think," Mareilla said, nudging Sarah with her shoulder. Sarah could only shake her head.

"What can I say? It's amazing Marie. I'm having a hard time believing it actually."

When Marie told Sarah she had something exciting to show her this morning, she didn't really know what to expect. As it turned out, her excitement was quite warranted. She'd barely given Sarah enough time to get dressed, let alone apologize for abandoning her the day prior, before being dragged out of her room and half way across the castle.

"I know. It took me a moment to believe it as well, but I was just so excited," Marie said. Sarah took a few steps closer now and investigated the detail.

"But how did this happen? This isn't the same painting from before, is it?" she asked. Mariella shook her head.

"Oh heavens no. No, no, that painting has been firmly disposed of," she said, very matter-of-factly. Sarah shot her an eye.

"Oh really?" she asked.

"Yes. It was quite ghastly. All of them really. And to think I sat there for two hours posing for such a thing."

Sarah leaned up and took a step back from the painting.

"Yeah, about that. I want to apologize again for ditching you yesterday. I feel really bad about it," she said, awkwardly scratching the back of her head. She'd apologized twice already, but Marie didn't seem bothered in the slightest. She wasn't expecting that. Mariella pursed her lips and threw her a wave.

"Oh please. I told you before it's nothing to fret about. After my first painting was finished and you still weren't back yet, I summoned one of the guards and asked them where you'd run off to." Sarah rose a brow.

"You did?" she quirked.

"Mhm. They said you were conversing with His Majesty so I thought it best not to disturb you. I was just going to go back inside but it was such a nice day out!" she said. Well, that was a relief, Sarah thought. It seemed that Marie had been worrying over her so much lately that Sarah had forgotten she could in fact take care of herself. Hm, again Jareth was right. Sarah worried her brow then. If the guard knew she was with Jareth, did they also know what they did _after_ the conversing? Oh dear...

"How did you get them to paint this though? They were so against it when we first started," Sarah asked. Mariella shrugged and placed her hands on her hips.

"I simply told them we were going to play a new game. One where they would compete to paint the most beautiful rendering of myself." She made a snooty little gesture with her hand then. Sarah could only laugh. "And the winner would receive one full week of unlimited sweets from the kitchens. Oh, they jumped at that let me tell you. I hope you don't mind?" she asked. Sarah blinked. Huh?

"Um, why would I care?" she asked. Mariella shrugged again.

"I didn't think you would, but I'm not sure it was really my place to make such an offer. Although, I believe the result here is quite worth the reprimand," she said. Sarah smiled and crossed her arms. Yep. It was definitely worth it.

"So who painted it?" Sarah asked.

"Oh, I believe it was Systee. You remember, the quiet one?"

"Really? That little guy painted this?" Sarah asked, bewildered. Systee was barely more than a puff-ball. His hands were so tiny; she couldn't imagine him painting this.

"Systee is a female, actually," Mariella corrected. "And yes, she did. She was so shy. I imagine I scared her half to death I was so excited!"

"Oh, really? I feel bad now. I assumed they were all male. And hey, I don't doubt it. You can be pretty intimidating when you're excited," Sarah said. Mariella turned with a trademark smile.

"Thank you. I take that as a compliment," she said, then turned back to the painting. "I wouldn't bother feeling guilty, though. It's an easy mistake to make. I only knew because the boys started complaining about how the only girl was better than them. Sore losers they were. It did get me thinking though. Since this painting turned out so well, we should definitely commission her to do one of you. Can't you imagine how lovely that would be?"

Sarah forced a smile then. It was one thing messing around in the garden, but having an official portrait like this done? For some reason that made her feel nervous.

"...That would be pretty cool...I suppose," she said, humoring her. Mariella clasped her hands.

"Wonderful. We'll have to rightly compensate her this time. Who knows, she could make a real career out of this!"

Sarah turned then, as the sound of the door opening drew her attention. Marie too peered around, and a new smile came forth as she sprang to her feet and dashed across the room.

"Oh! Master Roldan, good morning!" she exclaimed, meeting him across the room before he could even finish closing the door. She bounced on her toes and clasped her hands together and he visibly recoiled, her excitement clearly over-powering. His brow rose high and he cleared his throat, glancing away from her as he closed the door. She was right up in his face and he had to fight the urge not to simply reach out and push her away. His eyes soon landed on Sarah however, and his wide-eyed expression began to furrow.

"Good morning," he said, eyeing Mariella and her fervor strangely as he stepped around her into the room. "You're both up rather early," he said. It was barely 8 a.m. and never had Sarah been early to a lesson. He wondered why the change, and why Mariella looked like she was just dying to scream something at him.

"Yes, well...Mariella had something to show me," Sarah said from across the room. Yes, the place Mariella had dragged her to so freaking early was indeed the west drawing room, which was rather convenient, as that was where they had to meet Roldan anyway. It had taken her a minute to catch on though. Perhaps she was just groggy, but now that she was awake it made perfect sense. A drawing room would be an appropriate place for a painting.

Roldan scrunched his brow and looked over to Marie. He regretted the moment their eyes met.

"Oh Master Roldan, won't you come see too?!" she squealed, taking him by the arm and actually pulling him across the room. Sarah had to stifle a laugh. She'd never seen Marie _this_ excited and Roldan couldn't have looked more uncomfortable. They finally made it and she set him next to Sarah, and they both watched as his expression changed.

"W-what is this?" he asked. Sarah folded her arms.

"It's a painting. I told you Marie was posing, didn't I?" she asked. Roldan's brow rose high and he exhaled deeply.

"Yes, but...this was not what you were describing," he said. Marie giggled and skipped over to the canvas.

"I know. I changed the rules. I find I like this game much better. What do you think, Master Roldan? Is it not exquisite?"

Roldan took a deep breath and rose a hand to the back of his neck. Sarah eyed him curiously then. Was he...embarrassed?

"It is a fine rendering, yes," he said.

"I believe we should have one commissioned of Sarah as a gift for His Majesty. Don't you agree?" she asked. Sarah wasn't listening, as she was still observing Roldan being awkward, when he turned and glanced down at her. She didn't know why, but when their eyes met it seemed like some deep dark secret had been revealed. He quickly looked away and to Sarah it seemed like his jaw was tensed.

"I think that would be a grand idea," he said. Sarah turned away from him slowly. His arm was now obscuring her view of him and she had a feeling he was doing it on purpose. He wasn't blushing over there, was he?

"Marvelous. Well, now that we've got all that out of the way, why don't we get started?" Marie posed. Roldan lowered his arm and exhaled, his usual scowl returning.

"Yes...That would probably be best. There have been some changes to the ceremony that we need to go over," he said, turning to head back to the table they always sat at. Sarah drew her brow and followed. Changes?

"What do you mean, changes?" Sarah asked, taking her seat across from him as usual. Roldan sat, Mariella beside him, and began flipping through some papers.

"Well...do you remember how I said only the other council seats and their families would be in attendance?" he asked. Sarah nodded. "Well...it seems Jareth has opted for witness by proxy..." He trailed off then, distracted as he read over something. Sarah became confused.

"Huh? What does that mean?" she asked. Roldan flipped to the next page.

"It means that instead of having the actual kings and queens bear witness to your union, each kingdom will send a representative in their stead, probably some manner of soothsayer or thaumaturge," he explained. Sarah just stared.

"What the heck are those?" she asked. Roldan peered up, not expecting such a question.

"A royal...hm...how should I describe this to you...A crown appointed monk who tends the altar of the druid," he said. Sarah just kept staring.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," she said. Roldan sighed. It was then that Mariella jumped in.

"I believe I may be able to explain," she said and leaned a little over the table. "You see, I'm not sure what you would call an officiant in your world, but here we kneel before the Druids," she said, rolling her eyes as she thought over her words. "Marriages in our world...they are not merely contracts, they are magic, a literal bonding of souls. It is one of our most sacred acts and so must be performed by one who has been anointed by Nature. There are those who have dedicated their souls to Nature, who have in a sense become the facilitators of Nature itself. We call these beings Druids."

"So...like a priest you mean?" Sarah asked. Mariella shrugged.

"Priest? Is that what you call them? As yes, I believe I remember now...In a sense yes. However, druids are...unique. Take for example the unicorn. It is technically material, a living being, but in actuality it is merely a conduit for the forces of Nature. It is not real in the same sense that you and I are real. They are not _born_, they are simply thus. Pure magic. It is the same for druids. They are manifestations of Nature, however they have been given true consciousness, they are...in a way the link between the physical and spiritual realms, and it is believed they are meant to serve as our facilitators with the forces beyond. Some people believe they are closest things we have to gods. Because of this they are revered and worshipped."

"But are they gods?" Sarah interjected. Roldan rose a brow.

"No," he stated, in a manner that, to Sarah, seemed like it was a topic up for debate. "They are creatures, nothing more. It's merely out of ritual and respect that we continue to worship them, and only because it is a union of royalty that we must even oblige. The ceremony itself it quite primitive," he said. Sarah glanced over when she saw Mariella frown.

"Are you impious, Master Roldan?" Mariella asked, seemingly disappointed. Sarah looked back to him eagerly. This was all quite fascinating. She never really thought about the Fae having an actual structure to their religion. Did they have atheists too?

"It doesn't matter what I think," Roldan said. Mariella frowned harder.

"Oh dear, His Majesty too?"

Roldan shrugged.

"I can't speak to what Jareth believes in; but if I were to ask you, does he seem like the spiritual type?"

"Yes," Sarah said, impulsively. Both Mariella and Roldan looked over to her, and she started to knot her fingers under his scrutiny. "I think...well, he might not be religious per-say, but he definitely has faith," she explained. Roldan's eyes narrowed, as if offended she would dare imply she knew him better than he did. Sarah glanced down into her lap. "He takes customs very seriously. And when he showed me the castle grounds and explained things to me...I don't know, he just seemed very invested in what he was saying, whether it was the different ways Nature manifested or how his people worshipped. Heck, he actually got mad at me when I didn't want to take my shoes off in the garden," she said, rolling her eyes as she thought back to that day. Roldan continued to look more and more disgruntled.

"Oh, isn't that sweet!" Mariella burst out, clasping her hands and turning to Roldan. "See. Even His Majesty is not so cynical." They each waited for his retort but he only rolled his eyes dismissively. With a sense of victory, Mariella turned back to Sarah. "So, as I was saying. Every kingdom has a clergy dedicated to that nation's druid-"

"Is there only one per kingdom?" Sarah asked.

"Well, technically no. You see, druids don't acknowledge things like borders or nations, but they are few and far. When Orpia was originally split, it was taken into account that each new nation should have at least one druid within its borders, so the lines were marked accordingly. A very long time has passed since then however, and it is known that while certain druids have since left this world, others have in fact appeared in new places. We don't really know how or why, that's part of the mystery, but larger nations like Jeju and even the Goblin Kingdom were known to have several druids at one point in time."

"Huh. Interesting. So, back to these changes then," Sarah said, looking over to Roldan.

"Yes, now that that is out of the way...like I was originally saying, rather than the council seats presiding over the affair, each nation is sending an altar representative to summon the druid."

"Why did plans change?" Sarah asked. Roldan waved a flippant hand and flipped through his papers.

"Couldn't tell you. But, if I had to guess, I would say it has something to do with the impression you left at the party the other night."

Sarah became alarmed then. What?

"What do you mean impression? I thought I did well," she said. Roldan shrugged.

"You did. And that's precisely the problem."

Sarah's eyes grew wider and she turned defensive.

"What do you mean that's a problem?" she asked. Roldan sighed and leaned back in his chair.

"You did well, Sarah, there is no denying that. The problem is that you performed too well. It would have been better if the crowd had ignored you and forgotten all about you by daybreak. But they didn't-"

"They didn't? I don't get it, I thought I was supposed to make them like me!" She was trying not to raise her voice but she couldn't help it. Was there no way of winning anything in this place?

"You were supposed to not mess up. That's all. What you did instead was capture their attention."

"Capture their attention? Is that bad?" she asked. Roldan looked down, down at the papers cast before him and tapped a finger against the desk.

"Sometimes..." his voice trailed off, thinking over whether Jareth's decision had been just. Contained in his file were profiles on both Bezaleel and Maruna...both monarchs had taken a rather perverse interest in Sarah that night, and both were known for their rather insidious hands. It was probably wise of Jareth to not want them physically present at the wedding. Who knew what kind of mischief they might wreak. "To be honest, it's for your safety," he said. "If you were a Fae it might be different, but you're not and a private gathering of so many powerful beings could prove quiet dangerous for both you and Jareth. I think you'll be able to understand when I say that it's bad enough when a Fae finds you unfavorable, but it's even worse when they find you interesting."

Sarah eased back in her chair after that. Yes, she understood him perfectly. She looked down into her lap and frowned. She thought she'd done so well that night, she couldn't help but feel disappointed. Oh well, Jareth was already taking precautions and she had faith that he wouldn't let any of them harm her. She wasn't quite ready when Roldan started talking again.

"So aside from that, everything will be the same. Should we go over it again?" he asked. Sarah peered up.

"No, I remember. I read through all my notes last night," she said.

"And your readings? Have you been practicing them?"

"Yes," she said, with mild irritation. She couldn't stand it when he talked to her like that, like she was a little kid. She only had one reading after all, and it wasn't even long, just your typical "I take this man" kind of crap. But, truth be told, it wasn't even his patronizing tone that was getting to her so much as the conversation in general. All week she'd been trying to ignore it, ignore what it was she was preparing for. But, the more they talked about it, the closer it got, the harder it became to ignore. Her feelings on the matter...she wasn't ready to face them yet.

"Very good. There's just a few more things I'd like to go over and we should be done for the day..."

* * *

Sarah stared blankly out the window as she ate her lunch. It was barely noon and already lessons were done. She preferred it this way, but couldn't help but be skeptical. She had a feeling it wasn't Roldan's lesson plan that was thinning, but rather his interest in the matter. He couldn't even stick around to have lunch with them anymore, having bolted out the door even more quickly than she usually did.

It was nice having the peace and quiet though, as Marie was far too busy staring at her damn portrait to really talk at the moment.

"So, what do you plan to do with it?" Sarah asked. Mariella turned around and shrugged.

"I'm not sure. I think I'll send it back to my father."

"Really? How come?"

"I imagine it would come in handy should any would-be suitors arrive. With a portrait like this, I could have a husband in no-time," she said. Sarah lowered her fork down to the table.

"What? You want to get married?" she asked. Mariella gave her another shrug.

"Not particularly, but I've been a courtesan for about a hundred years now. I have two older brothers who are each wed. I'm the only one left." She glanced up at Sarah then and saw the worry on her face. "Oh, but don't worry Sarah! Because of my elder brothers, my marriage has been less of a priority and I intend to serve as your lady for as long as you'll have me," she said, with a smug little grin. Sarah scrunched her brow further.

"What? No. No, you shouldn't make such big life decisions based on me. I told you before, you can leave my service whenever you want," she said. Mariella's smile widened.

"But that's precisely why I want to stay," she said, which left Sarah a bit...taken back. Mariella glanced back down to her food however, preventing the mood from becoming too serious. "And besides...this place isn't so bad right? If I ever do marry, I don't see why I couldn't still live here."

Sarah eased up a little, relieved, though she couldn't understand why she had gotten so worked up in the first place. Was she actually afraid of Mariella leaving her? Or was it simply the idea of being alone again that frightened her?

"I...think that would be great, actually," she said, resuming her meal.

"I think I'll put it in storage for the meantime however," Mariella said. Sarah peered up.

"Yeah? Where exactly?" Mariella glanced towards the door and pointed with her fork.

"I was helping Master Roldan one day and came across a room," she said, then swallowed. "It was back when he was first preparing your I.D. book, you remember, the one with all the different council etchings? Anyway, we gathered them from this room -I believe it was a storage room. It had some other paintings all bundled up so I figured it could just go there."

Sarah drew her brow. A storage room? Filled with paintings? She'd never come across any storage room. Well, she never really went off searching for one either.

"Huh. Okay. Do you want me to help you? It looks kind of awkward to carry," Sarah asked. Mariella waved her off.

"Oh no, no I was going to have a servant carry it," she said, which made more sense. Sarah went back to eating. It was a little while before she spoke up again.

"Why do you think it's filled with paintings?" she randomly asked. Mariella quirked a brow.

"Hm, I never really wondered. There are a lot of them though."

"Don't you find that kind of strange? Seeing how I don't think I've seen a single portrait hanging in this entire castle?" she asked. It was definitely odd. There were paintings of course, but they were all landscapes, or battle scenes, animals or goblins. Never once had she seen a picture of a person hanging in these halls. Mariella narrowed her eyes as she thought.

"You know...You're right. I believe this is definitely cause for investigation," she said and patted her lips with her napkin. Sarah rose her brow when she then stood and offered out a hand. "Come, it's a sign from the gods. Master Roldan has dismissed us early so we must go snooping," she said, in a very serious manner that had Sarah laughing.

"Yeah? Alright, why not?" she said, taking Marie's hand as she stood from her seat.

* * *

"So this is the room?" Sarah asked, her eyes running up and down the door that stood before them. She stood with her hands on her hips and turned back to Marie.

"If I remember correctly," she said, wasting no time in pushing the old thing open. It took both her hands to open it, and, given the strength of the Fae, had Sarah wondering why this door was so damn heavy. They were in a wing of the castle Sarah didn't usually venture down, so she wasn't familiar with their surroundings. It made her curious though, as she wondered what other mysteries had yet to be discovered. Mariella had told her there were rooms here Roldan would frequent and could only gather this wing was something of an archive where royal documents were stored. She'd nodded but continued looking around. This hallway was dingier than the others. Low on upkeep. She wondered why.

There was a goblin standing behind them, larger than most, carefully hanging onto Mariella's painting. At one point, Sarah had asked why she didn't just hang it up in her room or something, Marie's response being that she wasn't _that_ conceited. Sarah kept her mouth shut on the matter, realizing it would be pointless to call her out on it.

Mariella entered the room first. It was dark, so Sarah couldn't see, but soon a number of torches blazed to life and a minor hue of gold light revealed their surroundings. The goblin deposited the painting on an empty easel and soon left.

"Geez, is this place dusty enough?" Sarah asked, shielding her mouth so she wouldn't cough. This place reminded her of an Oubliette, like it hadn't seen the light of day in centuries.

"Yes, it is a bit forgotten, isn't it?" Mariella asked, shaking off a cloth cover to drape over her canvas. Particles of dust spread through the air, glittering almost in the dim light. Sarah moved further in, fighting the urge to touch everything in sight. She moved through the room, carefully navigating poorly structured paths. There were racks and shelves and barrels filled with rolled canvases. Large frames loomed high, stacked upon one another, raised on easels, but each covered and packaged carefully. She began to finger through a rack, but it was simply too dim to see.

"Well, there's enough crap in here, that's for sure," she said, turning and squinting at the pitiful torches that lined the wall. "Say, can you make these any brighter Marie?" she asked.

"Oh! Of course. Forgive me, I forgot your eyesight is not as keen as mine. One moment," she said, and precisely one moment later did the lights start to brighten, until visibility became clear as day.

"Oh. Oh wow."

Sarah took a step back and she looked up, and up and up. Like the library, this room just kept stretching higher. Now that she could see, she was made aware that she could _not_ see the ceiling. Paintings hung salon-style, masked in beige fabric up into infinity. She lowered her gaze back to Marie, not sure how to proceed.

"Are you sure we should be in here?" she asked. By this point Marie had found a cord and was in the process of tying it around her painting.

"I don't see why not. This is your castle after all," she said. Sarah pursed her lips and continued pacing about.

"Why do you think these are in here? I mean...there's just so many," she said, slowly growing concerned. Did these painting once line the halls? When were they taken down and why? Was it ordered by Jareth?

"I'm not sure...perhaps we should open a few and investigate," Marie posed. Sarah turned a quirked a brow. It wasn't often Mariella dared to be naughty.

"Hm, where should we start?"

Mariella, now finished, moved to join her by her side.

"Well, the larger paintings will be more important. We could start with those?"

Sarah looked over to her and narrowed her eyes.

"You seem awfully eager for this," she said, with light suspicion. Mariella gaped, shocked, but Sarah's lingering stare said she wasn't falling for any of it. She sagged her shoulders then and glanced away as she smiled.

"There's just no hiding from you is there?" she asked and then sighed. "Yes, I suppose I am eager. I've actually been wanting to come back here for some time now. Can I tell you a secret? I have a rather insatiable urge to find a portrait of Lord Davion."

"Of Davion?" Sarah asked, surprised. Mariella nodded.

"Yes, a younger one perhaps. You see, I've only known him as he is now. Wouldn't it be so funny to see he and His Majesty as children?" she asked, her voice rising with delight. Sarah smiled too, slowly. She never thought of that. Jareth as a child? Could such a thing exist?

"Yeah, that would be something," Sarah said, finally starting to feel some of Mariella's excitement. "Let's start with that one," she added, pointing to a rather large frame resting off to the side. Mariella stepped forward and began to untie all the little knots. "Wouldn't you rather a goblin do that? Your hands will get dirty," she said, teasing mostly. Mariella looked down at her hands and then shrugged.

"I can always bathe afterwards. It's just dust after all," she said, much to Sarah's surprise.

"Here, I'll help-"

The cover came off quite easily, followed by a cloud of dust. It took a minute for the air to clear and for the girls to stop coughing.

"So who's this?" Sarah asked. It was a portrait of a man. No one she recognized, as if she had much reference to go on. He had dark brown hair and fair skin. He wore a heavy amount of furs and jewels, a display of his wealth no doubt, and held a decorated spear in his hand. She turned to Marie for any insight.

"Hm...I'm not sure. Though he does kind of resemble His Majesty Braxton, doesn't he?"

Sarah turned back and tilted her head. Now that Marie had said it, she did kind of see a resemblance...

"Perhaps it was his father?" Sarah asked. She really had no idea. Mariella hummed but she was just as unsure. Her fingers tapped rhythmically against her lips.

"Who can say? Oh well, on to the next?"

They went through a number of paintings together, but sadly neither Sarah nor Mariella knew enough to identity anyone for certain. Most of these paintings, Mariella said, were older than her, and Sarah was just plain useless.

There was one painting that Sarah had been waiting to get to however. It was somewhat smaller than the rest, but it stood out to her. It stood alone on its own easel, barricaded behind a cluster of sorts. She kept quiet about it, until finally they'd managed to carve a path through.

"I think we should open this one next," Sarah said. Marie stopped and glanced back, so small a painting hadn't caught her attention.

"Alright," she said and carefully removed the trappings.

The cloth tumbled gently as it fell from the canvas, and as the layers of dust cracked and dispersed, they both realized it was made of a very fine velvet. This seemed peculiar, especially given the portrait underneath.

Sarah was quiet for a moment; for some reason, she didn't expect what she saw. It was a woman. She was pale and thin. She had long black hair, the ends of which melted into the darkness of her dress and background. Her posture was stiff, forced. She couldn't make out her eye color, or much else for that matter. This painting was old, very old, and not well kept. Whatever had been placed around her had long since faded away, making her stand out and directing all attention to her mona lisa frown. Mariella stood quiet as well, and it seemed to both of them that it was something more than the chipped paint that made this woman look so incredibly lonely.

"Do you know who that is?" Sarah asked. Marie frowned and sighed a little.

"Yes. I believe I do."

Sarah peered over, her brow tightly drawn.

"Who is it?"

Mariella reached out, as if to caress the woman's cheek, but stopped half way.

"That would be...the late Queen Aleigha...His Majesty's mother."

Sarah's eyes widened and turned back to the painting. What? Jareth's mom?

"How do you know?" she asked. Marie was still frowning.

"I've seen portraits of her at Fort Fyrn, Lord Davion's castle. She...has a very recognizable face," she answered, her voice fading to nothing. Sarah's expression went slack, and again she turned back to face the painting in quiet repose. There was something uneasy about it. Something sad. The way she clutched her own hands, it was like she was...afraid.

"There's pictures of her up north?" Sarah asked. Mariella nodded.

"He has portraits of his father too, and a number of other family members. It's strange, I don't believe we've come across any of His Majesty's family until now. Perhaps they're kept further within."

"Really? Why do you think Jareth has them all locked up?" Sarah asked. Mariella shook her head.

"I can't say...although, I do understand."

"Understand?" she asked, then looked away.

Sarah frowned then. She knew both Jareth's parents had died, but she didn't know the details. She never thought to ask and, quite frankly, after Jareth's story about Aurelia she wasn't sure she wanted to know.

"What can you tell me about her?" she asked. Her eyes stayed on Aleigha's. They were deep, like pools. So deep you could drown in them. Mariella turned and leaned back against a desk.

"She was...a frail woman. Sickly. But...from what I've been told she was still very kind, and sweet. She loved her children very much."

"She looks sad...But more than that. Afraid even."

Mariella turned to her then.

"What makes you say that?" she asked. Sarah shrugged.

"Well, look at her posture, the way she's staring. It's like she's uncomfortable, uncomfortable to have someone looking at her so closely, you know? She's gripping her hands rather than resting them. Her expression...I don't know, it just seems like she doesn't want to be there."

"Hm...I suppose you could be right. According to Lord Davion, her life was not an easy one."

"No?" Sarah asked, and turned to look at her. Mariella shook her head.

"I've noticed...during Master Roldan's lessons...he seems to pick and choose what to tell you. It makes sense, the Goblin Kingdom's past isn't exactly the noblest, but at the same time..."

"The same time what?" Sarah asked. Mariella sighed and glanced away.

"I may be out of line right now, but it is no secret...just how terrible their father was."

Sarah's eyes narrowed on her.

"What do you mean, terrible?" she asked. Mariella shifted in her spot.

"Well, King Thaelon...was...to my understanding...quite tyrannical. He was vicious and...my father told me a real boor at court. He broke all manner of convention, terrorized his subordinates, bled the land dry. I believe there was even a point when the other kingdoms were considering cutting ties with him, and Aleigha..."

"He abused her?" Sarah asked, as if it wasn't obvious enough. Mariella glanced over then, her eyes widened, and nodded.

"Terribly."

"I see..."

Sarah's eyes lowered then, trying to imagine what it would have been like growing up with an abusive parent. While her own mother was estranged, the parents Sarah did have had always been loving and supportive. If Thaelon was as bad as Mariella was making him out to be, how must that have affected Jareth? Did he abuse them too? Was that why he was the way he was? Did the apple not fall far from the tree? And this portrait, was this the fate that might one day await her?

She realized then the gravity of Mariella's words and it made her wonder. Given the Underground's definition of discipline...what kinds of things did Thaelon have to do for even Mariella to consider it abuse?

"They hated him," Mareilla spoke up. Sarah pulled out of her daze.

"What?"

"His Majesty and Lord Davion...at least, that's what Lord Davion told me. Apparently His Majesty...despised him like nothing else. I imagine it must have been quite difficult. I wonder what kind of expectations they faced, being princes under such an appalling despot."

Sarah scrunched her brow then.

"I don't get it..."

"What?"

"If he hated him so much...how could he allow himself to follow in the same footsteps?" she asked. Mariella tilted her head.

"Sometimes it is not so easy to break from that which holds you down. You really think His Majesty has taken after Thaelon?" Marie asked. Sarah frowned harder and shrugged.

"He's abusive isn't he? Violent. Selfish."

"But he is a strong leader, an incredibly hard worker, not merely feared but also greatly loved by his subjects. He is highly respected amongst court and has managed to reverse all of the damage wrought by his father over what is considered a reasonably short reign...To be honest, I hear that after his father passed, His Majesty's coronation was viewed as a bright sunrise after the blackest of nights."

Sarah's frown began to form a scowl.

"So he's a well-functioning member of society. That doesn't mean he isn't his father's son," she said. The more she tried to picture Jareth's parents, the more they reminded her of themselves. She didn't like it. She wouldn't allow herself to become that. But what if she couldn't stop it? What would happen when they did have kids? Would the cycle just continue?

Mariella observed Sarah carefully until her expression softened with sympathy. She should have guessed where her thoughts would go, it was only natural. Now it was up to her to pull her from her funk.

"Perhaps..." she started and leaned up off the desk. "But we all have our demons. Perhaps His Majesty is simply fighting against his father's."

Sarah was quiet. She understood growing up in unfavorable circumstances, but he was still his own man. She wouldn't write off his indiscretions because of it. But maybe...maybe Mariella was right. Things had been getting better lately. Jareth was trying, he was different. Maybe he was fighting. As her eyes found those of Aleigha's, she found herself wishing neither one of them had to fight. At all.

"How did his father die?" she asked. Mariella moved to re-cover the painting.

"A hunting accident I think. He was poisoned."

"Poisoned? They couldn't heal him with magic?" Sarah asked. That seemed strange. Jareth could heal her so easily, she didn't understand.

"I guess not...There are creatures out there that produce toxins that are in fact immune to magic. Nature's way of keeping balance I suppose. The Fae can't be all powerful," she explained, patting the dust off the canvas cover. Sarah pursed her lips and began to pace.

"I see..." she said, then took a deep breath. "And his mother? How did she die?" She took a chance then. It seemed Jareth had quite the colorful past, a past she would have no idea even existed if it wasn't for Mariella and Davion's bedside manner. It made her think, really think. How well did she really know Jareth if she knew so little about him?

"She killed herself."

Sarah's head turned sharply but Mariella was staring at the floor.

"What?" she asked. Mariella had said she was sickly, Sarah had merely assumed...

"Yes. From what I understand it was...quite the tragedy. It took a great deal of time for Lord Davion to open up about it," she said. Sarah turned around and leaned back against the desk Mariella was once at.

"What happened?" she asked.

"From...what Davion said, it wasn't too long after Thaelon passed. He wouldn't tell me much, but I suppose...she just couldn't handle it anymore. With the death of her husband..."

"Of the man who abused her?" Sarah interjected. Mariella glanced over to her, her expression somewhat pitying.

"People's feelings are complex Sarah. We each react differently. It isn't for us to say. Perhaps...through it all, she still found a way to love him."

"Love him?" Again Sarah's voice seemed to be lined with outrage. Mariella let out a low exhale.

"Mhm...sometimes, if you can see the good in someone, if you can hang on to it, it will outweigh any amount of darkness," she said, trying her best to explain without setting Sarah off. Sarah was still young, still unaccustomed to many ways of the world or just how painful, irrational even, our own emotions could be. She should understand one thing however, that sometimes...you just didn't have a choice.

"I don't believe that. Not for one minute," Sarah said, shaking her head as she thought.

"Because you've seen darkness?"

"Because I've seen too much darkness. If I see any more I fear I might end up like her," she said, finally revealing the core of her worry. Mariella glanced back to the painting, covered up as if it had never been disturbed.

"Hm...perhaps that's it then," she mumbled.

"Perhaps what's it?"

"You two do look similar..."

Sarah peered up then. Their eyes locked and then Sarah's widened.

"What?"

"Your bone structure is certainly different...but your hair, your complexion, from a quick glance one might think you were related."

She spoke casually, a finger tapping against her lip as she pondered. Hm, the more she thought about it the more sense it made. Sarah's expression became abhorrent.

"What? WHOA. No. Don't you even."

Sarah stood and backed away, pointing a deadly finger in Mariella's direction. Mariella looked at her curiously, not sure why she was suddenly upset. Was it something she said? Sarah cocked her head and gave her a dangerous eye. She knew exactly what Mariella was about to say and she'd be damned if she stuck around to hear it.

"What? Why are you upset? Is it really so absurd to infer? His Majesty wouldn't be the first to have an Oedipus complex."

Sarah turned around and stuck her fingers in her ears, scrunching her eyes tightly closed as she exclaimed, "No, nonononono, no. Stop it right there. I will entertain this no further."

Mariella frowned and took a step towards her. She had said so herself how similar their situations were...why was she so offended?

"But-Sarah? What's the matter? It would explain a lot, wouldn't it?" she asked, raising her voice so Sarah would hear. Sarah stomped away and shook her head viciously from side to side.

"No. No more conspiracies. As if I could ever entertain let alone even _consider_ the idea that Jareth wants me because I'm like his mom!"

She was moving away from her now, deeper into the room. Marie reached out tentatively and followed after her.

"Sarah. Sarah come now. Stop that," she said, then scuttled along to catch up to her. "Is it really so upsetting? You've been getting along far better now, haven't you? Perhaps he truly does want to rectify _all_ of his father's mistakes." She really couldn't fathom what the big deal was. Wasn't she trying to understand him better? Hadn't she been wondering where his interest in her might have stemmed from? To Mariella, it all seemed rather romantic actually...Finally, she reached out and grasped her by the arm. "Sarah. Sarah, alright. Alright I'm done," she said. Sarah stopped and turned, lowering her hands from her ears.

"You promise?" she asked. Mariella clasped her hands together and bowed a little.

"Yes," she said. Sarah narrowed her eyes.

"Good. I don't want to hear you say that ever, ever again. It's gross," she said. Mariella furrowed her brow as she bowed. Why was it gross? she wondered. She stood as Sarah turned away and realized then that somehow she'd inadvertently lightened the mood. Sarah was shaking her head with a scowl but the doleful sag of her brow had left her. Apparently, creeping her out had stopped her from getting broody, as it was clear these were thoughts she wanted no part of. Mariella tilted her head as she watched her. There were times when she could be just as mercurial as His Majesty.

Sarah turned around and continued walking through the room. They were nearing the back now.

"You know...even if it isn't true," Mariella said, eager to get one more good word in before the subject dropped. "Lord Davion did tell me one thing...that His Majesty took their mother's death hard, and that things became very difficult afterwards. I think that would be reason enough to remove all the paintings," she said. Sarah stopped and looked around.

"...But all of them?"

"Well, think about it. Everyone in His Majesty's line, aside from his brother, has died. Perhaps it's simply too painful for him to see their faces."

Sarah rose her brow to that.

"I find that...hard to believe," she said, turning around in a circle as she tried to evade some pesky cobwebs. Mariella smiled softly, finding it a little funny but knew deep down she was just trying to distract herself from feeling sad.

"So how are things by the way?" Mariella asked, seeing an opportunity to change the subject to hopefully something less gloomy. "You were gone all night. Things go well?" She watched as Sarah struggled and reached out to help pull the bits of dust from her hair.

"He and Roldan were doing archery so I joined them. We had dinner afterwards," she said. Mariella quirked a brow.

"Oh? You say that so blandly. So things really are well? Shall I depart you early this night too?" she asked, teasingly. Sarah stopped then. She was facing away from her, but Marie caught a glimpse of a deep frown marring her face.

"Actually...I'm kind of avoiding him," she admitted and stopped to thumb through a few random canvases.

"Really? May I ask why?" She watched Sarah slouch against a shelf and tap her fingers impatiently. She was reluctant when speaking.

"Um...something kind of...happened yesterday," she said, hesitantly, then reached back and brushed her hair behind her ear. Mariella leaned in.

"What kind of something?" she asked. Sarah gave a gruff sigh.

"The confusing kind."

"Confusing?" Mariella asked. Her eyes glanced down to find Sarah's foot had started to tap.

"Yeah...I don't know...it's nothing really. Jareth just kind of...said something yesterday and I, uh, don't really know how to feel about it," she said, purposefully averting her eyes.

"Well what did he say?" Marie asked, the tension was starting to get to her.

"He...he said-" she started to say, then looked down as a thought played across her face. It was dark and worrisome. She bit her lip and looked up again, but just when Marie thought the secret would be revealed, did her eyes widen and she changed directions completely. "Hey, Marie, look at that frame over there."

Sarah leaned up off the cabinet and walked away. Mariella turned, her eyes viciously following after her.

"Sarah, what did he say?" She asked, practically begging at this point. But Sarah wasn't listening. No, she was busy b-lining it to the other side of the room. Mariella looked ahead and saw what had captured her attention.

Sarah stopped then, standing before them was another canvas, so tall she had to raise her head and lean back just to see it. It had to be...10, 12 feet high? It was huge, the cloth cover barely shrouding it. Parts of the frame stuck out, beautifully gilded and ornate.

"Look how tall this thing is. You said size signifies importance right? I wonder who this is," Sarah said, taking a few steps back. Mariella crossed her arms and pouted.

"Sarah, I think you're ignoring me," she said, a comment which Sarah promptly ignored.

"Marie- come here and help me lift this," she said, moving around the frame to figure out the easiest way to free it. Mariella sighed. It was obvious she was deflecting again, which only made her more curious. What did he say?! What did he say?!

Begrudgingly, she stepped forward and helped Sarah pull the cover down. The cloth that covered this painting was heavier than the rest and fell to the floor with a thud. The dust cloud this time was truly impressive. They both stepped back, Mariella waving her hand through the air to clear the haze.

"Sarah..." she said, determined not to let her weasel out of this; but when the dust cleared she saw her, standing perfectly still, her eyes wide and glued straight ahead. Mariella turned and her expression soon mirrored it. "Oh...oh my."

Mariella rose a hand to her chest and took a deep breath. This painting...she'd never seen something like this before. Never seen anything even remotely like it. She was about to express her awe when she looked to Sarah then and became concerned by the look of clear dismay that had rendered her as stiff as a plank.

It was another woman. The most beautiful woman Sarah had ever seen. Her skin was fair, her hands small and delicate, her heart-shaped face smiling at her so sweetly. Her dress was large, billowing and ruffled and gleamed with all sorts reflective light. Large bows and ties, gems and frilly trim adorned her. She sat in a gilded chair, thick red curtains draping behind her and a small cherubim floated off to the side. The amount of detail was mind-boggling, everything in perfect clarity, from the meager bits of embroidery lining her skirt to the faint beauty-mark that dotted the spot above her right brow. Whoever had created this was indeed a true master, and this their masterpiece. But it wasn't the quality of the painting that bewitched her. No. It was something else entirely. Her hair was long and fell in large curls. And it was blonde. It was golden. The color of the sun.

"My, what a beautiful woman," she heard Mariella say. Sarah looked over, but couldn't shake the awful sense of dread churning her stomach. Yes. Yes she was beautiful. Too beautiful.

"She's perfect," Sarah whispered, and Mariella turned to her after hearing the waver in her voice. Sarah took a deep breath then, and looked deep into her eyes. They were blue. As blue as the sky. This woman...she knew her. She was gentle, she was kind, she was beautiful, and although Sarah had never before laid eyes on her, she knew, without a doubt, that her name was Aurelia.

"...Sarah?" Mariella called, her expression turning wary as she watched her. Sarah was standing too still, trembling almost. And her face, she looked...devastated. "Do you know who this is, Sarah?" she asked. Sarah gulped and fisted her hands at her sides, then took a deep breath.

"Her name is Aurelia, and she was...Jareth's first wife."

Mariella's eyes widened and turned back to the painting. What?

"Aurelia? Are you positive? I-I've never heard of her. You say His Majesty has been married once before?" she asked. Sarah turned to her, her expression most confused.

"You mean you didn't know?" Sarah asked. Mariella gaped and shook her head.

"No...of all the things Lord Davion has told me, he never once mentioned His Majesty having a previous wife...Neither has anyone brought it up in court. I...I dare say I am caught off guard," she said, raising her hand to her lips as she looked over the painting. Well, this certainly was a surprise. And yet, Sarah already knew of it?

"She died," Sarah said, her gaze still locked on the pale beauty's face. "It was...bad. I imagine that's why Davion hasn't mentioned it."

"May I ask what happened?"

Sarah bit her lip.

"She...died during childbirth...they both did."

Mariella stifled a gasp and took half a step back.

"Oh my. How-How horrible," she said. Sarah looked down, deeply disconcerted.

"Yeah...You remember our talk about the statues in the garden?" she asked. Mariella nodded. Sarah looked up and pointed to the fat little cupid featured in the painting. "Well...she was the one who commissioned them. That's...why I got all weird when you were talking about it."

"Oh...I see. Forgive me then. I...I never suspected-"

"It's...It's okay. It's not exactly my burden to bear," she said and shook her head exasperatedly. Mariella worried her brow deeply. How horrible. She had no idea His Majesty had gone through so much. And Sarah...what did Sarah think of all this? It seemed the hits just kept on coming.

"May I ask...how long ago this happened?"

"A little over five-hundred years ago I think? Way before you were even born. Jareth- he told me...a condition upon taking the throne was to get married, so he married her. They weren't together very long...ten years I think he said." She was staring at the floor now. For some reason, this story always upset her deeply. It was strange to her. Jareth should be the one feeling this pain, not her. Mariella took a step back and sat on the edge of a desk. She looked more torn up than Sarah. Hm, maybe her feelings weren't that odd.

"I see...not long at all then. Perhaps that's why no one's mentioned it. It was but a blink. I doubt many people even remember her."

Mariella's words made Sarah frown harder. Yes, it was a long time but could she really be so forgotten? This room, it was like an Oubliette. It was a place to put people to forget about them. That's what this was wasn't it? A twisted memorial? Everyone in Jareth's life...everyone who was now gone. All that was left of them was in here, shrouded. She began to look around. There was more furniture and less paintings in this part of the room. They were dressers, not cabinets. Were they Aurelia's? Were these the last remnants of her existence? And what of Jareth? Did he even remember this was here? Mariella said Roldan used these rooms often, but these paintings hadn't been touched in ages.

"I...I don't know. Jareth doesn't really talk about it. Whenever I bring it up it...hasn't ended well," she said, which was true, but not for the reason Mariella might have guessed. Sarah would never admit it aloud, but a part of her was jealous of Aurelia. Jealous that she had known a side of Jareth she didn't, a side she never would. She wondered what he was like back then, if he was different. But even with this minor blemish upon her heart, what she wanted more was for Jareth to care. When she brought up their death the other day...she had purposefully instigated him. She regretted it yes, but she had wanted him to get angry, outraged even. She wanted him to show her he cared about what happened, that it had affected him. But all this new information, everything Mariella had told her about his parents...it seemed to change things. Was Jareth just...accustomed to misery? Was he numbed by it? Was that why he couldn't seem to grasp all the terror he'd inflicted upon her? While she told Marie she wouldn't write him off, she secretly wanted there to be a reason behind it. An event that broke him. Father like son wasn't good enough for her. If Jareth was fighting demons, she would help him. What she couldn't help is if he was the demon.

"Sarah? Are you alright?" Mariella asked. Sarah blinked, realizing she'd been zoning out and shook her head.

"Jareth told me he loves me yesterday," she said, out of the blue. Mariella gave another little gasp. Sarah turned to look her in the eye. "I don't know how to feel about it. There's...a lot that goes into it. I don't think I'm ready for Jareth to love me just yet...I don't know what that would mean about our relationship."

Mariella was quiet. She wasn't expecting Sarah to be so blunt.

"I think...that would mean you're making progress," she said. Sarah shrugged.

"Yeah...But it doesn't...feel right. You know...he told me about Aurelia once. He told me she was essentially perfect and that he never loved her. And now I see her right here before me..." Her voice trailed off and she glanced to the side. Mariella frowned at the sad smile that met her. "I have a hard time believing...if he couldn't love someone like her, someone like that-" she said, and pointed at the painting, "then how in the world could he possibly love me?"

"Sarah...you weren't there. You didn't know her, you didn't know him. His Majesty...was probably a very different person back then. Things change. You shouldn't devalue yourself."

"But that's the point isn't it? I don't know what he was like. Has he changed? Has he? Will he? Who is Jareth? How can I really know someone who has lived for so many lifetimes? Who has so many secrets? I keep telling myself that he's lying, that there's no way he couldn't have loved her. But why do I do that? I know why. And it's stupid. I keep telling myself that he must have loved her, that his heart was broken and it broke him. If he's loved before then he can love again and I hate myself for thinking that way, but now that he's actually said it I want to run away. I'm terrified. I want his love but I don't want him to love me. Does that make any sense? Or am I going crazy?" She growled and sagged as she finished her rant, her fingers gripping the rim of the dresser tightly on either side of her. Mariella sighed. She could have guessed what had been going on in Sarah's head, but this was the first time she was actually speaking honestly about it. She wouldn't tell Davion this. She couldn't. She hadn't known her long, but Sarah was already more than a friend to her. And after the pain she'd seen her in, she vowed she would betray her no longer.

With this conviction in mind, she stepped towards her and placed a hand on Sarah's shoulder.

"Sarah," she said, urging her to look up. "Are you sure you're not in love with him?"

Sarah paled for all but a second, and then deep worry turned her face away.

"To be completely honest? ...It's never been about whether or not I love him Marie. It's about whether or not he deserves it."

* * *

Sarah found it hard to open her eyes. It was bright out today. Too bright. The sound of birds chirping grated against her ears. Was it really morning already? Ugh...she had such a headache.

Groggily, she made her way out of bed. Her head felt heavy, and she lugged herself to the bathroom. Jareth wasn't there. She hadn't seen him yesterday either. She was glad for it though, she was still avoiding him. That would all end soon however. Today was dress fitting day, and Jareth had said so himself that he would in no way miss it.

She sighed heavily as she brushed the knots from her hair. Mariella would be showing up soon. She needed to hurry up and shower. Damn. She hated waking up this early.

Last night had been...odd. She'd had an unexpected heart to heart with Marie, and well, they'd ended up having a regular old girl's night. It was nice actually. She really felt like she could trust Marie, and it wasn't until she finally started to talk about it that she realized just how much this whole "I love you" issue was really bothering her.

They talked about a lot of things, about her insecurities with Jareth's past, about her skepticism about her own, about her trepidation when it came to contacting her friends. It was liberating to get it all off her chest. She hadn't felt at such ease since she'd spoken with Liana. And where was Liana? She'd been gone for so long now, it seemed like forever.

She sighed again as she draped her necklace over her head. She'd worn it every day since she'd remembered it. It felt like a part of her now. She closed her eyes, rose her hands to her forehead and pushed the skin back from her face, taking a deep breath as she tried her best to will away her headache. She wasn't too concerned about it however. A little breakfast would help.

She'd just finished dressing and was busy brewing her daily cup of tea when Mariella came. She knocked quietly, like she always did, and entered with a beaming smile. No doubt Marie knew what today was too, and there was just no stopping that kind of excitement. Roldan better watch out.

"Good morning!" she said, and Sarah winced. Too soon, she thought. Too much energy.

"I take it you're ready for today?" Sarah asked, playfully. Mariella joined by sitting in the seat beside her.

"But of course. I can't wait. You're going to look so beautiful."

Sarah smiled from behind her cup. Her endearments were always so genuine.

"Are you ready? To see His Majesty I mean?" she asked, with a more serious tone. Sarah closed her eyes and set down her cup.

"Yeah...I think it'll be fine. Like I said...I don't think he realized what he said, so everything should be peachy to him. I've had a day to sort it out...I think I'm over it now."

Mariella pursed her lips then and hummed. She couldn't say she liked hearing all the troubles Sarah had to share, but knowing them now helped her to better understand. It had taken her this long to open up about it, so that had to be a positive sign. She was showing trust in her, she was looking towards a future with Jareth. Those were all positive signs. There was something that worried her though. Something she didn't want to say. Sarah was concerned about Jareth loving her in the present...but Mariella was willing to bet His Majesty's affections began a lot earlier than that. After their conversation last night, she wasn't sure revealing such knowledge would be the best course of action. She was having a hard enough time accepting that he might love her now, what would she do if someone told her he'd loved her all along?

"Marie?" Sarah asked. Mariella blinked and looked up.

"Hm? Yes?"

"You've been staring at your toast for over a minute now. You okay?"

Mariella blinked again and smiled.

"Ah, yes. Just thinking about all the beautiful dresses I'll get to see you in," she said, her smile becoming weaker. Sarah didn't seem to notice and glanced away.

"I don't think I'm going to bring it up," she said. "I think I'm just going to pretend it never happened. No harm, no foul, right?" she asked. Mariella nodded. That was probably the best thing, given Sarah's indecisiveness.

"If that is what you feel is necessary," she said. Sarah nodded, finishing her tea and setting down the empty cup.

"I think so. Are you ready to go?"

"Lead the way."

* * *

Sarah was surprised to find the drawing room arranged much differently today. The table was gone, and everything was shoved out of the way, pushed against the wall. There were clothing racks stuffed with dresses and dress bags. Trunks, boxes and such were stacked and littered the open floor plan. There was a changing curtain off to the side, and in the middle of it all stood Roldan, waiting with his watch in hand. He looked up when they entered, right on time.

"So um...morning," Sarah said, gazing about the room with mild trepidation. It was a bit overwhelming actually. Roldan actually bowed his head to her before glancing away. Really? Sarah noted. He'd never done that before. Huh, he must be in a good mood or something.

"You're right on time," he said, watching Mariella as she quickly navigated towards the dress racks. "We just finished setting up."

Sarah crossed her arms in a nervous manner. This whole wedding thing was really starting to hit her now and not in a good way.

"Excuse me missy! Don't be touchin that!"

Sarah peered over, not expecting a third voice. It was a woman's. A goblin's actually. Mariella jumped back as a tiny old lady pushed through the dress skirts, huffing and puffing with reprimand.

"Oh! I'm so sorry, I didn't see you there," Marie exclaimed. The woman scowled and shook her head, hobbling her way over to Roldan and Sarah. She bowed once she stood before them. Sarah didn't really respond.

"Sarah, this is Talnah, the seamstress who will be constructing your gown," he said and Sarah's brow rose.

"Oh! A pleasure to meet you Talnah," Sarah said, fighting the instinctive urge to bow herself. Talnah straightened up, groaning when her back cracked and turned away, ushering them over with a wave of her hand.

"Come. Come. There is lot's tuhgo through," she said. Roldan stared down at her disapprovingly, but Sarah smiled. She reminded her of the crone from the junkyard all those years ago. She looked over to Roldan to find him shaking his head.

"She's quite rude, but also the best in the business. I find, when it comes to goblins at least, to just take it as it is," he explained. Sarah chuckled. He really was in a good mood, wasn't he? How refreshing.

Sarah stopped before the dress rack, shy it seemed. Talnah turned and waved her on impatiently.

"Come on, come on. They won't bite."

"Um..." she started, not really knowing what to do with herself. That's when Mariella found her cue.

"Allow me Sarah. I'll pick out a couple things first, and when you want you can start going through yourself," she said. Roldan eyed her silently but made no comment. Sarah waited patiently. "Let's see, let's see...mmm, how about we start with this," she said, and pulled something awfully frilly from the rack. Sarah's eyes widened.

"Um..."

Mariella glanced down and eyed the hanger she held.

"Actually...no. This might be a bit too much I think. Something simpler, then?"

Sarah sighed, relieved when Marie turned back around and gave it another shot. Fluffy was bad. She did not do fluffy.

"Are you doing alright?"

Sarah peered up, surprised Roldan had asked her such a question.

"Yeah, why?" she replied. Roldan's eyes narrowed.

"Not getting cold feet are we?" he asked. Sarah rolled her eyes.

"You kidding me? I've got frostbite up to my knees."

She'd looked away as she spoke, so she didn't catch him smile just then, she did however hear his laughter.

"Don't we all," he said. Sarah was about to turn and face him again when Marie was back with a brand new armful.

"Okay. This time I thought it best to go with some options. I tried to pick what is in style now throughout the different nations," she said, a bit out of breath from the weight of the gowns. Sarah bit her lip.

"Ah...then wouldn't it make more sense to wear something from Goblin Kingdom fashion?" she asked. Mariella blinked. She hadn't thought of that.

"That's...a rather smart idea actually. I'll put a few of these back." And then she was gone. Sarah chuckled to herself while she and Roldan watched.

"Perhaps you should help her. Try to get a little more involved," Roldan said. Sarah shrugged but continued to smile.

"No way. She's loving it right now, trust me." Roldan huffed but said nothing, knowing she was probably right.

When Mariella returned for the third time, she had a bit of a sheen to her forehead.

"Alright. How about some of these?" she suggested, hanging them all up in a row. Talnah scuttled over then, wordlessly smoothing them out so they could be displayed properly. Sarah began to wonder then, when exactly Jareth would be showing up.

"What do you think Roldan?" Sarah asked, looking up to him. He looked caught off guard, but quickly shrugged and looked ahead.

"I think any of these options is fine," he said. Sarah pouted.

"I was asking for an aesthetic opinion," she clarified. Again Roldan shrugged.

"I really don't care," he answered. Like him, Sarah crossed her arms over her chest. Though he was a bit more chipper this morning, Sarah had to remind herself that he was still Roldan and it was clear he felt he had far better things to do than this.

"Alright. I'll pick at random then. Let's go with that one," she said, pointing at the third one in. Mariella pulled it from the display rack and began carrying it towards the changing curtain.

"Come on, I'll help you try it on," she said, and that's when Sarah realized she actually had to change into it. Out here. In front of Roldan. Well, behind a perfectly opaque curtain, but still.

"Oh, um, okay," she said, skeptically skipping over to join her. Roldan rose a brow as he watched her and realized his eyes were still lingering even after she'd disappeared behind the curtain. He turned away with a glare.

"Alright, I'll hold it for you so you can step in. This one has laces so I'll tighten those for you once you're in," Mariella said. Sarah's brow deeply furrowed, feeling somewhat self-conscious as she shucked off her clothes. She changed quickly. A bit of shimmying and it was on. She kept her back straight and stood on her toes while Mariella tightened the laces, surprised to find that it already fit her pretty well. "So? What do you think?" Mariella asked. Sarah let out a slow exhale and tried shifting about.

"It's tight...but comfortable I guess."

"Would you like to see?" Marie asked, apparently there was also a mirror with her behind the curtain.

This dress was deceiving. It didn't look fluffy at first, but on her now she realized just how ballroom the skirt really was. It had a lot of tassels and stuff hanging from it, and there were rhinestones on the bodice, or maybe they were diamonds. She wasn't sophisticated enough to tell.

"This one seems...kind of gaudy, doesn't it?" she asked, turning from side to side as she inspected herself. Mariella nodded.

"I agree. Not nearly elegant enough."

"You having any problems back there?"

She heard Roldan calling from beyond the curtain and turned. Mariella, being far taller than her, stretched up on her tip toes so she could see him over the curtain.

"Nope! Just a dud! Won't bother showing you. On to the next!" she said, which had Sarah rolling her eyes. "Just so you know, this is also popular in Erastor right now, but I don't really like it either," she whispered.

Once the dress was finally removed, Sarah decided it would be easier to just stay behind the wall and let Marie bring her whatever her heart desired. She was trying to stay as detached from this whole experience as possible and didn't want to bother getting invested in anything. This wasn't merely a wedding dress. It was to be the symbol of her permanent entrapment. The less she thought about it, the better.

Marie returned quickly, with something Sarah hoped would be a bit less flashy.

"Here, this one has a lot of complicated ties. It might be a hassle to figure out."

And she wasn't kidding. This one was indeed far different from the last, but Sarah soon realized that didn't make it any better. Actually, it was worse. Far worse. It was thin, made of only a few layers of silk and clung to her body just barely. The top spun into intricate braids that formed thin straps that then criss-crossed, weaving with others to form a rather complex pattern down an open back. The rest was rather plain, a simple cut. What bothered her was the way it hung, exposing a bit more of her flesh than she was comfortable with. Good thing she was full chested or there may have been a problem, but even still. This looked more like a negligée than a wedding gown. It was short in the front, exposing her thighs, and drifted to only about her knee in the back. Mariella assured her this was perfectly appropriate. In fact, it was preferred in warmer climates like the Goblin Kingdom.

"Do you plan on coming out? Or is my presence here completely pointless?" Roldan called again. Sarah made a very uneasy expression. There was no way she was going to let Roldan see her dressed in something like this.

"Coming!"

Sarah turned to Mariella with a glare, resisting the tug on the arm she then gave.

"Hey- I don't know about this. I don't really like it. Can we try something else?" she asked. Mariella waved her off.

"Oh, don't be silly. This dress suits you far better than the other one, and besides Master Roldan is waiting so patiently. I thought you wanted his opinion?" she said, trying again to pull her out from behind the curtain. Sarah dug her heels.

"I highly doubt Roldan actually has any interest in seeing me," she said. Mariella turned then and shot her a naughty eye.

"Feeling self-conscious are we? Master Roldan is still a male, I'm sure he can help perk up some pride in you," she said and with a surprise tug, yanked Sarah out from behind the curtain and into the light of day.

"Ah, damn it Marie!"

Roldan looked up at the sound of distress just as Mariella had come around the corner. It was hard to ignore. He was impatient as it was and ungodly bored. He didn't know why Jareth insisted he be here for this._Make sure she is dressed appropriately_, he said. Please, as if Mariella couldn't take care of that herself. No, Jareth was probably punishing him again, but for what he didn't know. It didn't matter in the end. He was here, listening as those two girls giggled and fussed behind the curtain. He'd tried his best from looking over. He knew there was nothing to see anyway, as if he was even interested in the thought of Sarah undressing. However, he was still a man, and every moment or two a giggle would pass his ears and the flicker of a shadow would cross his peripheral and he simply couldn't help himself.

Mariella had just come around the corner and not soon after a very startled and embarrassed looking Sarah followed her.

It was more than a glimpse this time. This time, he couldn't look away. For a moment, just one, one shameful disgusting moment, he found himself immobile. He felt his breath hitch and his heart- by gods had it actually skipped a beat? He took a deep breath and blinked furiously, clearing his throat roughly and pretending the reddening of his face was a result of the cough.

He'd been caught off guard. He hadn't expected her to look so...beautiful. But more than that, he hadn't expected himself to regard her as such. She stumbled out, her first glance going directly to him and her cheeks immediately enflamed. Her eyes went wide and she straightened up, standing awkwardly yet tall as she darted her eyes away. She turned in an effort to conceal herself, but only revealed the dramatic plummet of her back-line. He felt his ears tense and his jaw locked. The way the silk clung to her frame was... Mariella stood giggling off to the side, but he could do nothing but ignore her. Sarah turned again, and he realized far too late that Mariella was in fact walking her towards him.

He furrowed his brow deeply and angled himself way, unable to believe he'd had such a visceral reaction to her. He tried to play it off but his eyes betrayed him. They couldn't help it. They were glued to her, from her rosy cheeks all the way to her squirming toes.

"Well… What do you think Master Roldan? Is this dress a keeper or what?" Mariella asked, absolutely loving the moment. Sarah was too embarrassed to notice but Mariella could see Roldan's reaction plain as day. My, Master Roldan, what a hypocrite he was.

He opened his mouth to speak but gulped the words back down instead. Sarah kept her eyes lowered from him and tried her best to distract herself by smoothing out any wrinkles in the silk. She shouldn't have done that. Now his eyes were on her chest.

"I...don't know about this...it's kind of...revealing," she said, then finally gave in to look up to him. Their eyes met, and it was clear she was pleading for him to agree, to tell her it was too inappropriate and to take it off immediately. He said none of this however. He just stared.

"You...you look-"

"Absolutely stunning."

Roldan nearly jumped out of his skin when he felt a hand at his shoulder and turned fractionally to find Jareth looming over him. He'd finished his sentence for him, thank the gods, but the panic only increased. He took a heavy breath and looked away, screaming at himself to get his fucking heartbeat under control.

Sarah paled, her eyes going wide with surprise. She wasn't expecting him to pop up just then. She needed time to mentally prepare. Why couldn't he just use the door?

She took half a step back when he stepped around Roldan, who looked plain terrified himself. Mariella, knowing more now than ever, pursed her lips and stepped aside.

She stood stock still as Jareth approached her, his smile wide and his eyes roaming all over her. He reached out and ran a gentle hand down her side, then pulled forward one of her hands and bowed as he kissed it.

"You look unbelievably breathtaking," he said, softly, and she could feel her pulse start to quicken. He straightened and turned back to Roldan then, his smile a proud one. "Doesn't she, Roldan?" he asked. Roldan darted his eyes away and cleared his throat again. This was not the time to lose composure.

"Yes...she looks -you look- lovely. Truly," he said, that being the first real compliment he'd ever given her. Sarah's eyes widened as her brow furrowed, as if just now realizing she wasn't the only one flustered.

"Seems I made it just in time," Jareth said, a gloved hand toying with a tendril of her hair. She tore her eyes from Roldan and brought them back to Jareth nervously. There were a lot of emotions in her head right now, but to Jareth it was all so simple. She tried to hold on to that, play off his ignorance and just roll with it.

"I wasn't sure you were coming," she said, her voice uneasy. Jareth smiled again, his gaze completely lost on her figure. His hand moved lower and splayed around her hip.

"I told you I would make it. I missed you quite dearly," he said, sweet and seductive-like. Her eyes darted to Roldan again, conscious of their surroundings. He was still watching her, though trying his best not to.

"Well...here I am," she said, not knowing what else to do. It was awkward with so many people watching. Why couldn't he have walked in when she was wearing the poofy dress?

"So is this the one?" he asked, inspecting her closely. He seemed excited -obviously. She tried not to recoil.

"Um...no. I've only tried on a couple...and I think this one is a bit too...risqué," she said, glancing away in shame. Jareth's grip on her hip tightened.

"I see...Leave us," he commanded, his voice deeper, more stern. Sarah peered around with a furrowed brow, an expression which matched Roldan's perfectly as their eyes met yet again. Jareth glanced back just slightly, just enough for Roldan to see the sharpness of his eyes. "Now," he said, and with that Roldan looked away. He hesitated for a moment, but Jareth's dark glare soon had him on his way. He wasn't the only one feeling hesitant, though. Mariella paused, waiting for a signal from Sarah before she left to join him. Sarah looked over and nodded subtly, and she too, along with Talnah the goblin, was quickly out the door.

  



	114. Oubliettes, part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While unbeknown to her, Sarah has succeeded in obtaining the one thing the Goblin King has desired for hundreds of years -power over the Labyrinth. After being hidden for years from his diabolical wrath, Sarah finds herself alone and vulnerable as Jareth's dark desires are finally aloud to rear their ugly heads. As always, the only question is, are things really as they seem?

The rumble of the door closing shut put Sarah on edge, causing her to stand on pins and needles as Jareth continued to inspect her.

"I think you should choose this one," he said, his hands getting a little more greedy now that they were alone. Sarah tried to pull away.

"Well, now I can't. Haven't you heard? It's bad luck to see the bride in her wedding dress before the ceremony," she said, trying her best to stave his hands. It was bad enough he had to go all alpha male and order everyone out. It was embarrassing, knowing what they must all be thinking as they waited patiently in the hall. She was too distracted to register Jareth bending down or reaching around her legs to lift her up and set her around his hips.

"I told you, I don't believe in luck," he said, and she gasped. Her legs constricted tightly around him, her arms instinctively going around his neck.

"Well, there's no point in wearing it anyway, if you're just going to sully it now," she said, her hands sneakily stroking the back of his hair. Jareth smiled and let his hands move to support her rear.

"I like the way you think," he said, jokingly, and took a step forward. Sarah looked around, curious to where he was going.

"Did you have to send everybody out like that? You know what they must be thinking, Roldan especially..."

"And what is that?" Jareth asked, kneeling down to set her atop one of the large trunks. He remained kneeling, his arms held possessively around her.

"That we're doing something dirty," she said, as dryly as she could. Jareth laughed and his smile curled on one side.

"And why would Roldan think that especially?" he asked, teasingly. Sarah looked away.

"Because he already thinks I'm a vulgar little...what's the term he uses? Hellion? I'm sure he's going to give me one hell of a lecture afterwards, blaming me as usual for actions that are completely your own," she said, eyeing him impatiently when he only became more amused.

"I don't think any of them will have anything to say, especially Roldan," he said.

"What?" she asked. It was strange, she was so worried about seeing him after her meltdown with Marie, but right now just felt so...natural. Maybe she could just ignore it.

Jareth withdrew his hands and brought them to her thighs, running them up and down her legs as he leaned in and took a deep breath in her bosom.

"Really? You honestly didn't notice? Hm, interesting," he said, running his nose along the silk covering her breast and moving up until he could kiss what was exposed. She couldn't stop the flare of heat that hit her.

"Notice? Notice what?" she asked, trying her best to pull him from her cleavage and actually talk to him. Jareth smiled again, this time it was mildly agitated and he shook his head.

"Oh nothing..."

"Huh?"

She was staring down at him, but his gaze was caught on her thighs, on the way the silk of her skirt moved higher and higher with each undulation of his hands.

"You're talking too much," he said, closing his eyes as he leaned down and kissed the inside of her thigh. She gulped and her legs spread. He kissed her again, higher and higher. She took a sharp breath and held it; his lips were so close, she could feel herself growing hot already. She saw him smile against her skin, keeping her in dreadful anticipation. "Quite frankly Sarah...I can't imagine a single man who wouldn't completely ravage you given the chance." His breath was hot against her sex, his tongue running along her femoral artery. She shifted away from it but he held her legs in place.

"I'm sure I could name...a few," Sarah said, leaning her head back when his tongue touched her again.

"It wouldn't matter. You'd have the right, you know. One day. You could take any man. Even Roldan if you so wanted. I don't think he would be as opposed as he pretends to be," he said, his voice muffled from under her skirt. His tongue had started to dip past her underwear and she gripped the edge of the trunk tighter.

"Wha? No-I don't...see him that way...and I told you...I...respect...monogamy," she said, her breathing becoming a bit strained. This was far from appropriate. The longer they stayed like this, the more embarrassed she would be when they eventually came back in.

"So you say," Jareth said and plunged his tongue inside her. She moaned softly and opened up to it. He pressed his face closer, his hands gripping her thighs tightly.

"I thought you said we were talking too much? What's the matter? Getting worried? The big day is...right around...the corner. Wouldn't want you getting cold feet...or anything," she said, starting to pant. She leaned her head back further and closed her eyes. Jareth pulled back slightly, enough to peer up at her.

"Are you kidding? I've got frostbite up to my knees."

He winked at her and her look of impassion twisted into a scowl. She scooted away from him as best she could.

"Whoa. Were you spying on me?" she asked, angrily. She tried to pull her legs away from him but an open hand on her knee was enough to pull them back down.

"Only a little," he said, teasingly. She kept up her tough facade but in actuality she became quite worried then. She always knew Jareth could, and did, spy on her but she'd forgotten about it recently. If he was still watching her, did he know about what she found in the storage room yesterday? ...He seemed normal enough.

"And how often do you do this exactly?" she asked. She gave up on struggling now and resigned to just sit there. She felt his hands start to snake under her skirt again.

"Only when I'm lonely," he answered, cheekily. Sarah drew her brow on him, much more invested in the conversation than he was.

"Could you not?" she asked, reaching out and grasping his wrists, impeding their journey upward. Jareth smiled wryly and tilted his head, one brow rising as he responded.

"I could...not," he said, bringing his eyes back to hers and finding such amusement in her annoyance.

"Okay, will you? Not?" she clarified. Jareth looked away and shrugged, pushing past the weak hold she had on his hands and their intention to explore further.

"...Probably...not," he said and failed to hold back the smile. Sarah sighed roughly and tried to push him away.

"That isn't funny Jareth," she said, stomping away from him when he actually let her go. He turned and stood with her, quickly reaching out and yanking her back. His arms constricted around her waist, holding her too close for comfort, and she struggled against it with mild aggravation.

"Why? Were you planning on doing something naughty?" he asked, nipping on her ear as he spoke. Sarah growled and pushed against his hands but it was no use. He lifted her up a bit until she could barely stand on her toes.

"No," she said, roughly and turned back to glare at him. Their eyes met only a few inches apart and her nose brushed against his. She took in a sharp breath, but thankfully it went unnoticed.

His eyes, so bright and smoky, narrowed on hers deviously.

"Or maybe...you've already done something naughty," he said, his voice a low drawl. Sarah's eyes widened but she forced herself not to appear any more guilty. If he found out what she had been snooping through yesterday it was sure to ruin the mood. She snarled a bit and tried to evade his hold again.

"I have done nothing of the sort," she said, flailing her feet as they no longer found support on the ground. "If anything...I think you're the one...who's being...naughty," she said, her jaw tensed as she squirmed.

"You haven't seen me naughty," Jareth said, laughing as he carried her away.

"Oh I think I have," she retorted, leaning forward in an attempt to knock him off balance.

"Alright then. What do you plan to do about it?" he asked, suggestively. Sarah growled again.

"I don't know. Take a note out of your book and punish you."

Jareth stopped then. She wasn't sure where he was going in the first place, but he stopped. She continued to squirm, and was surprised when he set her down effortlessly. She turned to face him and began viciously smoothing out her dress, a huge wrinkle marred the spot where his arms held her.

"What? Are we there already?" she asked, sarcastically. Jareth didn't say anything so she looked up to him. His expression was...curious.

"You intend to punish me?" he asked. Sarah's brow rose.

"What? No. No, I...I was just saying..." Actually, what was she saying? Why the hell did she say that? It's wasn't like she was being serious. She grew concerned then, there was a brightness to his eyes that shouldn't have been there.

"So...you do plan on doing something naughty," he said, and a large smile spread across his face. Sarah backed away and rose her hands between them.

"No. No. Don't go making assumptions. I was just being sarcastic," she explained, but knew deep down that her bed had already been made.

Jareth took a step forward but then paused, some knew scheme playing across his face.

"You should know by now how powerful words can be Sarah. You should think things through before saying them," he said and took another step forward. Sarah retreated and then glanced towards the door.

"Um-Um-Hey! You guys can come back in now!" she hollered. Jareth's dastardly smile turned into a glare but she returned it with a grin. _There. How's that for thinking things through?_ She looked over to the door then, desperately. There was a pause but then it opened. Jareth ceased his encroaching and glanced over his shoulder, sighed, then turned back to Sarah once they started reentering the room. Her eyes were wide and her breathing just a little bit frantic. He debated whether or not to simply reorder them out of the room again, but then a small grin curled his lips.

"You realize now...I'll have to retaliate," he said, dangerously. Sarah pursed her lips.

"Don't you have work to get back to?" she asked, eyeing Marie as the band gradually joined them. They looked awkward. She could sympathize with them there. Jareth stifled a chuckle then reluctantly turned away from her, the prospect of round two starting to excite him.

"Hmph...If that is your wish," he said and then paused before walking away. His smile left him and a thought played across his face. He glanced back just slightly. "Those flowers," he added and she drew her brow on him. "The ones you keep in the box in your room. You should wear them...in your hair perhaps. I think that would look lovely." His eyes flickered up to hers just briefly and he looked almost nervous before dismissing whatever strange thought he'd had and started to walk away again, just like that. So mercurial...she thought, her look of apprehension softening. He was surprised when she called out to him.

"Um, Jareth?" she asked. He turned.

Her eyes darted to the floor then and she pressed her knees together. She hadn't expected his tone to be so...winsome, or herself to be so charmed by it. He began to raise a brow.

"You should come by my room tonight," she said, then rose her gaze to meet his. "You can retaliate in there."

Jareth's brow rose with surprise and he cracked a rather incredulous smirk. Was he hearing her correctly? What was that look she was giving him? Was it by chance actual bashfulness? He thought she didn't want him, though it seemed she simply didn't want him _in here_. He shook his head then. Unbelievable. This woman. He stepped towards her and was about to say something when the rest of the gang appeared.

"Would you look at this!"

Sarah and Jareth both looked down, the mood shattered, just as a very unhappy looking Talnah staggered her way between them. She started huffing and puffing, ignoring Jareth completely and began pulling at the ends of Sarah's dress.

"All me hard work, an' for what? Look at the mess yee've made! This is Parlnese silk!" the goblin exclaimed, throwing her hands up in the air and shaking her head. Sarah teetered back, feeling a little bit guilty. Jareth cleared his throat and the goblin looked up. "Oh, sorry Majesty. I didn't see's ya there. Good mornin'," she said, politely bowing and then turning away once more. Jareth rolled his eyes. If she wasn't the best seamstress he knew of he would have given her quite a reprimand. She was an old woman however, and had served the crown since he was a boy. He remembered her speaking the same way back then too. Perhaps that was why he gave her a bit of a bias.

He looked up to find Sarah firmly distracted and so turned as if to leave. He stopped when he saw Roldan however, like a good little dog standing a few feet away. He walked closer to him and met him in the eye.

"So, have I made my point?" he asked. Roldan scowled but stood straight.

"A point you had no need in making," he replied, his arms tightly crossed over his chest. Jareth's eyes lowered and he smiled.

"Oh, why do I find that doubtful?" he asked, mockingly. Roldan scowled harder and looked away. He knew that he'd been found and that there was no way out of it. Damn it, he was probably watching him the whole time. It wasn't often Jareth treated him like this, if ever, actually. He was marking his territory again. How tiresome. "I say, I believe you had the same expression as last time. So typical. You always were a sucker for women in white," Jareth continued, with a false laugh. Roldan scowled further.

"What can I say? White is my favorite color," he responded, dryly. He glanced away then, trying his best not to grumble. Jareth's sly gaze peered to him and he smiled wickedly.

"No it isn't."

Roldan turned around sharply and glared.

"Alright. Fine. Your bride is very beautiful. You caught me in a gander. Are you satisfied?" he asked, his voice raising against his will. Jareth's smile broadened. He was so much fun to tease, especially when it actually mattered.

"Yes," Jareth said, smugly, and crossed his arms over his chest.

"I suppose you've had this in the works for quite some time now. You're really quite obnoxious sometimes, you know that?" Roldan asked, turning away to hide the flush that was steadily building in his cheeks. Jareth started laughing then.

"Haha my gods, are you actually embarrassed? How hard _do you_ flog yourself at night?" he asked, an accusation that got an immediate rise out of Roldan.

"What?" he asked, his tone escalating from annoyed to outraged. His glare only intensified as Jareth continued to chuckle.

"My, my, do watch your temper. Have I hit too close to the mark?" he asked, holding Roldan's gaze in confidence until the shameful Fae was forced to look away. This was ridiculous, Roldan thought. He was just plain ridiculing him now. He crossed his arms tighter and clenched his jaw.

"Please. You insult me," he said, petulantly.

"Yes, I do."

Roldan glanced back at such a simple response, though his gaze was precisely what Jareth was waiting for.

"And now that you've finally admitted that Sarah isn't _all bad_, I don't want to hear a single complaint from you on the matter ever again," he said, the playfulness leaving his voice and his gaze taking on a familiar sharpness. Roldan's brow furrowed, but Jareth continued on before he could respond. "As we've just established, I see the way you look at her. I also know that denial is your breakfast, lunch and dinner." Roldan's chest puffed up in protest, but Jareth wasn't finished yet. "Oh, but don't get me wrong. I don't give a damn about the way you look at her," he continued, waving a dismissive hand through the air. "In fact, you have my blessing to carry on. Flog yourself to your heart's content. My only demand is that you stop lying about it, or at the very least, stop wasting your breath and my patience while you try to cover up the matter."

The amount of disgruntlement on Roldan's face was reaching new heights, but they'd come well past the point of embarrassment; he might as well save some dignity and simply move on from it.

"Fine," he said, and sighed roughly. "I'll cease my nagging."

Again, Jareth stifled a chuckle.

"Are you sure?" he asked, raising a naughty brow. "Or should I have let you watch what I did to her while you were standing in the hall?"

This time Roldan didn't even bother with a glare. He just narrowed his eyes.

"You're despicable," he said, standing stiff when Jareth then reached out and shoved him with his elbow. His laugh had become nefarious when he muttered,

"Don't forget it."

He turned away then, his smile quite menacing as he casually left the room.

* * *

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I swear the wrinkles will come out. I promise you."

Sarah begged and pleaded with the lady, trying to do whatever she could to get her to just calm down. She looked to Mariella, but she wasn't much help. She just kept staring over at Jareth and Roldan with a very perplexed expression on her face.

"Oh they better little missy! This material here is some'uh the finest in the world, and you've gone an' near ruined it with your shenanigans."

Sarah nearly gasped.

"Ha? Shenanigans? There were no shenanigans, I promise you! Why don't I go take this off and give it back to you? I'm sure with enough steam it'll be good as new," she said. Talnah grumbled but soon fell silent and scowled, narrowing her eyes on the girl that would soon be her queen, and then sighed begrudgingly.

"Fine. Fine. Yes, yes, do take it off," she said, ushering her away with her hands until Sarah found herself scooting towards the curtain.

"Hey, uh, Marie? Could probly use your help!" she called. Marie twitched and then looked over, her look of confusion immediately replaced with a smile. Sarah grew suspicious, then. She knew that type of reaction and looked over to where Roldan and Jareth were talking. To her surprise, Jareth had left, but now Roldan stood alone -looking grumpier than ever. Great.

"Oh, forgive me Sarah, I must have been a bit dazed," Marie said, quickly joining her side. Sarah narrowed her eyes and whispered to her.

"What's going on?" she asked. "Were they arguing or something?"

Mariella replied with a worrisome look, hesitating as she nibbled her lip.

"Ah...A minor head-butt...nothing you should concern yourself with," she said, reassuringly. Sarah remained skeptical but soon let the issue go.

"Oh...kay... You sure?" she asked, raising her arms so Marie could pull the gown up and over her head. Jareth had mentioned something odd to her...about Roldan? Marie bit her lip again, but Sarah could no longer see her expression.

"Yes. No need to fret. Just a bit of testosterone I would say," she said. Sarah nodded. They bickered often and Jareth did love to tease him, but she couldn't shake the feeling that she was missing something. "So, which dress would you like to try on next?" Marie asked. Sarah looked over herself in the mirror and let out a long breath. No point in fretting about it now. It was probably nothing.

"I'd have to say, definitely something...conservative."

* * *

It was relatively late by the time Sarah got in, around 8 o'clock. After Jareth had left, it took about another hour to decide on a dress. It was kind of awkward actually. Roldan, who was once in such a fine mood, couldn't even bring himself to look at her. She felt bad. What Jareth had said...she tried to think over it but in the moment she really wasn't listening. She thought Jareth just meant to pick on him, but from the way he glowered off in the corner, it seemed like some real sparks had been stirred.

She went over to him once, told him that if he really didn't want to be there then he could go. There was no reason to keep him. He looked at her then, but strangely directed none of his gloom at her. So...he was mad, but it wasn't about her? She found this somewhat alarming and almost asked him what was going on. She didn't however. She was too intimidated.

Even with her permission, Roldan still didn't leave. While he never rejoined them, he took a seat off to the side and watched silently. Now that was out of character. Whatever Jareth said must have really put him off his game. But, eventually, a decision was finally made, measurements were taken, the room was cleared, parties dispersed, and Sarah gave a huge sigh of relief to finally be out of that clusterfuck of a room.

As usual, she spent the rest of the day with Marie. She wanted to keep herself as busy as possible with no more thoughts of weddings or anything even remotely related to them. It helped not to think about it too seriously. She might end up backing out if she did and she knew that really wasn't the best thing for her. She took Marie to a game room, knowing that time passed quicker there.

But now the sun was starting to set. Now she was on her own.

She entered her room and took off her shoes, debating whether or not to slip right in to her pajamas. That's when she remembered she'd told Jareth to come. She'd never done that before. It felt brazen. Naughty. She smiled as she toyed with that word. He had been so playful, how could she worry when he smiled like that?

Shaking her head, she paced towards the seating area and the fire kicked on. She moved around to sit on the couch and gave a little jolt when she saw it was already occupied.

She stared at him for a moment, wary. He didn't look up however, looking completely emotionless as he gazed into a crystal.

"Hey," she said, joining him on the couch as casually as possible. She sat on the far end however. Old habit. He didn't respond, merely turning his crystal as he gazed. "You okay?" she asked. He twitched then and lowered the crystal into his lap.

"Peachy," he said, and Sarah frowned at how ornery he sounded. In an effort to break the ice, she scooted towards him playfully.

"What were you looking at?" she asked. "Spying again?" Her smile was impish, but Jareth hadn't bothered looking up to see it. His brow furrowed and he sent the crystal away.

"Something like that..."

Sarah frowned. She had expected him to be a bit more enthused; but she wasn't about to let him bring her down. _Simple distractions_, she told herself. Hm, maybe she'd take a cue from the other day and come to him.

She surprised him by suddenly moving in and straddling his lap. He sat up a little straighter and rose his brow at her.

"You know, I was expecting firm retaliation here, but it's no fun if you're gonna be grumpy," she said, smiling cheerfully. Ok, she was really going out on a limb here. If he didn't look at her soon she was probably going to slap him.

Jareth smiled slightly and huffed through his nose.

"No fun, eh? Forgive me, the last thing I want is to bore you," he said, and looked up to her with a more lighthearted expression. Sarah narrowed her eyes. That still wasn't good enough. She reached out and placed her hands on the lapels of his jacket.

"Yes. That would be bad," she said, something in her voice seeming to test him. He held her gaze and leaned his head back, taking a deep breath as he reached up and undid a tie at the front of her dress. She held her breath when his fingers then moved along her neckline.

"In that case, perhaps I _should_ be punished," he said, his expression listless as his hand gently pulled at her right sleeve, exposing her bare shoulder. She recoiled slightly, from the cold air if nothing else, but his hand stayed on her arm, gripping her firmly as it moved down to her elbow, his eyes following. She could feel her dress being tugged all the while, an enticing amount of her bosom now exposed. She gripped his jacket a little tighter.

"Do you want me to punish you?" she asked, not sure if it was fear or excitement that lined her voice. Jareth cracked another smirk and tilted his head, watching absently as his other hand then moved to tug at her left sleeve.

"You already do," he said, pulling at her sleeve harder than before. She flinched a little from the surprise of it, but her eyes stayed glued to his face. "In fact...you're punishing me right now," he added, his chest rising a little as his eyes glossed over her. Sarah pursed her lips. This slow burn he had going on wasn't something she was anticipating but it invigorated her all the same.

"How so?" she asked, swallowing hard when his hands found her hips.

"If you could see what I see, then you'd know how torturous it is just looking at you," he said, starting to shift the skirt of her dress up her legs.

"Laying it on pretty thick tonight aren't you?" she asked, nervously. Jareth grinned and removed his hands from her to pull away his gloves.

"I could retaliate, if you prefer." His voice was low and soft, a rumble almost. It did things to her. Dangerous things. Her hands moved lower, surreptitiously teasing the frill of his collar as it fell low on his abdomen.

"So I guess...we've both been kind of bad today," she said, with an innocent shrug. Jareth's smile widened. She was still so shy.

"I believe the term you used was _naughty_," he corrected, and Sarah gulped again, his accent making the word seem...well, naughty. He reached out and pressed his thumbs against the inside of her thighs, dipping under the lace hem of her underwear, and she felt a little jolt go through her. He tilted his head again as he caressed her and his smile became a bit more lively.

"That too," she said, briskly, and tried not to reveal too much of a reaction. This was pathetic. He was barely even touching her and she was already getting worked up.

He leaned forward suddenly and she flinched back, her mouth open, anticipating a kiss. He kept himself from her however, his smile shrewd. She leaned up a little and felt her hands go around his neck when his moved away.

"What do you say? Shall we discipline each other?" he asked, sweetly, softly, seductively. She could feel his hand leaving her thigh and soon felt it again on a much more tender spot. Her fingers curled in his hair, though she tried not to fidget as his began to touch her, harder.

"I think...you've been...naughtier than me...today," she said. He kept his eyes locked on hers as she spoke, but his fingers were not so patient. She took in a sharp breath when two of them slipped inside her and thrusted deep.

"Oh?" he asked. Sarah nodded.

"Roldan seemed...bothered, when you left...You didn't...antagonize him, too...did you?" she asked. Her mouth was hanging open, her arms constricting around him more tightly, pushing them closer. Their eyelids were heavy as they stared at one another, neither wanting to make the first move.

He smiled a little and hooked his fingers deeper.

"Hm...I have no idea what you're talking about," he said, not bothering to disguise the sense of mischief in his voice. He brought his face just a little bit closer to hers, his mouth open, his chest expanding, but stopped just out of reach. She was waiting for him to kiss her and he was determined to make that wait excruciating.

"Uh-huh...sure," Sarah said, her voice turning breathy. There was so much tension in the small space between their mouths. It was awful. She licked her lips but did nothing else. Her hips started to move with his hands and she clung to him even tighter. "You said something about not noticing...what did you mean?" she asked.

"Is Roldan really what you want to talk about right now?" he countered, his spare hand moving up her back, cradling her possessively. Sarah pursed her lips and took a forced breath. She was starting to feel things. Wicked things. This slow burn was steadily consuming her. When she opened her mouth again she let out a soft pant.

"I think...you're just trying...to distract me," she murmured, closing her eyes as she focused on the pleasure. Their foreheads were pressed together now, and even Jareth was beginning to lose concentration.

"Like you distract him..." he said. His lips brushed against hers just barely but it felt like a spark. She swallowed hard and nibbled on her lip, forcing herself not to succumb just yet.

"What is that...supposed to mean?" she asked. Her hands were tightening in his hair now, his around her back. He added another finger and his thrusts became more severe.

"Sarah..." he started, his voice a low drawl, and she moaned a little from it. "Have you really not realized...the reason he is so antagonistic towards you...is because he is in fact incredibly aroused by you?"

He heard her laugh between heavy breaths and she shook her head a little.

"You're funny," she said. Jareth opened his eyes but his vision was hazy. He could see her lips, wet and glistening. He wanted to bite them.

"I'm serious," he said, and leaned in. He gave up. He wanted her, to taste and bite and suck on her. He would have lost their game just then if she hadn't pulled away, though she'd only succeeded in stirring his longing.

"I think...you're just being paranoid. There's no way...he could possibly...have the hots for me," she said, as sternly as she could. She removed her hands from his hair and ran them down his front. A heat was building in her chest and she needed something more. She clung to his lapels and gripped them tightly, not sure if she wanted his coat to go or stay.

"It's really not that hard to believe," he said, angling himself downward so he wouldn't be tempted by the heat of her breath. "I told you...any man...would ravage you, if given the chance." The word ravage passed roughly over his tongue, for he was one such man, one who was restraining himself fiercely. He felt her hands press down his chest and pull the ends of his shirt loose from his pants.

"I don't believe you. We can barely stand each other," she said, slowly unknotting his belt and pulling it free. She cast it away and wrapped an arm around his neck, holding herself steady as she reached down to touch him through the confines of his pants.

Jareth's eyes closed and the hand at her back reached up into her hair, and he grimaced in reluctant enjoyment as she massaged him, growing harder with each movement. He forced himself to laugh then and took a deep breath in the effort to get ahold of himself.

"Heh, He's never been very good with women," he said, his own words becoming strained. She was touching him with such consideration. It was driving him mad. "Especially the one's he's attracted to," he finished, pulling his fingers from her and clamping them around her hand, forcing her to grip him harder. Yes, he was getting greedy now, but her subtle teases were getting the better of him.

She held onto him tightly, letting him guide and force her hand. His breathing was getting heavier, his hand in her hair beginning to pull, and she loved it. She reached down and undid the button on the fly of his trousers.

"And talking about this isn't...killing your mood?" she asked. Jareth smiled and reached down to pull her hips forward.

"Not hardly," he said, pushing her hand beneath his pants and forming it into a fist around his erection. He held her hips suspended, just barely out of reach, and pushed into her just slightly each time she pumped him. She began to make little noises then, little anxious moans that yearned for him to penetrate her.

"Should I be flattered?" she asked. Jareth smiled, tilting his head back to look up at her once more.

"Are you?"

"I don't know," she said, stroking him harder just so he would moan. She smiled when he did, when he couldn't help but let her have her way. She could feel the head of his erection growing wet and pushed her hips just a little bit lower. "I mean, you were upset enough to call him out on it, I guess. And here I thought you didn't get jealous-"

"I am not jealous," Jareth interjected, sternly. Sarah ran her thumb up the length of him, coating her fluids all over as she massaged the tip. His voice staggered then as he groaned and closed his eyes tight. She was getting so bold now. He was finding it harder to endure.

"Why not?" she asked, playfully. "He is handsome...has a nice build...If he lost some of that attitude then who knows?" She meant her words jokingly and nothing more, as if she could ever take the idea of an affair with Roldan seriously. Still, she wasn't prepared for the hard thrust of Jareth's cock as it slammed inside her.

His hands were still on her hips, she'd near forgotten they were there, but no sooner after her words were uttered did they lock, like vices, and pull her down sharply.

Sarah moaned in surprise and let go of him. His breathing was uneasy and arduous as he held her there. She looked to his face, suspicious his action was in reaction to what she'd said, but her concern was fleeting. He moaned, and when he opened his eyes their gazes locked, and it was like an actual pound coursed through them. She felt a heat rise to her cheeks and enflame her entire body and she knew he'd felt it too. She wondered why, why their connection was so palpable. She took a deep breath and, for a moment, it seemed there might be something other than passion on his mind, but before either had time enough to suspect, caution was thrown to the wind and they launched upon each other raggedly.

Their faces crashed, their mouths hot and open, one devouring the other with corse form. Jareth's hand fisted tightly at the back of her head and pressed her close. His eyes screwed shut as he bit her. She gasped and moaned and curled her tongue behind his teeth. Her arms went around him and her fingers clawed into his shoulders. She rose her hips and thrust them down again and again, riding him hard as he thrust up into her, over and over.

He leaned back into the couch and took her with him, his free hand splaying on the small of her back as he guided her rhythm. He couldn't explain how it had happened, where the impulse had come from, but it was there, tearing them to pieces.

Sarah's moans were high, starved and craven. She moved her hands to either side of his face and bit his lips, then threw her head back and pushed him lower. His grip in her hair pulled, arching her back and thrusting her chest towards him. He bit at the swell of her breasts, her dress inching lower and lower the more they moved.

His hand on her hip left to grope at her breast, pushing it higher as he kissed, until his tongue found her nipple, already taut with anticipation. He sucked and kissed and left a trail of hot saliva that turned to a chill the moment he pulled away. His heart was pounding so quickly. Her moans were growing louder but for some reason he...he needed to slow down.

He pulled away from her and straightened her up, pressing their foreheads together as he guided her hips slower. She took heavy breaths and he stole them right back. Their eyes were closed, so he inhaled deeply.

"Sarah..." he whispered and closed his eyes tighter. "Let me smell you."

Sarah furrowed her brow and shook her head.

"What?" she asked, caught off guard. Jareth took a deep breath and slowed their rhythm further, keeping himself pressed deep as he rocked her hips in slight, painstaking arcs.

"You've been so good at...keeping the door closed. But now I...I need to smell you," he said, which only made his request seem stranger. Sarah looked at him, trying to understand, but their faces were still touching and his eyes were still closed. She was too close to really see anything.

"Why?" she asked, and he let out a slow exhale. Why indeed.

He thought she sounded nervous and indeed she had a right to be, but he was greedy. Steadily, day by day, she'd been getting better and better at keeping that wonderful smell of hers concealed. That wonderful smell that actually drove him mad. The only time she slipped up was when they were in the throws, and even then it was only the faint scent of arousal. Before she knew what to do, she would throw everything at him all at once, not just her urges but her emotions. Raw, pure emotions. She couldn't lie to him back then, and it was that kind of truth he had taken for granted. It's what drove him wild, it's what filled the emptiness in his heart. It's what inevitably drove him to hurt her over and over again. But...if he could only smell her now...he would know how she truly felt. If he could smell her now he would be sure to lose himself and he wanted to, desperately. If only she knew.

"I want...I need to feel you," he said, but it only made her more uncertain. She pursed her lips and furrowed her brow deeply.

"I...I'm not sure how. I've been concentrating so hard on keeping it closed...I don't know how to open it," she said. She wasn't quite sure what he was asking of her, but she was able to recall past instances, instances when he was completely enthralled by nothing but her smell. But was it something so simple? Had she really gotten so good? Could he no longer smell her at all?

"It's okay," Jareth said, his tone becoming softer, more tender, and he rose his hands to hold either side of her face. "Just relax. Envision it. Let it flow out of you and directly to me."

She closed her eyes and her brow twisted further. This all seemed a bit strange to her but she nodded in accordance. She tried to focus, to do as he'd said but it was difficult. She couldn't concentrate. Not right now.

Worry nibbled at her lip and she scowled intensely. Jareth saw this and kissed that lip, drawing it out until he took her worry with him.

"Please..." he whispered, pleaded actually, and pulled away to wait for her, patiently. Sarah became reluctant then, wondering why he _needed_ her to do this.

She let out a shallow breath and relaxed, her arms embracing him as she rocked her hips steadily. She wasn't sure what he was looking for, nor how much she could give him, but she would try.

Jareth remained still as she rocked astride him, focusing on the air around them. He regretted ever teaching her how to control her pheromones, for she'd given him a thirst he could no longer quench. He felt hints of it, when she was angry, when she was active, when he was inside her, but nothing compared to those first few days.

He held her close and both their breathing escalated. He inhaled and a subtle flutter warmed his chest. His embrace on her tightened, silently encouraging her. She started to moan and the sensation increased. He gave himself to it but wanted more, always more. He started to pant, layers of her smell beginning to loom in the air about them. It wasn't much. It wasn't everything. It was just a taste, but a taste was all he needed.

He moaned low in the back of his throat and thrust up into her. She gasped and all of the sudden he was back in control. He focused his senses on her, everything. He could sense so many things, yet they were each indiscernible. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, but it was no use. If she had his senses it would be clearer. If she could only understand the way she made him feel...He never restrained anything from her, ever, and it pained him that she had not the ability to perceive it. His own pheromones were running wild but to her...to her it was nothing.

He pulled away and kissed her with a new desperation. He'd been feeling...different lately. He couldn't place when, but it felt like something between them had changed, become stronger. When he looked at her, his heart did not fight itself. In fact it opened, it bloomed for her. He'd never felt such liberation. He wanted to tell her...to tell anyone at all, but still he just...couldn't. Not yet. But this...this he could do. This was as close as he could bring himself to telling her. He couldn't say it, but he showed it to her every time. But...if she could sense him she might know. If she could sense him he wouldn't have to say anything at all. This was as close as he could get before losing it. He hoped, no he prayed that she knew, that somehow she could feel it too.

That's when he realized...he didn't have to pray.

His thumbs caressed her temples as he pulled away from her lips. She opened her eyes, uncertain, but the haze about his gaze was confirmation enough.

"Would you like to know...how it feels?" he asked, his voice drifting. His eyelids were lowered, his gaze glossy. Sarah recognized this look, though she wasn't sure what to say.

"How...what feels?" she asked. Jareth smiled and leaned back, resting against the couch.

"What it's like to feel someone...the way I feel you," he explained. Sarah frowned, hesitant.

"You can do that?" she asked. His smile humbled and he nodded. She was quiet, her lips pouting with reluctance. He brought a hand to the side of her face and tucked her hair behind her ear.

"Do you trust me?" he asked. Her expression was skeptical, apprehensive even. Her eyes scoured his, full of misgivings and yet, after a moment, she nodded slowly. Her eyes stayed on his, blazing as he rose his hand to her forehead. She bit her lip, closing her eyes tightly when he pressed his thumb down the center of her forehead. He pulled away and she was surprised to find that was all it took. She opened her eyes and then something...unexpected happened.

It started with heat. Her eyes, they were warm. She blinked them repeatedly but found her vision was starting to change. This confused her and she became worried. Wasn't she supposed to smell something? It came on slowly but was soon to escalate. She opened her mouth, doubt lain clear on her face, but she asked no questions. Jareth moved, pulling back the hair from her neck and kissed her there softly.

She closed her eyes, but the warmth stayed. Now it was spreading. Now it made her skin tingle and a pressure formed around her as if the air itself was vibrating. She gasped and one of his hands sprang up to clutch her neck, his kiss turning to a bite. She could feel...something now. Like a fog. Like a weight in her chest. Her chest expanded with each breath until her bosom heaved. Her eyes were now open wide and...they just couldn't focus. A wave of vertigo hit her and for a moment she went limp, and it became clear then precisely why Jareth was supporting her the way he was.

She panted heavily and tried to move but her limbs were weak and wobbly, her fingers still tingling as she tried weakly to clutch them around his back. She swallowed hard and again tried to pull away from him. This feeling scared her, like she'd been thrust into a drunk stupor.

"You can smell it, can't you?" Jareth asked, pulling away to look up to her. He held his hands around either side of her jaw, holding her upright as she fought to gain equilibrium. Sarah frowned but panted even heavier. This feeling...it was spreading lower. She could feel it in her abdomen, twisting her in knots each time Jareth rolled his hips. It was...different. It was almost painful. And yet, she knew that her moans were as loud as screams.

"Jareth- What-" She tried to speak but she was quickly overwhelmed. There was alarm in the back of her mind, but she was in such a trance she couldn't do anything about it. Jareth closed his eyes and brought their faces together.

"Do you feel it? Do you finally understand?" he asked, slowing down so he didn't completely overpower her. Sarah gulped and relaxed into his hold.

"Are these...my pheromones?" she asked, boggled. She could barely maintain motor function, the room seeming to spin around her.

Jareth took a deep breath and moaned. The more she opened up to him the more he was able to take from her. Her scent flushed his senses and he fought to retain enough clarity to not consume her whole.

"No," he whispered, lowering his hands from her neck when he was sure she wouldn't fall. "They're mine."

She closed her eyes then, her breathing starting to shallow, her body going lax, and she realized suddenly that it had been tension rather than numbness that had rendered her immobile. She embraced him tightly then, holding his face in the crook of her neck. She felt...wrought with things, with emotions and sensations, so many she couldn't label them all. So this is what it was like? This was the way his people communicated? It wasn't a smell at all. It had nothing to do with one sense or another. It was everything. It was completely its own. It was something she...couldn't fathom.

"Is this...how you feel...when you smell me?" she asked. She wasn't sure if they were moving fast or slow, but the immense pleasure inside of her only continued to grow. She couldn't describe it. She'd never felt anything like it.

"Yes...Only...imagine it...tenfold," he replied, turning sharply and laying her out against the couch. The gesture, while minor, was like a whirlwind to her and she gasped as she landed, her mouth opening wide as another surprise shriek of pleasure escaped her. He could go deeper now, sink into her, slowly. She could feel every bit of him inside her, feel as he pushed and stretched every part of her. It was so acute, so...so...

Her back arched and she screamed.

"Ah! J-Jareth!" she called his name, her hands clawing around his biceps as he held himself above her. Her toes curled, her knees bent, twisting and turning as she fought to accommodate whatever the fuck was happening to her.

Jareth let out a hoarse moan and screwed his eyes shut. The way she was shrieking for him...he'd never heard her make such beautiful noises. And she writhed, in euphoric torment. Yes, this was what he felt for her. This was how he agonized. If she could not understand him now then all hope was lost. He gave her everything he had, made sure she felt everything. She grimaced and pushed her head back into the couch, her knees tightening around his hips and bracing. It was too much. She couldn't take it, but she would. He would never hold back from her. Not ever.

"Jareth!" she cried again, her voice a wailing falsetto. She couldn't -this feeling -it needed to stop. Jareth gasped and groaned and thrust his arms around her, engulfing her as he pushed her shoulders down, allowing her no buffer as he pounded into her. Her hands went beneath his jacket, her nails digging into his ribs through his shirt as she clawed at him mercilessly. He called out in pain, but it was outweighed by another terrible scream from her. She lifted her body against his and it locked as the tremors hit her, leaving her quaking yet petrified as she experienced the most severe orgasm she could possibly imagine. Jareth's arms buckled as a flood of her aroma washed over him. He reached down and wrapped an arm under her leg, holding her taut. This was it. This was what he was waiting for, what he had been craving. It was just like before, when she could do nothing to hold back. Gods, it'd crashed into him so profoundly, he didn't even have time to sort through what he was sensing when he came inside her, loudly, violently. She took from him everything he had until he was left with delirium. But this was a madness he craved, a madness he was sure he would never, ever be rid of.

The sound of their breathing was raucous and their prostrated state unkempt. He leaned above her, and a wave of fresh cool air washed over her. Her chest still heaved and sweat clung the ends of his hair to his face.

He leaned up a little further and achingly removed his coat.

Sarah rose her arms above her head, anything to help cool herself down.

"What...the hell...was that?" she asked, rolling her head back as she took slow deep breaths. Jareth, just as exhausted, nearly fell on top of her once his coat was tossed to the side. He lowered his stomach to hers and reached up to play with the hair that framed her face.

"That...is what it feels like to truly be with someone," he said, stroking her temple as he regarded her. She looked away and took a deep breath.

"Well then...touché," she said, recalling the speech he'd once gave her, how he'd described what it meant to _truly be with someone_. She didn't understand what he meant until now. Though it seemed he hadn't been as egotistic as she'd thought. "Jareth?" she asked, her eyes falling shut. "I think I'm going to pass out." It was getting harder for her to keep her eyes open and her body, it just felt like a dead weight. Jareth smiled and stroked her cheek.

"You very well might," he said, and rose a knuckle to brush away a tear she didn't even know was there. "It's overwhelming, isn't it?" he asked. Sarah struggled to peer back to him.

"This isn't going to be...permanent or anything, is it?" she asked, with minor dread. She couldn't imagine feeling like that all the time, and that's what he claimed to feel from her? Every single time? She felt kind of bad for him actually.

"No, that charm was only temporary," he said, and she focused her eyes on him when he sounded somewhat let down by the fact.

"Oh?"

"Yes...More than simply heightening your senses, I added one. Making it permanent would be considered an _unnatural_ change, and could in fact have a detrimental effect on your body," he explained and she became suddenly worried. He smiled again, her expressions had become so dramatic; she no longer had the energy to keep her emotions coy. "Don't worry. It's perfectly fine in small doses," he assured her, leaning forward and kissing her swollen lips before she had the chance to nibble them.

"Ah...I see...Alright then..." She was starting to doze off, her breaths long and labored. She laid the back of her hand against her forehead and glanced towards the fire. "If I happen to fall asleep like this...you better not do anything nasty," she said, her eyes drifting shut.

Jareth cracked a smirk then, watching her silently; but after a moment, he withdrew himself from her. She flinched uncomfortably, letting him know she was indeed still awake. He leaned up off of her and removed his shirt, reclining against the couch and closing his eyes as he relaxed. He never imagined getting to experience that with her, for some reason the thought had never before occurred. An unbidden exchange of pheromones was to be considered an extremely intimate act, and in all actuality he'd only ever done so maybe a handful of times over his entire life. And to think, he'd done so with a human.

He inhaled deeply through his nose and sagged a little into the couch. Should he tell her how significant their actions were? Should he tell her how much it meant to him? He'd sensed something...right at the end, something she'd kept buried beneath all the rest. He couldn't discern it, not with everything else going on, but it was...recognizable. He tried to think but he couldn't for the life of him recall what it was.

He rolled his head and glanced back to her, spread eagle as she sprawled along the couch. Her breathing had calmed but he had a feeling she was still awake. One of her knees was bent while the other leg dangled to the floor, her dress falling high up her thighs. She was such an odd vision like this, caught somewhere between cute and alluring.

"What is the name of that device...the one that captures images and puts them on pieces of parchment?" he asked, turning his head back to look at the ceiling while he waited for her eyes to open.

"You mean a camera?" she replied, and he rolled his head back with a grin.

"Yes. That. I wish I had one of those this very moment," he said, and she rose a haphazard brow as she struggled and failed to look over herself, and shrugged with indifference.

"Eh, wouldn't that be nice," she said, sarcastically, and let her head drop back to the couch cushion. She heard a click then, and the very familiar sound of a shutter.

Suddenly, she found the energy to lean up.

She opened her eyes and scowled.

"What-the...you've got to be kidding me," she said and threw herself back down exasperatingly. "Where did that even come from?" she asked. Jareth smiled as he lowered the odd contraption and pulled the polaroid from its slot. She peered back to find him waving it at her teasingly.

"Ask and you shall receive," he said, grinning smugly at his own handiwork. She wondered how in the hell he even knew how to use one of those things.

"I didn't know you could conjure things from the Aboveground," she said, something that she would have liked to know much, much earlier. Jareth huffed through his nose as he watched the picture slowly develop.

"I can conjure anything you desire. From this world or the next," he said and let his attention drift away from her. Sarah saw this, saw his expression as it shifted the longer he stared at the photo.

"You're grinning like a fool over there, can I see how it turned out?" she asked. Jareth shook his head.

"No. Definitely not," he said, with a dastardliness that had her struggling to sit up. "Ah, ah, ah," he said, sending the picture away with a little poof. "Something like this is far too scandalous for such delicate eyes," he said, raising a brow at her when she glared.

"You're a real gentleman, aren't you?" she asked. Jareth's grin broadened.

"Now, who ever told you that?" he asked and leaned forward to set the camera on the coffee table. Sarah eyed him warily. He seemed to have much more energy than her.

"No one. Absolutely no one." He smiled to himself and leaned back in his seat, and when it seemed like he was in fact still tame, she too fell back and relaxed. It was so strange...she was still aware of everything she'd learned from Marie, but being with him today had only felt...relieving. Now that couldn't have been good. She felt her eyes growing heavy, the light of the fire starting to blur. "I mean it Jareth," she said, and he looked over curiously. Her eyes were closed again, the urge to sleep hitting her unexpectedly. "Nothing...nasty..."

* * *

Sarah awoke to find herself tucked quite carefully, her face nuzzling into her favorite pillow. She blinked slowly and scowled. Her head felt fuzzy and it was a strain trying to remember how exactly she'd gotten there.

She sat up a little and immediately realized she was naked beneath the blanket, clad in nothing but her necklace. Her brow wriggled still, as she _could have sworn_ she had also been wearing a dress. She rubbed her eyes with the palm of her hand and let out a low exhale. She was still tired.

She didn't know what time it was, but neither did she care, content instead with simply falling back asleep. She pulled the blanket back over her shoulder and rolled over, then stopped, with not much surprise at all.

She'd wondered why she was on the far side of the bed when usually she slept in the middle. But it would seem the middle was occupied today, by a very unwanted guest.

She scowled deeply then. She was willing to brush off the missing clothes, but this she couldn't ignore.

Why did he always do this? Why could he not just sleep in his own damn room? Actually, her anger was unwarranted for this was in fact the first time Jareth had slept in her bed. The days he'd invaded her dreams, she was fairly certain he'd come in the morning, and the time he'd made her cry...well, he claimed not to have slept at all...as if sneaking around her unconscious body was better under any circumstances.

He was faced towards her, one arm outstretched as he laid on his side. She followed that arm and realized it had been under her favorite pillow all along. He shifted and she saw his hand flex, his arm curling up as if expecting something to be there to latch on to.

She scowled harder. Jareth was most definitely a cuddler and that was perhaps the one thing she swore not to do with him. It wasn't much of a principle, but it was the easiest one to live up to.

She thought about simply getting up for the day, but she could tell by how pale the sun was that it was still fairly early and damn it, it was her bed. She would sleep in it if she wanted to. She looked back to Jareth, her eyes narrowing on him suspiciously as she tried to imagine all the things he could have done to her after she'd fallen asleep, but she couldn't remember anything. She recalled he'd taken her picture and then...nothing.

She found she was actually glaring at him now, her fingers tapping impatiently. What would be the best way to handle this? she wondered.

Jareth let out a long exhale and groaned, scowling into his pillow as he reached out and grabbed her by the arm, yanking her back down.

"Stop looking at me like that," he grumbled, his arm constricting tightly around her abdomen. Sarah landed with an _oof_ and immediately tried to sit up. She'd fallen over his waist, laying perpendicular to him as he held her there, and, aside from the simple need to escape, it really wasn't all that comfortable.

"You're awake?" she asked, struggling and failing. His arm was like a vice, his strength just plain stupid.

"No," he answered, grumpily. Sarah gave in to lay there for a minute, then tried shifting to a more comfortable position.

"I take it you put me to bed then?"

"No, after our talk I thought it would make more sense to have Roldan do it."

She would have lunged to her feet just then if it weren't for his blatant sarcasm.

"That's not funny. I can't remember a thing," she said. Jareth took a deep breath and relaxed a bit, though Sarah found his grip hadn't changed.

"I figured you wouldn't."

Oh, now that worried her.

"Oh really? Anything I should know about?" she asked, accusingly. She might not have been so defensive if she wasn't in such a compromising position. He had her laid across his lap after all, and while he did have the decency of a blanket, she didn't.

"Not particularly..." and his voice trailed off. She wasn't sure if it was just because he was tired or because of something else.

"You didn't do anything nasty, did you?" she asked, with warning. She saw him crack a smile and tried to sit up again.

"I guess you'll never know," he said, playfully, and rolled over onto his back. He switched arms, holding her with one while the other went behind his head.

"Great. That's just great. Could you let go of me?" she asked. Jareth smiled then released her, his fingers sifting through her hair as they pulled away. She sat up and lifted the blanket to cover herself, surprised he had cooperated so easily.

"Relax. I was a proper gentleman," he said, his smile betraying him. Sarah glared and crossed her arms.

"Pf, yeah, as if I'd believe that," she said and looked away. Jareth rose his arms to stretch and then brought both of them to rest behind his head. Her eyes peered back then, stealthily. His position made his arms flex and she couldn't help but appreciate it. For being so lean, he had a surprising amount of muscle on him. Damn it, she shouldn't be checking him out. She was trying to be adverse.

"Come now, must you be so skeptical? I carried you to bed, found your gown was stuck to you in sweat and thought you might better cool down without it," he explained, but Sarah's eyes stayed narrow.

"And I suppose I invited you to stay too?" she asked. He looked away then, a fun little smile lighting up his face that she really hoped had no right being there.

"Actually, I believe your exact words were, _fine I'll allow you to put me to bed but if I sense any funny business I'll kick your royal ass all the way back to Kansas_." He snickered a little as he mocked her, raising a smug brow in her direction as he waited for her reaction.

Sarah recoiled a bit. There was no way she'd said that. She didn't remember it at all. Sensing her reluctance, Jareath continued on.

"When I asked where this Kansas was, you glared at me quite viciously and said, _somewhere over the Goddamn rainbow_. I tried to tisk you, but then you went on to lecture me on all the ways to be a gentleman and encouraged I take strong heed...Oh, what was the phrase you used...happy wife, happy life?"

Sarah's face turned beat red then. There was no fucking way she'd said that. Not in a million years. She didn't care if she was over tired and half cocked.

"I don't believe you," she said, with a grave sense of dread. Jareth glanced away and shrugged.

"You don't have to. You merely asked, so I answered," he said, casually. Sarah turned away then and tried not to huff, taking her blanket with her as she stood and left the bed. Jareth's eyes followed after her, half tempted to pull her shield away before she got too far out of reach.

"Uh-huh. Gotcha," she grumbled, heading towards the washroom. "If that's how it works then can I ask if you're coming to the lesson today?"

"Would you like me to?" he countered. She paused with her hand on the bathroom door, glancing back to him with a raised brow.

"We need to rehearse the ceremony, and I do believe we're running out of time, so yeah, I would," she answered, turning back around to open the door. She heard him speak from over her shoulder.

"I suppose that would be wise, considering it's tomorrow."

Sarah stopped then, freezing for just a moment.

"What?" she asked, fighting not to turn back around. Jareth, oblivious, leaned back and sprawled across the bed.

"The ceremony. It's tomorrow. Good thing you brought it up...one of us may have forgotten," he said, carelessly, not realizing the effect his words were having.

Sarah gripped the knob tighter. She wasn't expecting...yes, yes she had indeed forgotten. She knew the wedding was soon, but not _that _soon. She'd been telling herself not to think about it too much, so ardently that in fact she must have lost some of her attention on the matter. She couldn't remember what day Roldan had said it was, just that it was _only a few days_ away. Wow, he must have said that a few days ago. Damn it. She'd told them countless times to get her a damn calendar.

She couldn't help the feeling of dread that gradually pooled at the bottom of her stomach. It was stupid, she shouldn't be panicking now. She'd known about this...

No, she would not break now. She'd been doing so well, just one more day. She shook her head and shoo'd it all away, turning the knob with determination as she went to take a step inside.

"...Roldan would never let that happen," she said, biting back her scornful tone. Jareth picked up on it nonetheless, and looked towards her a bit more attentive. He didn't really believe the smile she glanced back at him with. "Besides...how could _I ever forget_?"

She forced her smile as she stepped into the bathroom, shutting the door gently behind her and letting out a swift exhale. Her toes felt frigid treading bare across the floor and she shivered as reality hit her. She was getting married tomorrow. She was being coerced into getting married tomorrow. And Jareth...no, she couldn't even factor Jareth in right now.

She stepped towards the tub and stood waiting as it filled, her feet fidgeting anxiously. With an impatient sigh she sat down. Dipping her toes into the warm water, she hoped it would sooth her goosebumps. It didn't. Not at all. She sighed again and chided herself.

_Cold feet_, she thought, _how appropriate_.

  



	115. Chapter 21, Nothing Gold

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was not aware until recently that AO3 absorbed my stories when another site I posted on went down. Because of this, the version here was left unfinished though listed as a completed story in the archives. Apologize for this. Oubliettes was not the ending. The story is still on going and will be for quite some time. I'm adding all missing chapters to this version, on AO3, and will be updating it regularly along with my account on fanfiction .net 
> 
> Again, I'm sorry for any who thought the story ended. Hopefully this will make up for that ;) 
> 
> DISCLAIMER: This chapter contains content that may not be suitable for all readers. EXTREME NONCON, RAPE, AND OTHER INSTANCES OF GRAPHIC VIOLENCE. Trigger sensitive readers should proceed with caution. However, all content of this manner is limited to one section which I have labeled the beginning and end with THIS SYMBOL (~~~). Readers may skip this section with minimal hindrance to the remainder of the chapter.
> 
> Please note the disclaimer ^. Personally, I don't think the writing is that bad (meaning graphic/brutal), however I've gotten in trouble in the past for not leaving appropriate content disclaimers. I tried to make it so that if any of you do skip the section, you can still understand what's going on/the importance of it afterward...though perhaps not to the same extent.

Chapter 21, Nothing Gold

* * *

The hall was dark. Empty. The torches, which usually sparked from even the slightest flicker of movement, were kept quelled. There was a hum. An odd sound, like a draft. It resonated through the corridor, its haunting tone seeming to draw one in, leading them further and further down. At the end there was a door, unseen within the blackness. The air changed as it moved around it, as if being sucked between its cracks. One could feel the breath as it left them, pulled into the vacuum. It left a sense of unease behind it, a hard rock that formed in one's throat and sank to the pit of their stomach, but it was a warning that went unheeded time and time again.

It was warmer here and grew more so the lower one descended, like approaching the core of a planet or...perhaps, more likely, it were the gates of Hell that awaited them. It was that very door that stood before them now, that very sense of dread made tangible in their guts. One more step and there would be no turning back. There was still time. They could just leave. He reached out to the door...

"Are you sure about this Jareth?"

There was a pause. With a silent sigh, Jareth turned and glared, his hand tightening into a fist around the handle.

"Do you have any other ideas?" he asked, impatience sharpening his tone. Davion looked away worriedly and folded his arms over his chest.

"N-no...but..."

"But what?" Jareth interrupted, his voice quickly gaining anger as it rose. He eased up after catching Davion's reaction however. Tensions were running high this night. "Are you afraid now that we're actually down here?" he asked, mockingly. Davion stepped back and looked at the door. It looked completely black in this darkness. It had been hard to see without the torches for guidance, but their eyesight was keen and both agreed it would be best to keep this venture as clandestine as possible...

"Are you not?"

There was something heady in Davion's question, something that was not to be mocked. Jareth's glare softened to a scowl and he pulled away from the door slightly.

"There's no point in being afraid. We must do what must be done," he said, with bitter resolve. Davion continued to frown, his brow drawing tight.

"Yes but we've never..." He did not finish his sentence, he did not have to. Jareth knew exactly what he was thinking. They'd never done this before. Hell, they'd never even seen what was on the other side of this door let alone actually faced the spirit. Their father...he'd informed them of everything they needed to know in regards to the potent force that dwelled beneath the castle, but never had he taken them to experience it. Never had they seen it, spoken to it...pleaded with it. "What if something goes wrong? What if we offend it or it denies us? What then?" he asked. One thing their father hadn't prepared them for was this very situation. The irony was not lost on them. Jareth cracked a smile and turned away.

"We'll just have to make sure we're extra polite then, won't we?" he asked, condescendingly, and again went to turn the handle on the door. Davion bit his tongue.

It had been one week since their father's passing. One week. They'd barely had time to change out of their mourning clothes before Jareth insisted they "get this over with." Neither knew what would happen now that the Labyrinth was free...neither knew if it was a good or bad thing, if the land would thrive or perish. It didn't seem like that mattered to Jareth however. No, to Jareth it was plain and simple. The Labyrinth was his birthright and so it would be his, one way or another. Davion knew his brother well, and knew enough to pity him greatly.

He was still biting his tongue when Jareth opened the door and with it came a startling gust. A cool breeze rustled their hair and pulled the door from Jareth's grip. The hollow within was filled with an inky blackness, different from an ordinary shadow. With a tight fist Jareth took a deep breath, steadying his nerves, though he made sure Davion saw no such action. He gripped the dead torch he held tighter and then rose it in front of them as they entered the room. It lit upon passing into the darkness, though the depths had hardly been penetrated.

They moved slowly, from step to step, tile to tile. This room housed the beating heart of nature and was meant only for those given the rite. It stood to say, neither had such privilege. They were intruders here and could be turned on in an instant.

The flame of the torch brightened as they neared the center of the room, the odd hum in the air deafening. They stopped when an altar emerged into their view. It was small, a mere pillar. Atop it rested a gold saucer, filled with the same blackness that surrounded them. They simply stood for a moment, as if forgetting what to do next.

"...Well? Are you going to light it?"

Davion's voice echoed throughout the room and he found himself biting his tongue again. Jareth remained silent, an expression of vexation wrought about his face. He scowled deeply and lowered the flame to the rim of the bowl.

He pulled the torch away slowly but the flame stayed behind. They watched it dance and grow and spread. It was almost entrancing, the movements of the flame soft and eerie.

It took a moment, but something started to change. They could feel it, something compelling shifting in the air. It drew them from their daze and had them each taking a step back. The heat in the air fell slack, leaving behind a cold humidity that reflected their nerves, and the draft that brought them there seemed to curl around them, trapping them in its tight embrace. The fire paled and thinned, until it became a disk of light floating upon the saucer.

What happened next they found greatly worrying.

There was a rumble, a tremor of sorts, and it shook the saucer atop the pillar violently. The light began to bubble and pour over the sides like liquid. Trails of it spread like veins into the darkness, farther and farther, until it was clear to them that this room had no walls, had no limits of any kind. The roots of the fire spread into oblivion and they were kept trapped at the center of the glorious swarm.

The tangle of light began to move slowly, creating the illusion that the room itself was indeed churning, and to them it seemed they were standing amidst a vast night sky.

Jareth took another step back, half-surprised he was even able to do so. Magic hung latent in the air, its intentions unclear. Davion looked around, marveling at the sight before them.

"What...happens now?" Davion whispered. Jareth's gaze traveled with Davion's, however his was anything but lost.

"...It's waking up," he mumbled, then glared when he spotted Davion's look of awe. "Stop your gawking. Let your guard down for even a moment and we could be dead where we stand," he warned, his expression stern as Davion looked over. Davion frowned but nodded, then stood more rigidly. Jareth turned away again, facing the expanse before them. He opened his mouth, drew in breath to speak, and was rightly impeded by a loud demonic bellowing.

Alarm hit them instantly, turning them defensive as they waited for attack.

"Two...Two go...who?" asked a terrible voice, its tone grating, vibrating through their very bones. Jareth scowled but kept himself composed. The voice, it was unpleasant but not menacing. This was it. There was no turning back now.

"Jareth and Davion, sons of Thaelon," Jareth said. There was another rumble, like a groan almost and the bellowing...it seemed to them as if the beast was yawning. The myriad of lights continued to turn, its farthest splinters glowing and fading, twinkling like stars.

"Sons...of Thaelon?...I am...awoken...why?"

Jareth gripped the stick of the torch tighter and grimaced. He would never admit it, but Davion's words were starting to get to him. Damn it. No. He would not show fear.

"Your master is dead," he said sternly. Both men continued to search the room, though saw nothing but the great void.

"Mmmm-my Master?" the voice said, groggily, its raucous tremors causing the splinters of light to spread even farther. The light at the center of the pillar glowed brighter than the rest, so bright they had to look away; and if they weren't so blinded by it, they might have suspected there was something new growing inside.

"Yes, Thaelon. Your master and our king."

"Mmm...I have no master," the voice responded and a large gust of wind blew over them, as if a giant had turned its back on them. Jareth fought back a sneer of frustration.

"Because he is dead," he repeated. Davion looked down, curiosity turning to worry. Jareth hadn't noticed yet, but the veins at their feet were beginning to snake around them.

"And who...of you shall sit the throne? Who of you _will take his place_?"

"Um...Jareth?" The worry in Davion's whisper drew Jareth's attention and he looked down, quickly realizing why in the world he would dare interrupt him now. The fire at their feet had begun to withdraw and condense, forming...something at the base of the pillar. Whatever the purpose of this light was, it seemed it was now taking shape.

"I am to be king, and as your liege I bid you show your true form!" Jareth commanded, perhaps too forcefully. Davion's eyes on him widened, shocked by his gall. So much for being extra polite. He could see Jareth biting his cheek however, and could tell he was making a huge bluff. Everyone in the room knew he was in no position to give orders. To anyone.

There was silence, an unnerving silence, and they thought foolishly that nothing would happen. And then suddenly, much too suddenly, the splay of lights retracted, in one fell swoop, and condensed at the center into a roaring fire. It wound around the base of pillar and grew to become the trunk of a magnificent tree, a tree whose branches blazed, whose leaves fell as embers. The force of such a transformation nearly sent them stumbling back.

The tree crackled and swayed. With no breeze, its movements were haunting. All fell silent, Jareth peered around, was about to speak when again surprise hit them. The tree quickly began to disintegrate, burning itself to naught. Its branches crumbled, its heat blistering, until it was once again nothing more than a ball floating atop the saucer.

Davion, concerned and suspicious, took half a step forward, his brow tightly drawn as he opened his mouth to speak, but just as his voice cracked did the ball now swell and burst into sparks, glittering down as they faded into nothing. Jareth stood back, his expression mirroring his brother's. What...did this mean? This was quite the display and they didn't...know what to do. They were amidst nothing again. Davion looked all around. It was pitch black. This darkness was unnatural and he feared, dreaded even, that if things did not end in their favor they may never find their way out.

It was then that something drew their attention. There was a flicker, faint and taunting, far off in the distance. It became brighter once their eyes found it. Like embers, a soft glint revealed itself from the shadows, blinking like eyes and watching them as it prowled.

The brothers stood more rigidly then.

"My _liege, _you say_?"_ a voice asked, and a definite chill shot down both their spines. "...Audacious is _My Liege_. Confident is _My Liege_. _My Liege_ shows no fear, though _My Liege_ is most certainly afraid."

There was something different now. Something dangerous. The voice, the terrible bellow, had softened. It had become crisp, sharp. It was now focused and...distinctly feminine.

Its ember eyes narrowed from the shadows.

"Fear of the gods is instilled in all," Jareth said, cautiously. The level of magic wafting in the air had increased exponentially. It had become palpable. Thick. That couldn't be good. Davion eyed his brother carefully, trying to figure out his next move and praying they hadn't screwed this up already. He could feel something disturbing about this new presence, something that made the beat of his heart a hard thud. Though the figure it seemed, cared not for their trepidation.

"But I am not a god...and I sense no reverence in you," it said. It had come a little closer, more glowing pulses being revealed. They could see the contour of a face, of a torso even.

"If you are not a god, then what are you?" Davion asked, carelessly. The being turned its gaze to him.

"I am Incarnate," it said. Davion worried his brow.

"...Incarnate?"

"Yes, and you boy are quite trite. But...you have not come to speak with me on such trivialities," the voice said, with an underlying rumble of warning. Davion kept his mouth shut. "Why have you come here, sons of Thaelon?" it asked, turning its gaze back to Jareth and glaring. "My master is dead and you hold no bounds here." Jareth took a deep breath and steeled himself.

"We have come in deference...in dire need of your assistance," he said and, even from as far away as they were, Jareth could see the figure's brow raise at such a statement.

"Really? It has been so long since a man last paid me homage," it said, the tone of its voice implying intrigue. Davion bit his lip, he wasn't sure such a tone was a good thing. Jareth however, smiled.

"Yes, your majesty is without question. As for our need, we would request of you one of three things," he said. The figure continued to pace, restlessly almost. In actuality, it was making both boys a great deal nervous, though each assumed that was its intention in doing so.

"Ah...and what, pray, am I to receive in return?" it asked. Jareth smiled again, devilishly.

"Me."

The figure stopped, staring at him blatantly.

"Hm...you say that as if it is an offer worth my while. However, I have had many men and few, I assure you, have been worth anything at all." Jareth's smile curled on one side, an expression that made Davion even more nervous.

"Search my heart," Jareth said, placing a hand over his chest. "You will find I am a man like no other." He spoke dashingly, a facade the spirit saw through instantly. Its eyes narrowed yet again.

"A man with tongues made of silver," it said and resumed its pacing. "Your offer to me is deceitful, is it not? What you offer is not you, but the reins you seek to bind me with," it corrected, shrewd eyes glancing back as it moved. Jareth straightened up from his bow.

"Reins to bindings that have already been placed, no?" he asked. He may have been speaking lofty, but both already knew the truth of the situation. The Spirit of the Labyrinth, it was not any such spirit. It was not a creature, it was not a mere manifestation of natural energy. It was...inexplicable. It was something the likes of which simply did not exist. It was not a god. It was more than that. It had no label and yet, whatever it was, it was somehow trapped within the physical realm. And his father had told him that because of this, because it had been linked to the dominion of Man, that Man now had dominion over it. It needed that subservience to maintain its existence. But now that authority was lost and for the first time...Man was powerless.

"And what do you know of the ties that bind me?"

"I know that the truth, that your power is not yours to control. It must be in the charge of another...even if you are free, your tethers deem that your powers...are not your own," Jareth said. The Labyrinth turned, its vague expression seemingly offended, debate evident in its stare.

"And yet, my power may belong to no man."

"It belonged to my father. It belonged to his father and his father back for generations."

The Labyrinth began to shake its head then and a small creeping smile spread across its face.

"No...what you refer to is control. Men have controlled me for eons, but I have not belonged to them."

"Control. Yes, control...it is the root of all struggles and perennial struggle is the basis of all harmony. Is it not so?" Jareth asked, so tactfully. The Labyrinth stifled a laugh then, a most human reaction.

"Your wisdom is canny and most certainly vain," it said, turning away and raising its nose to them. Jareth narrowed his eyes. She was coming into better view now. He could see the playfulness in her darkened expression.

"And nature will not find balance until you are ruled once more. Will you not welcome a new master?" he asked. There was no point in playing games. The Labyrinth could try to trick them but their father had informed them well. The Labyrinth's purpose was to maintain balance between the physical and spiritual realms, and that meant the accordance of Man and Nature. Without it, there was no equilibrium. The forces of nature would fall into chaos. The Labyrinth needed a master and he needed the Labyrinth.

"My _tethers_ are bounds of fate and one does not choose their fate," she said, arms crossing over her chest as she glided away.

"What are you saying?" Davion asked. The atmosphere had become much less hostile, allowing him to find his voice. Jareth too crossed his arms and let his eyes follow the figure, a complacent grin curling his lips.

"She's saying that she does not have the ability to simply give herself to me. That would be too easy. Her masters are assigned by other means, correct?" Jareth asked. The Labyrinth nodded.

"Such freedoms were taken from me long ago," she said, glancing away as she resumed her pacing. She had to, or he may have seen her smirk just then.

"Then perhaps the trials," Jareth suggested. The Labyrinth turned to find Jareth already awaiting her gaze. "My brother," he said, and gestured to Davion. "Allow him to compete in the Labyrinth's challenge."

"Your brother? _Do braar..._" she repeated, eyes slyly drifting. She was starting to smile again, though this time did little to conceal it. Oh, this was such fun. She knew it was only a matter of time before they came searching for her and now they were about to grovel. Her plan...it was working out splendidly. If Thaelon had been useful at any point, it was surely in his death.

"Yes. Please allow me the chance." Davion stepped forward and spoke earnestly. He did not possess the same kind of confidence Jareth did, but neither was he afraid.

"Are there to be two kings upon the Goblin Throne?" the Labyrinth asked. Davion frowned.

"No...If I should succeed, I will concede my hold to my brother. He is the rightful ruler," he explained.

"A vow not without clear conviction, and from a prince of Orpia at that," she responded, glancing down as she thought. "Tell me, do you not fear the usurper _My Liege_?" Her eyes rose to Jareth.

"Search his heart as you have mine. He has my faith as he will have yours," he responded assuredly. He trusted his brother's word without fail. After all, all they had was each other.

"Ah, but a soul corrupted is no more worse than a soul which has only yet to be, and you are both the son of Thaelon," the Labyrinth said, pointing a lecturing finger into the air as it spoke. Davion scowled with offense.

"You say power will corrupt me as it did him?" he asked, angered by the presumption. "Never. I say I am stronger than that. And my brother, my brother is the strongest of all! His will shall not bend let alone break," he asserted. The woman slowed then, her gaze testing his words. She did not doubt them in the slightest. In fact, that was precisely the problem.

"And it is that strength that has rendered you_ ineligible_," she said. Davion's eyes widened.

"What?"

"You are too familiar," she said, waving a hand through the air as she turned to pace in the other direction. "Your _knowledge_ of me gives you an advantage. You know my land, you know my breath and my bones. Your magic is well taught. You were raised close to my heart, how then could you propose a fair trial under such auspicious circumstances?"

"Who says the trial must be fair?" Jareth asked. The Labyrinth turned and glared.

"Nature," she stated. "As you yourself have said, nature is harmony. It must be balanced. Both the young Fae and I share in our strengths. My opponent must offer something to me, possess qualities that offset my own, qualities that I do not already have," she explained.

"Qualities such as?"

"Qualities of the heart. Strength of character, determination, sincerity, will, desire. My labyrinth cannot be solved by physical means alone. It is a test of spirit. Mine versus theirs. I require a heart...One that can fill the emptiness of mine."

"You doubt the strength of my spirit?" Davion asked. The Labyrinth turned to him sharply.

"I have seen _your heart_, son of Thaelon. And you, child, do not possess half the resolve you think you do," she said, curtly, something which Davion took great offense to.

"My resolve? My resolve is absolute. I want what is best for the kingdom. I want to support my brother," he said, his voice raising passionately. Jareth remained quiet. Davion my not have realized it yet, but the Labyrinth had made its decision. Their one good plan was already thrown out the window. A mild surge of panic hit him as he acknowledged this but he did well to conceal it.

"But are those desires one in the same?"

Davion paused. His gaze a gape for just a second. He blinked and shook his head, apparently caught off guard by her question, and the anger returned.

"Of course," he answered, aggravated anyone would dare accuse him of ineptitude. He was also aware of Jareth's continuing silence and wondered why in the hell he hadn't bothered to stand up for him yet.

"There is waver in your voice," the Labyrinth said, drawing back his attention. "Is it hesitation? No matter how small, your heart of hearts still feels doubt, doesn't it?" she asked. He glanced away then, just slightly. The Labyrinth smiled. "Your heart is weak. It is not worthy of claiming mine."

She turned away to leave him pouting, scowling intently at the floor. Truth be told, it did not matter what a person believed in, whether it was right or wrong, so long as they believed in it fully. She could sense the boy's heart was in the right place, it just wasn't sure it belonged there, and Jareth...well, his heart may be all afoul, but it was strong. It knew exactly where it was and where it wanted to be. Such a pity.

"Tell us then, what must I do?" Jareth suddenly asked. The Labyrinth turned back expectantly. "What must I do to make you mine? For our third request, I plead that you tell me. I will not see this kingdom fall because of the malignity of one man and the incompetence of another. What must I do to gain your allegiance? Your assistance?"

"My allegiance?" she asked, curiosity piqued. Jareth paused and bit his cheek. He didn't like the look in her eye.

"Yes. If I cannot make you mine, then I must ask for your support, to help me heal this land before its wounds become putrid," he said. The Labyrinth's expression lightened then, a new brightness to her smoldering eyes.

"What then would you propose?" she asked, as if restraining excessive glee. Oh, how perfect. Absolutely perfect. Jareth didn't seem to notice her reaction however, his own posture tense and his expression deeply troubled. He hated what he was about to say.

"Strike with me a bargain," he said. "Pledge fealty to me. Serve me as a subject of this land and help me to do what I cannot. You will be free. You will _choose_ to serve me. We will work together, and your reins...I will do my best to help you manage them to the best of my ability. We will find balance. We will make it work. If there is no other way, then do this. Please. I beg of you."

The Labyrinth's smile continued to grow as Jareth spoke. She could see within him a desperation and humility that he did not often show and knew enough to appreciate its presence now. She reveled in the way he scowled, in the defeat he perceived himself to be in. It reminded her so much of his father.

She glanced to the floor and stifled a laugh. Well...now they were getting somewhere.

* * *

"So...what you're telling me is to just look though this hole, point and-" Mariella jumped at the sound of the shudder. Startling back, she turned the device and tilted her head at the blank photo that then shot out.

"Yup. See, you're a pro already," Sarah said, trying her best not to mock the poor woman as she struggled with what to do next.

"But I don't...I don't understand. This card is blank," she said, pulling the photo from its slot and inspecting it closely. Sarah leaned forward and rested her jaw on the heel of her hand.

"Give it a minute. It has to develop. Just make sure not to actually touch it. You'll ruin it that way."

Mariella nodded and handled the photo carefully, setting the odd contraption on the couch beside her. She waited, staring at it expectantly and her eyes widened when an image of Sarah started to come into view.

"My, what magic is this? A tiny painting?!" she asked. Sarah laughed then. Her expression...it was priceless.

"It's not magic, I told you. It's technology. And it's not a painting. It's called a photograph, like the one of my family over there."

Mariella nodded but she was only half listening. This device...she'd never seen anything like it. And this..._photo_? It was so alien to her. She stared at it intently, watching as the image became crisp and defined. She smiled then, amazed by the somewhat grumpy looking Sarah that stared back at her.

"Astounding," she mumbled, totally entranced. Sarah leaned forward and moved from the chair to the couch, curious to actually get a look at this one. Mariella peered up as Sarah sat next to her. "And... such machines exist in your world? Without magic?" she asked. Sarah nodded.

"Mhm. Actually, this thing here is kind of like a toy. Some of the pro models, well, you think you're amazed now," she said, successfully gaining all of Mariella's attention.

"What?" she asked. Sarah smiled wider.

"Yea. But not just the cameras, printers too. In my world, there are machines that allow you to print photos like this the size of billboards, ten, even twenty feet high!" she explained. Mariella's gaping expression reached its limit, something Sarah never thought possible. She proceeded to take great satisfaction in it.

"But- a painting of that scale would take weeks. Months even!" she exclaimed. Sarah shrugged dismissively.

"Yeah, but with a good enough printer you could make something like that in no time at all. A few hours, maybe a day depending on the size." She was totally bullshitting right now. In truth, she knew nothing about printing processes and was pretty sure that billboards were put up in pieces, but still. No sense in crushing Mariella's wonder. It wasn't often someone was actually intrigued by her home world. "But all that is nothing. Everyone in my world has a camera like this. If you want to see something truly amazing, I'll have to get my hands on a video recorder, or a TV even. Now I'm sure that would have your jaw dropping." Mariella looked over with a puzzled brow.

"Video recorder? TV? What are those?" she asked.

"A video...well, rather than just capturing a single image, videos are like...recorded sequences. If we had one, I could record our whole conversation right now and play it back to you. That's what the TV is for. You record something with one device and play it back on the other," she explained, as simply as she knew how. Actually, thinking of how to word all of this made her realize just how ignorant of her own technology she really was. Good thing Mariella had no means of checking her sources.

Mariella eased back and reached for the camera again.

"I see. How interesting. We have something similar to that...we call them projections, however it is done with magic. Who would have thought one could come so far with mere mechanics alone," she said, pointing the camera directly in Sarah's face and taking another picture. Sarah blinked and scowled, blinded by the flash. "Nevertheless, I would love to experience these devices. I do not possess that level of magic, but perhaps His Majesty can conjure them for you as he has done this?" she suggested. Sarah, still adjusting her eyes, rose her brow and glanced away.

"Yeah...maybe. The TV wouldn't work though. They run on electricity and I'm pretty sure there are no outlets here," she said. Mariella frowned.

"Electricity? Yes, I believe you mentioned that. How strange," she said, distracting herself by taking random candids about the room. "Perhaps we can find a way to make them run on magic instead?" she added. Sarah peered over.

"Huh? You think that's possible?" she asked. Making Aboveground devices function in the castle? Actually, that would make her life a hundred times better. She could finally get a freaking hairdryer! She just never thought that would be an option. This place was pretty medieval, but at the same time Sarah really had no idea of their technological advancement. Mariella nodded from behind the camera.

"I don't see why not. We have machines as well, however, as I've said they are mostly powered by magic. I assume objects from both your world and ours operate on the same principles. But regardless, I think it's something definitely worth looking into, wouldn't you say?"

Sarah nodded silently, not expecting to feel half as excited as she did. This could change everything. Screw the hairdryer, she could watch movies! Play music! Oh my god...

"Sarah? Are you okay?"

Sarah blinked out of her stupor and realized she was making quite a ghastly expression. She shook her head and slapped a smile on her face.

"Yeah. I'm great. Just thinking about all the things I could show you if it worked," she said. Marie smiled in return.

"But not just me. You could show His Majesty these things too, no?" she suggested, teasingly, her smile becoming playful when Sarah's fell flat.

"I -uh...I guess," she said, darting her eyes away awkwardly.

"Should I not have brought him up?" Mariella asked, eyeing Sarah's mannerisms for insight. She'd been...very calm these past couple days. While that should have been a good thing, Mariella knew otherwise. The wedding was tonight, in only a few short hours, and she couldn't help but feel that rather than dilly-dallying, they were in fact wading in the eye of a storm.

"Why would you ask that?" Sarah asked nervously and stood from the couch. She seemed anxious all of the sudden. Mariella frowned.

"Just...under the circumstances...I wanted to make sure you were alright."

Yesterday had gone well. Sarah and His majesty had shown up to Master Roldan's lesson together, and Mariella thought that could only be a good thing. They got along well, better than she'd ever seen them actually. She could tell Sarah was nervous during the rehearsal, not that she would forget or mess up, but nervous that it was all finally happening. She wasn't...quite sure anymore what Sarah's feelings on the matter were. She had her principles yes, but had they changed as her affections for His Majesty grew? She was speaking of love and a future with him but two days ago after all. However, she never got the chance to ask. After the lesson, His Majesty had stolen Sarah away -for lunch he'd said, though Marie found that doubtful. Out of curtesy she stayed away, waiting for the moment Sarah should summon her. She didn't. She was worried, though had the misfortune of running into and thus expressing such concerns to Master Roldan, who had promptly insisted Sarah not be bothered and was allowed to get a good night's sleep. So, as it were, Mariella hadn't bothered to report to her today until mid-afternoon. It was currently 2 pm and the wedding...began at dusk.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Sarah said, tersely, her eyes on the floor as she paced around the couch. Mariella's gaze followed.

"The ceremony...are you nervous?" she asked. Sarah cracked a smirk but didn't look back, apparently heading towards the dining table. "It's perfectly natural if you are."

"Nervous?" Sarah repeated, shaking her head as she poured them some tea. "I guess I'm a little nervous. It's not like a wedding in my world, we're dealing with an actual spirit...or creature...whatever. It's something your people revere and fear even, and I don't even know what it looks like. I guess I'm just intimidated," she finished, concealing the deep breath she then took. Mariella frowned harder.

"That's not what I meant," she said. Sarah paused, her gaze vacant as she stared out the window across from her.

"Oh...then are you referring to the fact that tonight not only will my fate be sealed, but I will be the one sealing it? And that come tomorrow I'll be forced to accept that the bed I lay in is undoubtedly the bed I made?" she asked, turning away from the window sharply with cups in hand. Marie's brow furrowed as she approached.

"Yes," she said, glancing down as she accepted her cup. Sarah moved to sit in the chair adjacent.

"I can't exactly cry about it," she said, something that surprised Mairella greatly. She peered up expectantly. Sarah was staring into her cup and shrugged. "I will still say that I'm against this marriage, and I always thought that come this day Jareth would have to drag me down the aisle kicking and screaming...but he's not. I'm not putting up an ounce of fight," she said, politely sipping her tea. Mariella found this behavior worrying and kept her expression stern.

"...Why not?" she asked. Again Sarah shrugged.

"Because...aside from the principle of it, it's rather pointless isn't it? If I were to actually put up a fight, crash my own wedding and ruin everything, what will that earn me? Pride? I'll also earn Jareth's retaliation. At least this way I'll gain some real social standing. I'll have freedom that is actually acknowledged by society, freedom the Jareth can't simply take away be it his whim. Realistically, this is my best option. It just...sucks that _this_ is _my best_ option."

"Have you thought about escaping?" Mariella asked. Sarah's eyes seemed to glaze over as she stared at her drink.

"I used to...I haven't...taken those thoughts seriously though. I just don't have the means. That could change once we're married but...Roldan already explained it, you were there. Being married would link us together. Even if I ever did manage to return home, there would be nothing stopping Jareth from popping up and taking me right back," she said. Mariella pursed her lips.

"You're resentful then?"

Sarah rolled her eyes, her fingers tapping against her cup.

"I guess...deep down. Right now I just feel...tired of it all. I feel like I've been fighting a pointless battle, and yes I am annoyed that Jareth has succeeded in making me feel that way, but...if I'm going to bother picking my battles, I'd rather save my energy for one I might actually win," she explained.

"Working strategically now? And how have you factored His Majesty into all this?" Marie asked. She seemed unusually focused, though Sarah had yet to pick up on it. She looked over towards the empty fireplace.

"...I...I don't know. I'm...angry but...mostly now I'm just...disappointed. Disappointed that he was the one who put me in this position, because I know...no matter how well we get along, this is a decision that Jareth will never budge on. He may regret kidnapping me, feel guilty about what he's put me through, but he'll never regret it enough to let me go, or to offer me the chance to make the decision for myself."

"Perhaps he's just afraid of what your answer would be?"

Sarah peered over, one brow raised.

"But that's the point. He would give me the chance only if he was certain my answer would be his answer and that's no different than keeping me here against my will. What's the phrase, kill her with kindness? Even if I ever do decide that this is the place I want to be, and by his side no less, it will never be enough for me to forget or to forgive him," she said, matter-of-factly. Mariella nodded. It seemed she'd thought all this over quite thoroughly.

"I see...have you thought about what it would take? To forgive him -I mean," she asked. Sarah laughed then, a slightly exasperated huff.

"Heh, thought about it? I think about it constantly," she replied. She was shaking her head, a faint smile lurking behind her tea cup. Mariella...wasn't sure how to interpret it.

"Well...at least that means you haven't ruled it out completely," she said, feigning reassurance. Sarah glanced up, half-surprised by her statement.

"I guess," she mumbled, her attention soon to drift away. It was quiet for a moment, each with plenty of thought to occupy them.

"Um, Sarah?"

Sarah glanced over. She'd been zoning out for a few minutes and was thus concerned to find a look of discomfort twisting Mariella's face.

"Hm?" she asked, eyeing the way Marie's fingers tapped nervously against her cup.

Mariella bit her lip and looked to the side.

"Forgive me...I have been selfish," she said, forcing a smile before looking back. "I wanted to inquire on your well-being, though...it was for my own purposes and it seems I've put a damper on your mood when I should be trying to make you feel as optimistic as possible," she said, shrugging in defeat. Sarah furrowed her brow a little.

"What are you talking about?" she asked. Marie had started tapping her fingers again, only now it was antsy.

"I...have a favor to ask but...I didn't want to without first knowing whether or not you would be okay..." she said, her voice trailing off. Sarah grew more interested.

"What is it?" she asked. Marie let out a swift exhale, though Sarah couldn't figure out what could be making her so nervous.

"Um...Forgive me...I know this is ill-timed, but I received a letter from my mother several days ago...requesting that I return home."

Sarah blinked. She hadn't expected that, but more...she didn't understand why Marie looked so disconcerted.

"Really?" she asked. Marie took in another breath and huffed. Apparently, this had been quite the weight on her shoulders.

"It seems...my father has taken ill. I was not going to respond...my mother can be a bit dramatic at times but...I've since received a second letter and now...I'm worried," she explained, keeping her eyes averted as she spoke. Her family's summons couldn't have come at a worse time. To leave her lady's charge at a time like this...it was bad form to say the least. Sarah however, was feeling concern over a different matter.

"What?" she asked, leaning forward in her seat as if the man's life depended on it. "Is he okay? Is that why you packed up your painting so quickly? What do you mean you weren't going to go? Of course you should go!" she exclaimed, setting her cup down and glaring at Marie fiercely. Mariella was a bit taken back.

"But- Sarah-"

"No buts," Sarah interrupted. "As if you would need my permission! You don't need to ask me to leave, especially if it's a family matter," she said, sternly, still unable to understand why Mariella looked so damn put off. She watched as she glanced away with a nervous smile.

"Yes, of course. It's just...this is a very delicate time for you and I didn't want you to feel...left alone," she said, glancing away as if she were ashamed to have such a concern. "I wanted to make sure you were going to be okay tonight before bringing it up..."

"I'm fine," Sarah stated. Mariella glanced back up to her fiery stare like a poor little lamb. "And even if I wasn't, your family needs your attention more than I do. Your dad is sick. All I have to do is say _I do_. Geez. You should have said something earlier," she scolded. It blew her mind how Mariella could put her well-being over her own family's. She just couldn't-

"Yes...forgive me."

"Stop." Sarah glared, feeling the need to instill some firm discipline of her own. "There's no reason to feel guilty and you shouldn't have been worried about asking me. You said they sent you a letter a few days ago? How long would it take to get there?" she asked, about ready to kick her butt out the door that very instant. Mariella looked uncertain.

"Um...I could be there within a few hours actually...but, Sarah, are you sure? My family...I am not very close with them. If you were to desire my presence here instead I would have no qualms," she explained. Actually, that was what she would prefer. She hadn't seen her family in over thirty years and had little desire to change that. True, her mother's second letter did worry her, but that was partly the reason why she was hoping Sarah might _order_ her to stay. That's when she remembered it was Sarah she was dealing with.

"Are you kidding?" Sarah asked, beside herself. "We just got done talking about how my family was taken away and you think I'm going to just sit by and keep you from yours? Seriously?" she asked with disbelief. Mariella shrugged and smiled awkwardly. It seemed she had been found after all.

"Ah, I suppose that was rather foolish of me," she said, raising a hand to the back of her head as she glanced away again. Sarah stared at her for a moment, her eyes narrowed, and then she threw herself back in her chair.

"How long will it take you to pack? You could leave right now if you want," she said, rather underhandedly. She was getting the feeling Marie might have been hoping for a different response. That was her mistake, even if she was just doing it as a formality, if she didn't want to go she shouldn't have bothered "asking" Sarah about it at all.

"Oh, no. That is not necessary..." Mariella said, waving her hands and glancing back with a smile. "And besides, who would dress you tonight? Certainly not Master Roldan," she said, a comment that almost tripped Sarah up. She hid her stumble well. "No...I don't see that ending well at all," Marie continued. "If it would be alright, I should like to stay with you for today. With your blessing, I can leave first thing in the morning."

"You sure?" Sarah asked. Mariella nodded.

"Yes, and I shall return as soon as possible. But...if you should need me, please do not hesitate to summon me back," she said. Sarah crossed her arms over her chest.

"Do you have any idea how long you'll be gone?" Mariella drew her brow.

"Ah...A couple days I believe. No more. It would be improper to ignore my duties any longer than that," she said. Sarah rolled her eyes.

"_Pf._ Screw your duties," she said, waving a hand through the air and earning a rather shocked expression from Marie. "All you do is hang out with me, you can take as much time as you need. Don't worry about it. And if anyone has anything to say then they'll have _The Queen_ to deal with, right?" she added, eyeing her intently for emphasis. Mariella pursed her lips. No doubt, Sarah was using this as a distraction from her own problems. Actually, that made Marie happy, as it seemed it had given her some strength. Well then, all's well that ends well.

"Alright," Marie answered, her smile now genuine. Sarah stood and placed her hands on her hips.

"Well, come on then. We've still got a few more hours to kill and I'd rather not sit here pining. I'll help you pack," she said, turning swiftly towards the door. Mariella too stood and followed after her, surprised and yet not surprised at all. This girl...this girl was her queen and yet she was also...her friend.

* * *

Mariella's room was much different than Sarah's. It was small, though still quite spacious compared to what she was used to in the Aboveground. She'd only been there a couple of times...it seemed Marie might've been ashamed to have her there, but Sarah didn't mind. In fact, she found it intriguing.

She didn't have many belongings, merely the things she kept with her at Davion's and, apparently, she'd shared a room with several other girls. It shouldn't and wouldn't have taken long to pack for a three-day journey, but both knew this wasn't really about packing. Is was a distraction. That was why Marie was only all too eager to help Sarah rummage through her things, providing detailed and elaborate stories for every knick-knack and doo-dad Sarah happened to find interest in. However, even with all of that, this venture was doomed to be a short one and things were starting to slow down. Mariella was busy packing her last trunk while Sarah sat off to the side, absently toying with a hair bobble that, apparently, had been given to her by the great Lord Orenai a grand one-hundred years ago.

"So...you have a lot of presents from exes, don't you?" Sarah asked. Mariella smiled.

"Yes, I suppose I do. Men put notches in their headboards. I collect hair pins," she said, jokingly. Sarah smiled in return.

"Have you ever..." she said, and then she stopped. Marie glanced back, sensing something curious about her tone.

"Ever what?"

Sarah shook her head and smiled again, piquing Marie's interest further.

"Don't take this the wrong way but...have you ever actually...loved any of these men? Or were they just jobs? Part of the lifestyle I guess?" Marie smiled again, actually flattered by her question.

"It's quite alright. No. I have never fallen in love with any of my lords," she responded, eyeing Sarah playfully when she looked up worriedly.

"Really?" she asked. Mariella nodded and moved to sit on the rim of the trunk.

"Don't get me wrong, I've met and served some truly wonderful lords. However I...have always done my best to choose those who are less inclined to...choose me in return," she said, but now Sarah looked even more uncertain.

"Why?" she asked. Mariella shrugged.

"I find that it's...easier that way. There are some in my profession who truly desire to become chosen by their lord. They fall in love and either get exactly what they want or are crushed by it. I am still quite young and I find...I enjoy my lifestyle precisely the way it is. I told you before, I don't particularly want to be married. I chose this path because it was asked of me, and I continued it because it was fun. I suppose that was why I was so drawn to Lord Davion. We understood each other, wanted the same things. I hope you don't think less of me for this but...I think it would really be quite troublesome to fall in love."

_You can say that again..._

Sarah blinked and shot her head up, biting the inside of her cheek in a moment of panic as she tried to figure out whether or not she'd said that out loud. Mariella looked distracted, glancing off to the side as she thought over whatever it was that was making her smile and it seemed, even if she had said it out loud, that the words went unheard. Sarah sighed, the feeling of her heartbeat more prevalent from the minor spike in adrenaline. She gripped the hair pin tighter, irritated she'd had the thought at all.

"I don't think less of you..." she started, her eyes falling on the trinket as she pondered. "I admire it actually, the fact that you were able to take your life in your own hands like that, to do what makes you happy and not be judged for it. And now here you are, employed to be my friend," she said, not meaning to sound as pathetic as she did. She smiled though, and looked up to Marie. "I suppose things will get quite boring for you with just Roldan around," she said, jokingly. Mariella laughed in agreement.

"Boring? I suppose there may be lulls. However, there are always balls to go to, things to celebrate. But who knows? Perhaps in the meantime Master Roldan will be able to hold my interest."

Sarah's brow shot up at that.

"Wait are you serious?" she asked, mildly appalled. Mariella started to snicker.

"Why not? Like you said, it's just him, just I. I see no reason why we can't use that to our advantage, unless you forbade it, of course." The playfulness in her voice was only growing, but Sarah still couldn't figure out if she was joking.

"W-what? I-I don't care what you do!" Sarah said, awkwardly, uncomfortably and with minor duress. Her and Jareth's conversation the other night wasn't helping either. Mariella continued to laugh. It was too easy to tease her.

"Ah, but alas, rest easy milady. There will be no such dalliance within these hallowed halls," she said, waving a persnickety finger from side to side. Sarah didn't mean to sigh with relief, but she did.

"Yeah? Can you not mess with me then? Thinking about that kind of grosses me out," she said, looking away and shaking her head. Mariella pursed her lips and went back to packing.

"Very well. Master Roldan is far too principled anyway. No, I get the feeling he prefers his women in white."

Sarah narrowed her eyes. Mariella had her back turned to her now, but Sarah knew she had one hell of a grin plastered on her face.

"Oh really? White you say?" she asked, suspiciously. Mariella kept on packing.

"Mhm. Master Roldan seems to have unquestionable standards. I feel the women he _offers the privilege_ of taking to bed must be nothing less than saints. Do you not agree?" she asked. Sarah hesitated for a moment, anticipating her response to have been something else.

"Uh, yea, I guess," she said, distractedly. Mariella smiled again.

"Or were you perhaps thinking of the little prank I pulled on him at your fitting?" she asked, her voice quirking mischievously. Sarah scowled.

"So you admit it?" she asked. Mariella stood to close the trunk then turned around with a look of satisfaction.

"Of course. I thought it would be amusing."

Sarah crossed her arms then, debating whether or not to accuse she and Jareth of being in on it together, or if making their pitiful relationship dynamics a whole lot more awkward was just a happy coincidence.

"At my expense?" she asked. Mariella frowned.

"Expense? Were you not flattered? You seemed insecure. I thought seeing a man's reaction to you would make you feel better and when I realized the only male present was Master Roldan, well...come now, you must agree if it was at any one's expense it was certainly his," she said, and it was then that Sarah realized mischievousness was a definite trait of the entire Fae race. She found herself smiling in spite of herself.

"I never pegged you to be such a rascal. I do say, it's surprising," Sarah said. Mariella smiled widely.

"I've been known to have my moments."

"Is that why you looked so concerned? Because you got him in trouble afterwards?" she asked. Mariella paused and this time it was Sarah who grinned. She glanced away and sagged in defeat.

"I suppose I did feel a bit guilty. I never expected His Majesty to be watching. Though it seemed...His Majesty found it quite amusing as well," she said, turning away to finish gathering her things. Sarah didn't respond to that, already knowing Jareth's feelings on the matter first hand. That's when something else came to mind, something she was...more hesitant in asking.

"Hey, Marie," she said, keeping her eyes aloof when Marie glanced back.

"Yes?"

"How have my pheromones been?"

Mariella blinked. What an odd question.

"What do you mean?" she replied. Sarah rose a brow and leaned back.

"I mean...have you been able to sense them? How good am I at concealing them?" she clarified. Mariella turned to face her more fully.

"You've been...doing very well. Actually I...haven't sensed anything from you in quite a while. You're doing a splendid job," she said, both to Sarah's relief and worry. She furrowed her brow then and played with the bobble more intently.

"Good...that's good..." she mumbled.

"Any reason why you would ask?" Mariella turned away then, though her eyes lingered from her peripheral. Sarah was being very inquisitive today and she had a feeling some of her questions may have more purpose than serving as a simple distraction. Sarah turned in her seat and glanced out the window behind her.

"Not really...I was just curious...about...what it feels like," she said, cautiously. Marie furrowed her brow.

"What it feels like? You mean your pheromones?" she asked. Sarah nodded.

"Yea. I was just...wondering, because I...can't sense them. I was wondering what is was like."

Yes, to her understanding Sarah knew exactly what experiencing pheromones was like. However, with Jareth as her only resource she couldn't be totally sure. He'd asked her to trust him, and in the moment she had, but now...she wanted a second opinion.

Marie pursed her lips and she stuffed some bits of cloth into a bag.

"Well...it depends really. It depends on the situation and on the feelings being expressed," she said.

Sarah became more attentive.

"Really? Could you explain a few?" she asked.

"Of course. Anger, for instance, is...well, it's like being hit with an immeasurable force. The stronger the anger, the heavier, harder the impact. It engulfs you...depending on the nature of the anger, it can either be revolting or intoxicating."

"The nature of the anger?" Sarah repeated. Mariella nodded.

"Mhm. If it is true animosity, true hatred, it creates a feeling of illness. However...if the anger is out of passion it can become overwhelming...suffocating, like a terrible humidity," she explained and Sarah's brow drew. "If you happen to be wondering...the instances I've experienced at least, your own anger stems from the latter," she added, and Sarah would have been embarrassed if she hadn't already guessed that to be the case. She'd acknowledged from day one that, for whatever reason, she could never bring herself to truly hate Jareth. Even...at his worst. Perhaps that was the reason he responded to her fits the way he did, why it always ended up so sexual. She didn't think it could be that simple, but was he really so easy to manipulate?

"I see...what about other emotions?" she asked.

"Well, other than anger, the two strongest would be sadness and fear, both of which are very unpleasant to experience. It's like an instinct. When we sense another's fear, it brings forth a rush of anxiety and adrenaline, as if we are being called to save whatever is in distress. However, this is not alwats the case, and so instead if leaves us with a terrible ache. A jolt of unease that can be sickening. As for sadness...like anger, it's a weight upon ones chest. It's...quite an unpleasant experience. We typically don't emit these signals though...only in extreme instances. It's different for someone like you however. I find it hard to believe really, how His Majesty endured it all. Please, do not take offense when I say this, but I can understand why His Majesty would have wanted you to start restraining them as soon as possible."

Sarah hummed as she thought all this over. She didn't realize it was such a big deal. Neither did she realize it happened differently for each emotion. And here she thought it was only sexual.

"Hm...That's...tough. All this time I thought it was just a mating call," she said. Mariella turned and shot her a grin.

"Oh, it can be much more than that," she said. Sarah leaned up a little.

"Yea? How so?" she asked. They were nearing the objective she'd been waiting to get to. Understanding responses to emotions was all well and good, but that wasn't where her concern laid. Marie smiled again and her eyes lowered.

"Feelings of desire can be...quite exhilarating. They are very strong. Yes, a percentage is used as a mating call, but when it's actually released? Well, there's just nothing you can do."

"That powerful huh?" Sarah asked, smiling at the way Marie was so obviously recalling a memory.

"Oh yes, the most exquisite drug."

"I see...that must make your job worthwhile then huh? Drunk on each other's pheromones every night?"

Mariella looked up then, the wayward smile leaving her face.

"Oh, no, it's not like that. We use our signals as a means of expressing our interest, however they are for the most part kept restrained during actual coupling."

Sarah stared at her most confusedly.

"W-huh? But I...I thought..." Now that didn't make any sense to her. What Jareth had said...what they'd done.

"Yes, I can assume what you would think, but sadly this is not the case. We are typically not such gluttons. Raw pheromones of this nature...well, quite simply they are too powerful. They contain the purest of our emotions and... can be quite dangerous should we expose them to the wrong person. That is why...an equal exchange of pheromones is reserved for moments of extreme intimacy...It is considered an act of trust and an expression of love."

"Love?" Sarah asked, her eyes going wide as a heavy weight fell hard to the pit of her stomach. Mariella nodded.

"Mhm. It's very sweet and so romantic. And the feeling? Oh, I can't even begin to describe...it gives me chills just thinking about it."

Sarah frowned then, for more reasons than one.

"But...if it's an act of love...I thought you said you've never been in love?" she asked. She did her best to quell the alarm steadily building in her. She couldn't -couldn't face it right now. Mariella smiled again and turned away, apparently feeling a bit bashful.

"It is an act of love yes. However, that doesn't necessarily mean you have to _be_ in love to do so. Sometimes...it's just a way of connecting with someone. Of being honest with yourself and another person. And besides...I said I've never been in love with my lords. I said nothing of my time before becoming a courtesan."

"Heh, so you don't say? ... Can I ask who's the lucky fellow?" Sarah asked, beyond awkwardness. She glanced away, her efforts in fighting off anxiety only giving it strength. She couldn't deny it was her own fault though. She had asked the question. Damn it. She did not need to be thinking about this right now...She needed Marie to tell her a story, punch her in the face, anything to distract her.

"Let's see...it was so very long ago. Ah, yes. His name was Arethon. For a time, he was very close to me."

"What happened?" Sarah asked.

"Quite simply, we were childhood lovers. His family worked for mine, his parents were servants in our home, so we were essentially raised together. When I made the decision to become a courtesan...he was very supportive."

"You chose to leave even though you loved him?" Sarah asked. Marie paused for a moment, but then a look of complacency soothed her features.

"Well...it wasn't so simple. You see, a prominent lord in our land offered my father the proposition of me becoming one of his wards. My father expressed to me his interest that I accept and I...wanted to make him happy. You see, I am the youngest and only daughter of my house. Not much is expected of me, aside from marriage. And I always...felt like I was being left behind I suppose. Nobody needed me, let alone wanted me," she explained, turning away slightly as she recalled the past. Sarah thought she may have seen her frown just then, but it was quickly replaced with a reassuring smile. "So, when my father finally gave me a duty, a way to further our house, I nearly jumped at the chance. I was...excited. I would get to see the world, meet so many new people, do so many things. My heart back then, not only was it young but it was adventurous and I knew...I knew Arethon was special to me, but we could not be together," she said, shaking her head slightly, though Sarah wasn't sure whom she was trying to convince. "He was of a lesser station than I and although royalty has the privilege of choosing their betrothed from whichever class, people of lesser ranks sadly do not. I expressed my feelings to Arethon and he supported me, agreed with my reasoning. He knew that leaving my father's island was the best thing for me and he cared for me enough to see that happen. The night before I left...I met with him in our usual spot. There he made me a promise, he said that he would do whatever it took to rise through the ranks and one day we would be able to meet face to face, and in that moment he would proclaim himself to be mine. In return I promised to wait for that moment. I would steel my heart and soften it only for him. Oh, it was so romantic. We spent the night together, and... for the first and only time, I shared my pheromones with another fully."

Sarah found herself blushing at Mariella's story and cursed herself for lacking the maturity to endure it. She'd heard sex stories from her friends before, but this bit of epic-ness she wasn't quite accustomed too.

"..W-What happened?" she asked. Mariella glanced down and her smile...it looked somewhat sad.

"...Several decades past. I hadn't seen nor spoken to Arethon. Until one day...I was at a gala in Erastor, under Lord Baremus. There I saw a man whom I recognized instantly. I approached him, my joy beyond restraint. You see, the gala was reserved for the upper aristocracy. The fact that my Arethon was there could only mean he'd gone up in station. I approached him and he turned to me but...instead of a smile I was greeted with a look of shock. I spoke to him, asked him a million questions all at once but he...he didn't say a word. I was confused and that was when a woman appeared, clinging tightly to his arm. She asked what was going on, why I was speaking to her husband and...I felt like such a fool. I apologized immediately and said we were childhood friends long since separated, that I was not aware he was wed. She forgave me of course, but Arethon...he remained cold to me. I learned later that shortly after I left, Arethon had joined the Masochist armada and proven quite the decorated soldier. He was quickly promoted to captain and given lands in the far south and...through the art of social politics even given the title of Baron. In only twenty years he'd become a baron! I couldn't believe it. But...instead of seeking me out like we'd promised...it seemed he developed a taste for his newfound wealth. He began to covet and showboat, even using his newly acquired position to persuade the neighboring landlord that his high-rise stature was well worth investing in. He married the landlord's daughter...the perfect trophy, and with her was soon to gain the title of Lord. My own father...he is merely an Earl. It seemed Arethon had kept at least part of his promise. He had risen through the ranks, only now he was of higher station than I and apparently, I was no longer worth the time." Mariella turned away then, her expression blank by the time her story concluded. Sarah just...stared at her.

"That's- that's terrible! Mariella I'm so sorry!" Sarah burst out, her eyes wide, her scowl intense. She never thought...Mariella was such a happy person! How could anyone do something so horrible to her!?

"Oh, don't be," Mariella said, casually waving her off. "Like I said, I was young, while I thought I was in love I later realized it was a mere infatuation. I was surprised to find my heart had remained fully intact that night. I suppose what really hurt was that he didn't have the common decency to let me know our plans had changed. If I hadn't run into him that night I might still be upholding that promise to this day! Could you imagine that?" she asked, her voice raising with absurdity. Sarah started to frown. She couldn't...couldn't tell if it was a front or not.

"No, but...still. That's shitty that he would betray you like that," she said, watching her carefully as Marie shrugged with indifference.

"Yes well, in retrospect I suppose I betrayed him first, leaving him behind to pursue a series of sexual transgressions in order to raise my family's position? Believe it or not, even here some cultural nuances are regarded differently between classes. To me it was practical, I suppose to him...not so. Or perhaps he felt the same as I. Perhaps his time in the world helped him to realize our affair was simply an affair. Perhaps he truly did love the landlord's daughter. For her sake I hope he does. I wouldn't fret about it too much. That was all so long ago and I never lost any sleep over it," she said, plainly. Sarah pursed her lips. It seemed she was being sincere...

"Huh...you're...a very interesting person Marie," Sarah said, shifting in her spot as she mulled all this over. "I don't think I could have handled a situation like that so...sensibly," she added on. She tried but just couldn't quite accept that Marie was really so apathetic, but maybe...maybe that was the real reason she avoided love?

"But that's what makes me so good at what I do," Mariella said. Sarah peered up. "I suppose however, things _would_ be drastically different should I ever truly love someone. I was with Arethon mostly out of familiarity. However, as I recall, there was no spark, no real sense of longing between us. Of all the men I've served, I could easily have done without them. Believe me, each one of them had desirable traits, perfectly good qualities that could be loved. I just...did not. I think you know by now that I'm a bit of a romantic. When it comes to something like love...I imagine as though it is something inherent, something you just know from the bottom of your heart. There doesn't need to be reason for it. It just...is. And I've, well I have yet to experience something like that and until I do, I believe it is something I am perfectly capable of living without." She spoke so certainly, with such optimism. Sarah wished she could be more like her.

"I see...you have a very strong character. Good for you," she said, not quite sure where her feelings on this matter truly lay. Mariella turned around and wiggled her nose.

"Or maybe I'm just extremely picky," she said, jokingly. Sarah smiled and eased up a bit. Maybe she was just resilient.

"Hm, or that."

Mariella began to approach her, placing her final bag atop the pile when something caught her eye. Her brow rose and she perked up a bit.

"Oh, would you look at the time!" she exclaimed. Sarah peered over to the clock. "We best head back to your room. It will be twilight soon and we still have to get you ready!" she said, quickly shooing her out of her seat. Sarah rose her hands up in submission and quickly shuffled out the door.

* * *

Sarah's dress had been delivered early that morning, however Mariella did well to keep it out of sight. It was tense enough having to count down the hours and she figured Sarah could do without the totem. She waited patiently while Mariella unpacked it, her eyes repeatedly drifting to her reflection in the vanity mirror as she sat on the end of her bed.

"Oh my...look how lovely this turned out," Mariella said. Sarah slouched a little.

"It looks exactly the same as it did last time," she said, rising to her feet begrudgingly and started to remove her clothes. Marie rolled her eyes.

"Of course, of course," she murmured, turning away to give Sarah privacy. She heard some shuffling, a few shimmies...

"Alright...zip me up."

Mariella turned to find Sarah standing achingly, trying her best not to grimace as she thought of the sight she must be. Marie hustled over practically bounding on her toes.

"Zip? There are no zippers on this dress Sarah," Marie said, shaking her head as if something were funny. Sarah sighed and straightened her back. Rather than ties or buttons, the dress Sarah had chosen was fastened with a series of unbelievably tiny hooks. Even with Mariella's dexterous hands, it took her a few minutes.

"Alright...deep breath..." Sarah stood as tall as she could as Marie fastened the last few hooks. She tried to exhale then but found it...difficult.

"Say...is this tight enough?" Sarah asked, strenuously, placing her hands on her ribs as she tried to breathe. Mariella stepped around her.

"It will loosen up once you start walking around..." she said, and then covered her mouth with her hands.

"Oh my...Look how lovely you are. The fits is just perfect," she said, her eyes lighting up with delight. Sarah's expression contrasted it perfectly. She turned then, just slightly, and her eyes caught on her reflection. She tried her best to look away but... "Now, how should we do your hair?" Mariella asked, thankfully taking Sarah's attention away from the mirror. She turned back around and forced a smile.

"Um...I don't know..." she said, taking a few steps forward just to see if she could. Marie began to shuffle around her.

"Up perhaps? You hardly wear your hair up. However...no. No, I think down will be much more suitable. Perhaps in waves. Your hair is so long, oh I bet that would look marvelous!" she said, clapping her hands together as she thought it all over. Sarah continued to look over herself. This dress, it was...very beautiful.

"Whatever you think is best," she said, absently. She twirled the skirt a little as Marie gathered her supplies, and was thankful that the bodice was the only part that constricted her.

Unlike the current popular trend, Sarah had chosen a gown with a full skirt, with a fairly long train in the back. It was more familiar to her. She wasn't sure what material it was made of, certainly not anything she'd ever seen, but she couldn't deny how lovely it was. It was light, so light that when she walked the skirt seemed to ripple behind her, like drifting through water. It shimmered and it was soft...but not quite like silk. To her it felt like a flower petal, delicate and creamy. As she looked over it she realized she had to give props to Talnah, the little lady definitely had her work cut out for her. Yes, it was tight, but it was still extremely comfortable. Although it was strapless, it felt secure and she didn't even need a corset, or bustier -whatever the hell she'd had to wear last time- to keeps her bits in check. _Hmph_, it was pathetic. She'd told herself not to bother taking an interest and yet, like always, that was the exact opposite of what happened.

She was still watching the slow waves of her skirt as it rippled through the air when Mariella's hands were suddenly in her hair.

"Alright...try to stand still. This shouldn't take too long," she said, combing her hands through her hair and working that convenient cosmetic magic of hers. Sarah, like the doll she was, stood there and posed quietly. "Have you thought about what jewelry you'll wear?" Marie asked. Sarah shook her head.

"Not particularly," she answered. Mariella peered around to see she was frowning.

"I noticed you're not wearing your mother's necklace today," she said. Sarah peered down, one hand curling over her abdomen.

"Yeah...I took it off before bed last night and this morning..." Her voice drifted off, letting Mariella know something heavy played on her mind.

"You don't want to wear it?" she asked, curiously. Sarah rose a brow and looked away.

"No. Not today." Mariella pursed her lips.

"Why not? I thought it was important to you? Surely, if there was ever a time to wear it, today would be it," she said, tilting her head as she ran her fingers through Sarah's hair. Sarah's gaze continued to lower.

"That's the thing. What today is...what it symbolizes? My wedding...it should be a good thing. It should be something that brings us together, where I can feel the love of my family supporting me. But this...this is not something I want to celebrate, I can't feel their love. We are not being brought together, tonight cements the barrier that keeps us apart and...Wearing that necklace tonight...would only remind me of it."

She spoke plainly, but the inherent solemnity of her words had Mariella frowning in return. She paused in her efforts, trying to think of something to say.

"I see...I suppose I understand...you don't want to taint your last token of them by something you view as a...condemnation," she said, glancing away.

"Exactly."

"Perhaps something else then? Have you bothered to look through your jewelry boxes since last time?" Mariella asked, having no other ideas than blatant deflection. She spoke assuringly, and it seemed it worked, as Sarah glanced back with apparent interest.

"No...I'm sure you can find something nice though," she said. Mariella smiled weakly, then pulled her hands from her hair.

"Of course...All done. Why don't you take a look at yourself while I do some rummaging?" she suggested, turning away sharply. Sarah rose her brow, surprised Marie had finished so quickly, and then wallowed over to the mirror, taking a seat as she inspected each and every of Mariella's perfectly formed waves. She knew it was with magic but still it boggled her every time, how she was able to do this with just her hands. She glanced over, watching as Mariella collected precious gems from her jewelry box, and thought she might as well make herself useful by starting on her make up.

"Do you have a preference Sarah?" Mariella asked. "Silver? Gold?"

Sarah peered over, then looked over herself.

"Mm...Nothing gold...I don't think gold would match the dress."

"Ah, I agree. Well then, your gown is quite classic, we wouldn't want to overdo it with a big statement piece. How about this?" she asked, turning and offering to her a number of chains that dangled from each of her fingers. Sarah inspected them carefully.

"...That one's kind of nice," she said, pointing to a thin silver chain. A small pendant hung from the end, a pearl and diamond amidst a delicate metal weaving. Marie smiled in agreement.

"Perfect. It's even got matching earrings," she said, turning away to return the rest of the options. Sarah looked back to the mirror, a powdery brush in hand, and her eyes, her eyes became fixated.

"Say...Marie?" she asked, peering down as a finger caressed a small wooden box. "Do you think...it would look okay to put these in my hair? Or would it be too much?" she asked, undoing the latch and opening the box for her to see. Mariella paused before answering. She knew those flowers were from her friends and were thus very precious to her. She also knew that she hadn't spoken a word of them but once quite some time ago.

"I think...that would look very nice. The finishing touch," she said. Sarah pursed her lips and hummed, but not without revealing a small frown. Her gaze was lost in worrying thoughts, her fingers lightly tapping against the rip of the box.

"Could you...do it for me?" she asked, hesitantly. Mariella nodded then stood, reaching over carefully and selected the flowers one by one.

"You would not have reminders of your family present at your wedding, but you would have those of your companions?" she asked. Sarah shrugged slightly. Should she bother telling her it was Jareth's idea?

"Actually..." she started, then quickly changed directions. "I still have to face them. They're not something I have to leave behind...hopefully."

"Face them? You mean because of His Majesty?" Marie asked. Sarah's brow drew, just enough to show her uncertainty.

"I suppose...I had seen them, the morning before I was taken. They gave me these and I said I would come see them again that night. It goes without saying I never showed. Before I knew, I was so worried about them, worried that they would be worried about me. I didn't want to reach out to them though, in case Jareth might retaliate."

"Before you knew?" Mariella asked. Sarah's eyes lowered.

"Before I knew they had been working for Jareth all along," she explained and Mariella nodded. The other night, she'd gone over this with Marie, but not in much detail. Again Mariella paused, though this time Sarah noticed. "Apparently, for whatever reason Jareth couldn't come to me until my eighteenth birthday, so he had my friends keep tabs on me. He said he never explicitly ordered them to do it, but he knew they would anyway. But that's not what bothered me. Well, not bothered me the most."

"What more is there?" Mariella asked. Sarah peered down to her box of flowers, nearly empty as Marie plucked the final few.

"I guess...and Jareth told me this so there is a good chance he's lying, but he told me he had my friends plan to revolt from the very start, that he'd placed and ordered them to help me from the beginning...I thought...I thought they cared about me enough to defy Jareth, but they didn't. It was all a part of his stupid game. He said he wanted me to win, you know that? He schemed up that whole mess for no good reason. Because he was bored he said, because I was just so tenacious he decided he wanted to see me win after all. It was like a freaking stage play, like I was a Goddamn rat in a maze! But I guess...I guess I can't say I know the whole truth. I still need to confront them about it and to let them know...I'm alright," she said, finishing up her rant with a sigh. Mariella, her task now complete, moved around and retook her seat beside the vanity.

"So why haven't you? You just said they were in league with His Majesty, what sort of retaliation could you be fretting about?" she asked.

"I don't know. None I guess," Sarah said, with a shrug. "I've just kinda...had my hands full lately. I haven't really thought about it. But I still...think it would be safer for them if I waited until after I'm made queen, you know?" she asked, Mariella nodded and reached out to help finish her make up.

"Hm, yes. I suppose it's better to be safe than sorry. But hey, after tonight you will be queen right? And...since I'm leaving...perhaps then would be a good time to have audience with them? It would be a good way to pass the time no doubt. And we wouldn't want you getting lonely," she said, halfway through painting Sarah's lips and thus making her returning look of realization an awkward one.

"Wha-You know what? That's a great idea actually! Maybe I will try to find them...I can write to you about it afterwards. Gives me something else to do," she said, her words coming out garbled as Marie fussed with making sure her lines were perfect. It was kind of funny, neither one of them had yet suggested she spend some of her time with Jareth, the man who would be her own husband.

"I'll be expecting to hear all about it," Marie said, pulling away with a look of satisfaction as she glossed over her handiwork. Sarah turned to look at herself, and again she was baffled by the talent of this woman.

"I don't know how you do it," Sarah said, turning from side to side in the mirror as if suspicious it was someone else staring back. "You make me look so pretty," she finished, revealing her first genuine smile of the evening. Marie sat back, steepling her fingers in restrained glee.

"It is my honor, but you were already pretty. If I could make a wish, it would be that you allow me to have fun like this more often. You have such fine bone structure," she said, standing to her feet and glancing towards the window. "The sun is setting," she said, earning a less enthused glanced from Sarah.

"Time to get going then?" she asked, standing stiffly as she let out a long breath. Alright. This was it. Here comes the freaking bride.

It was Marie who opened the door and entered the hall first. She stepped across the threshold but then stopped abruptly, nearly causing Sarah to trip into her. Sarah looked up and saw that her head was turned, her brow raised high.

"Oh. Master Roldan? What are you doing here?"

Sarah paused as well, a look of surprise mixed with a vague scowl marring her face. _Oh...great_. _What in the world does he want?_ She closed her eyes and braced herself before stepping out into the hall.

* * *

Roldan was scowling. Of course he was scowling, he'd been waiting for near ever. Women. They always took their sweet time, as if they hadn't had the entire day to prepare. Daylight was fading, its rescission turning the hall dark and gloomy. The torches flickered on, but their timed ignition didn't help his patience any. He closed his eyes and crossed his arms as he leaned against the wall. He could hear them shuffling from behind the door but not much else. It was annoying having to wait like this. It was such a stupid rule. He should just send a goblin to tell them to hurry up.

He sighed then. He was feeling agitated but it had nothing to do with being late. In all truth, they still had plenty of time. His fingers gripped his arms as he scowled. He could hear footsteps approaching. Well, it was about time.

"Oh. Master Roldan? What are you doing here?"

He peered up to find Mariella staring at him most confusedly. He rose a brow, about to reply something snarky when someone else came around the corner. He felt himself hesitate, his snide comment caught on his tongue, and he straightened himself up from against the wall.

She was staring at him with a frown but he...couldn't bring himself to look her in the eye.

"I've been waiting," he said, his gaze lowered as he bowed even lower before them. Sarah stood awkwardly, not knowing what was going on.

"For how long?" Sarah asked, eyeing him strangely as he gradually stood.

"As long as it took," he answered and offered out his hand. Sarah did not accept it.

"You could have knocked...you didn't have to just stand out in the hall," _like a creeper_, she thought. Roldan stared at her for a moment and then withdrew his hand.

"It is most improper for me to beacon upon My Lady's door," he said, with a courtesy that Sarah found to be, ironically, most unseemly.

"...You know I don't care about those weird rules," Sarah said. _And from my experience, neither have you._ Roldan turned and in a quick gesture glanced over her. Seeing her had become increasingly annoying since Jareth's little stunt. It was like he couldn't get it out of his head. But more than that, he couldn't stop over-thinking everything. He was making such a fool of himself, he knew it and yet... "Did you need something? I can't tell if you waiting in the hall makes it more or less important," she said, and he realized he'd missed the opportunity for an initial response. His eyes met hers again, more blatantly this time, though he tried to ignore her vision.

"Quite simply, I have been waiting for you," he said and turned away from her. "I am to be your chaperone," he added, offering his arm this time instead of his hand. Sarah's brow furrowed deeply, though this time she accepted the gesture.

"Oh...Okay," she said, uncertainly. She knew they would be traveling to the forest for the ceremony, and it only made sense to go by carriage. She also knew that she wouldn't see Jareth until she got there, and yet for some reason she was still surprised by Roldan's presence.

She locked her arm in his awkwardly, glancing to the side as they began the trek down the hall. She was close to saying how unnecessary this was, that his duties had been relieved and to just meet her there. She said no such thing however. In fact, and she blamed this solely on her nerves and nothing else, her hold on his arm may not have been as lifeless as it could have been.

They were quiet as they walked. Roldan peered down to her from time to time, curious to the way her frown grew deeper and deeper.

"You look...very beautiful," he said. Sarah furrowed her brow but didn't look up.

"Thanks," she replied. Mariella, trailing behind, was curious in observing, as it seemed their individual tensions stemmed from completely opposing sources. Hm...was there something she'd missed?

Roldan looked forward and bit his cheek. He didn't think this would be so difficult. And she...she truly did look beautiful.

"I wanted...to apologize," he said, and this time Sarah did look up.

"For what?" she asked. He seemed nervous right now, antsy. She figured it was just from the awkward situation Jareth had no doubt put them in, but after glimpsing the sense of odd disconcertion on his face, thought it might be something more.

"I...admit that I haven't been as...hospitable as I...suppose I should have been...in these recent weeks," he said, his eyes awkwardly averted as if reciting a speech. Sarah's furrowed brow deepened. Had Jareth told him to apologize?

"You don't have to force yourself," she said and he reflexively peered down to her. His eyes brightened and she interpreted them as fearful he had been found. Her expression however remained unchanged. "I'm sure Jareth _politely asked_ you to escort me tonight, but you don't have to take it so far. What's more, you don't have to force yourself to play nice and lie to me," she said, frankly. Roldan frowned in return then begrudgingly looked away.

"I...Jareth ordered no such thing," he said, which was mostly true. Through bitter subterfuge, Roldan realized he no longer had the liberty of deflecting his discrepancies, and although Jareth had never ordered him explicitly to do anything about it, he couldn't stand the shame of not doing anything at all. His peripheral caught Sarah's brow as it rose. "I simply wanted to take the moment to...acknowledge-"

"That I'm about to become queen?" Roldan looked over at Sarah's interruption. Her expression was not nearly as ambivalent as his. "You're finally realizing that Jareth is serious about all this and so feel the unwarranted need to express your superficial respects, is that it? Why you're being so formal all of the sudden?" she asked, not quite angry, though not appeasing either. Roldan just stared at her for a moment.

"I am being formal because we are in a formal situation," he explained, but Sarah only scowled harder.

"And your actions now have consequences," she finished, seeing through his facade for what it was. Roldan's jaw tensed and he looked away, irritated that he wasn't wholly sure which of them was correct.

"You are about to legally become my superior yes-"

"Yeah, I know," Sarah said, interrupting him yet again. He bit his tongue that time. It was starting to annoy him. "Do you think I'm going to start whipping you now?" she asked. "I told you, I don't care for all these stupid rules and I sure as hell don't need any more pseudo-_repartee_, so you can relax. Your position is not being threatened, least of all by me." Her arm had subconsciously tightened around his, her nerves getting worked up by his asinine sense of propriety. Roldan was quiet for a moment, his expression stern.

"What I was going to say...-if you had let me finish- is that you are about to become my superior and every decision you make will be a reflection upon my teachings." Sarah stopped her brooding and looked up. He was glaring at her most disapprovingly. "I was also going to say..." and then he paused, just briefly. When his eyes left hers it felt as if they'd been torn away. "That...regardless of your many shortcomings...you have done everything that has been asked of you. You have done it well. I merely wanted to acknowledge your efforts in an endeavor that I know you are ill-suited towards. As my queen, I will be obligated to support you, yes, but that is not what is important." He stopped then, they'd made it to the castle gates and he turned to face her as they opened. "What is important is the fact that _I will_ support you," he said, and it seemed to her that there was something more dire lurking beneath those words. "We will all support you. As long as you shall live."

Sarah turned away then, and angled herself discreetly. His eyes on her were bold, focused. She didn't like it. She began to feel cautious, wondering when and why Roldan had become so genuine. She tried not to read into it. He was simply being mannerly, she assured herself. But still, she wondered which parts of him she could trust, how much of this speech was truly out of the obligation she thought him under. After what Jareth had said, she just couldn't view him the same.

"Does this mean I pass?" she asked, trying to keep the mood light. She felt Mariella's hand on her shoulder then, urging they proceed down the steps. Sarah thanked her for that and stared out over the city as they descended.

"I suppose...try not to make me regret it," Roldan said, with the same lighthearted effort in his voice she'd had. She smiled, but not at him. The sun was just about to set and cast a brilliant hue over the city. It was lovely. She could see the carriage waiting for them at the bottom of the stairs and a knight, no doubt Baldur, waiting to open its door.

"I'll do my best. Earning your approval? Shocking I know, but it does actually mean something to me," she said, ignorant of his expression when she released his arm to greet the goblins that awaited them. Mariella paused and glanced back to him, one brow rising as a smug little smirk curled her lips. Their eyes locked, and then he glared away viciously.

* * *

"How long will it take to get there?" Sarah asked, precariously peeking behind the blind of her window.

"Not long, twenty minutes maybe," Roldan answered, crossing his arms as he leaned back in his seat. Mariella, next to Sarah, peered out the window with her.

"Oh my, it's quite spooky out there, isn't it?" she asked. It was pitch black now. One could hardly see the edge of the road they traveled on.

"You choose now of all times to rattle my nerves?" Sarah asked, teasingly.

"You'll be fine. It's only about a quarter mile walk once we reach the entrance."

Sarah peered up to Roldan swiftly.

"What? A quarter mile? Are you serious?" she asked. She knew, as it had been explained to her, that once arriving at the entrance to the forest, it would be up to Sarah to walk the remainder of the way. For one, the trees were too dense for a carriage to fit, and two, the journey symbolized her _willingness_, or rather, _eagerness_, for the union -she tried, so many times, to overlook that. Jareth would be at the opposite end, and it would be their job to "find" one another and seek out the altar together. It made sense, but to her it was stupid. It was like they were trying smack her in the face over and over again with all this stupid symbolism that only reminded her of the fact that this was the last thing she wanted to do.

Roldan stared at her with impatience.

"Yes. A quarter mile, maybe even more. Can you handle it?" he asked. Sarah pursed her lips and crossed her arms.

"I wasn't concerned about the walking. Geez. Have you seen this dress? Do you have any idea how filthy it's going to get being dragged around that forest?" she asked. Roldan quirked a brow.

"I'm surprised you care," he countered, which had her eyes widening.

"I-it's not that I care per say, I just think it's an awful shame to ruin such fine craftsmanship," she explained, waving a flippant hand in the air. Seriously, after the fit Talnah had thrown over a couple wrinkles, she didn't even want to think about what would happen should she learn her one of a kind gem had been rendered stained and tattered. Mariella grinned in secret.

"I think it will be fine. This fabric is much more durable than it looks. And besides, I'm sure His Majesty will help you along should you get snagged," she said, snickering to herself. Sarah tried not to glare over, instead she glared at Roldan.

"So...what happens now?" she asked. Roldan quirked a brow.

"Pardon?" he asked, with warning. _If she's already forgotten what to do... _Sarah stared at him blatantly.

"I mean tomorrow I guess. What happens once I'm queen?" she clarified, little to Roldan's ease. He shrugged as he rolled his eyes.

"Not much I would assume," he said, re-positioning his arms over his chest. "There may be some minor responsibilities Jareth may feel the need to place upon you, but for the most part your professional _job_ will consist of appeasing the public, giving out alms, kissing babies, that sort of thing. All of which we've gone over. You'll also be responsible for saving face. I imagine you'll start receiving a number of cordial invitations, most of which you will deny," he said. Sarah frowned.

"Why?" she asked. Roldan glanced to the side.

"For one? Because you're a human. Many of these invitations will merely be a means of getting a bite out of you. While some you will accept for diplomatic or strategic purposes, it is important to remember that no one at court is even remotely interested in you," he explained, looking over to meet her in the eye. "No one has any interest in becoming your friend. None of them wants to_ help_ you. Until you establish your identity within court, you will be fair game to all of them. That is where your true responsibility lies, where your true power comes from. From tomorrow on, _you_, not Jareth will be the reflection of this nation's power and stature. One false move could prove irredeemable."

"Well geez, aren't you ever the motivator."

He glanced up to find Sarah shaking her head as she stared out the window, her arms and legs crossed tightly as she grumbled. He scowled then, expecting her to take more heed in his words. Though, something about her posture implied that she in fact found his words redundant.

They were quiet the rest of the way, but before long the carriage started to slow and they stopped before a wide hollow in the forest.

They heard steps, the carriage drivers disembarking, and soon her door was opened for her.

"My Lady, we have arrived," a soldier said. Sarah blinked at him for a moment but sat rigidly in her seat, staring out at the empty blackness before her. There were two torches on either side, but their light did little to illuminate the path they marked. She gulped, not quite as prepared as she'd thought.

She was surprised when Marie moved in front of her, hopping down from the carriage and stepping into the open area. Sarah glanced back to Roldan, something of a plea on her face. For a moment, she thought his eyes held sympathy, but it was fleeting. Soon his expression hardened and he moved out of the carriage as well, turning and offering her a hand.

She took it tentatively and stepped down. Her grip on his hand was...tighter than he'd anticipated.

"So...this is the forest?" Sarah asked and gulped, letting go of Roldan's hand to inspect the area more closely. "You're right...it is pretty spooky," she added, feigning confidence as she made sure to remain within the light of the torches. "So I just...head on in?" she asked, glancing back worriedly. Mariella stepped towards her.

"Yes. But don't be frightened, it's perfectly safe," she said, meaning to assure her and jittered rather awkwardly before impulsively stepping forward and embraced Sarah tightly. "Good luck," she said, pulling away to hold her at arm's length. "I may not see you before I leave, so I must bid you farewell now," she explained. Roldan's brow twitched in confusion. Sarah smiled awkwardly and rose a hand to the back of her neck.

"Ah, yeah. Thanks. Have a safe trip. If you can...by magic or whatever, let me know you got there safe okay?" she asked. Mariella nodded, hoping the strength in her smile would pass on to her. Roldan's brow continued to furrow.

"I will, most definitely. And I shall write you once a day, though I should not be gone for too long."

"Once a day? Alright then, I guess I'll be waiting."

She stepped away from Marie then and turned towards the forest. It was...intimidating. She'd never before been afraid of the dark, but now she was filled with trepidation. She took a step forward, reaching out into the shadow. It seemed unnatural, but it was probably just her nerves. She took a few more steps, away from the safety of the torches, and in her blindness rustled a nearby bush and jumped when a glitter of fireflies suddenly arose from it. She took another step and they hovered around her. More and more rose as she moved further down the path, and it seemed, most eerily, that they were to be her guides. With that bit of reassurance, she turned back and gave her companions a wave.

"Well, this is it I guess. Thanks for the escort," she said, smiling softly as Mariella beamed back at her with an excited fluttering wave. The goblins upon the carriage hopped down and each one removed their helmet as they bowed. She stifled a giggle then, watching as Baldur nudged dear Roldan, eyeing him disapprovingly until he too gave an extravagant bow.

"We should expect to see you soon, My Queen."

They watched as she turned away from them, delving into the depths of the forest as the strange light guided her. Mariella stood, smiling with pride when Roldan stepped near. His arms were still folded across his chest and he leaned down to speak in her ear.

"You planning on going somewhere?" he asked. Mariella peered up to find his expression expectant. She smiled again and laced her arm with his.

"Yes, a journey to my home, for just a few days," she said softly and looked up to him with a smile. "Shall you miss me dearly?" she asked, teasingly, and giggled with delight at the way his brow drew tight. "Come Master Roldan, you may escort me back to the castle and tell me all about it," she said, ignoring the vague tension of opposition about him and turned them back towards the carriage.

* * *

Sarah nibbled her lip as she walked through the forest. She held the skirt of her gown so it wouldn't trail in the dirt, surprisingly concerned over its maintenance. Although, her concern may have been the result of more pertinent worries; as it turned out, the insects that hovered around her were not so much guides, as they were simply startled by her movements and it would be more accurate to say that it was in fact she who was guiding them. With the sight of Roldan and Mariella long since behind her, she feared she may end up becoming lost before long.

She was on a path, but it was dark and overgrown. And the insects, while they were better than no light at all, did little to help her orient herself.

She stopped for a moment, anxiety finally hitting her. She was alone in the forest and it reminded her of the last time she was under such circumstance. The Fieries...they creeped her out like nothing else. What if they or something else happened upon her unexpectedly? Where the hell was she supposed to go? And where the hell was Jareth anyway!?

A quarter mile. Roldan had said the walk was a quarter mile, but he hadn't said whether the path was straight or crooked or what. She didn't know what to look for but neither did she see anything, so she just kept walking. If worse came to worst Jareth would appear to her, she told herself. He liked to spy on her, right? Maybe he was watching her right now, reveling in it. She had half a mind to flip him the bird, though the more rational side of her brain knew that would accomplish nothing in all this darkness. She'd save it for later.

She closed her eyes and let out a deep exhale, meditating for a moment to get her nerves under control. She relaxed, and then something drew her attention. She twitched, distracted by a distinctive and most familiar noise...like a pulse. She followed it. It was faint at first, but as she stepped further into the forest it quickly grew in volume. Like...chanting maybe? She felt the tremble of grass creaking beneath her bare feet, cold and wet, as a low bass began to course in steady waves through the ground. She looked up, following the direction her ears had pointed her in, no longer concerned about the darkness. She saw something then and focused her eyes. As if waiting just for her, a warm glow now illuminated from behind the trees. Her back stiffened and she watched as the small ball of light was joined by many others.

Sarah stopped dead as a cruel sense of deja vu hit her. This pulse...she'd heard it before...in a dream. It creeped, wormed its way around her, while the entrancing light stole her gaze. Could that- was that really? She stood, stupefied, staring at the fire blooming from within the trees as she tried her hardest not to realize the true depth of Jareth's scheming.

She took a step and paused, her trance broken by something unknown, a sixth sense. She furrowed her brow and looked over.

She almost gasped, her eyes going wide and her breath hitching in her throat. He was standing directly before her, on a path parallel to hers. How...how long had he been there? The way they mirrored one another made it feel like they had been near all along.

"J-Jareth? God. Don't- don't scare me like that!" she said, hushed, glaring viciously as she brought a hand to cover her racing heart. She looked away and swallowed hard, the sound and lights now resigning to the background.

She waited for his response but looked back over when none came, her expression becoming concerned.

"Jareth?"

He was just...standing there. She looked up to him and he opened his mouth to speak and yet... She had angled herself away, but now turned to face him. He blinked. Once. Twice. And felt such an immeasurable surge course through him he could barely contain it. He took in a deep breath and slowly a smile formed from his gaping mouth.

"You..." he started, and from the way he stared at her it seemed he doubted she was really there. She shifted away from him again and frowned, bringing her hands to hold her biceps nervously.

"What?" she asked, curtly. Jareth blinked again and took a step towards her, halting when she took a step in retreat. His smile grew, as it seemed each doubted the truth of the other's presence. He started to reach out but his hand only retracted in defeat. He stepped towards her again, crossing over the barrier of foliage that separated them, though this time instead of retreating she lowered her eyes and braced. "Jareth..." she said, weakly, her body stiffening when he leaned in close to her, and her hands raised between them defensively. He was...behaving oddly again and she was not in the right state of mind to be jumped by him. Jareth paused, his chest heavy as he breathed. Excitement riddled his senses and he fought hard to restrain it. He rose a hand to the side of her face, touching her cheek lightly as if she would break from the force of his zeal alone.

"I think...you are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen," he said, his tentative hands pulling away and curling tightly, as if knowing she was not yet his to touch. Sarah's worried gaze rose, ill-prepared against the force of his. She opened her mouth to speak but he cut her off, his eyes greedily traveling over her as his smile broadened further. "I feel as though I should kneel," he said, apparently beside himself. Sarah swallowed and stood back, very much wishing he wouldn't.

"You look...nice too," she said, warily. In this darkness, it looked like he was dressed in black, his coat long, a shimmering cape over one shoulder, his shirt and accents pure white. She didn't allow herself much time to inspect his appearance however, instead watching as his smile found new life and he glanced to the ground.

"I fear I cannot contain myself. I never expected..." and his voice trailed off. He shook his head incredulously. Sarah eyed him even more worriedly then, concerned for both their well-being.

"...Jareth?" she asked.

"Sarah."

His gaze rose to hers and in it she saw new conviction. There was sharpness, familiar and dangerous, his excitement manifest in the flicker of fire that reflected in his eyes.

"You're...creeping me out," she admitted. A dark and treacherous forest was not the place to be having a character quirk, and she knew from the look in his eye that Jareth was on the verge of having quite the episode. She gulped and held a fist close to her chest.

"I apologize," he said, and she realized he'd stepped towards her again, surprised when his hand cupped her jaw. She looked up but his gaze was now hooded, the reflection of fire rendered to embers, deep and glowing. She nearly trembled from the severity of such a gaze, from the unquestioning sense of longing that had her heart beating steadfast with his. This was not good. She needed some distance. "I simply never thought a feeling of such utter powerlessness could bring such...rapture." He spoke with disbelief and a matching smile soon followed. Sarah stared up at him, afraid, but of what she wasn't sure.

"Powerlessness?" she repeated, lowering her gaze when he moved in closer. Their eyes were near closed, his mouth suspended much too close to hers.

"Mhm..." he murmured and leaned in. She braced herself, frowning intensely and yet her mouth gaped open in anticipation. "Complete and total loss..." She could feel his breath on her lips, feel his words as they passed from his tongue to hers and it was then that she recoiled. She bit her lip and turned away, her scowl near painful as she fought to steady her breathing. Jareth paused, not expecting her reaction and pulled away from her slightly.

"You're using my nerves against me," she said and he blinked at her in confusion. "I'd prefer it if we simply got this over with," she added sternly, or perhaps, forced herself to be. Her gaze was intense, though she directed it strictly from him. Jareth stared at her for a moment, not quite knowing...what to do.

* * *

It was a pain keeping himself from her that day. He was so excited and rarely felt an eagerness so up-lifting. He forced himself however, knowing it would be for the best. It would make everything so much more...dramatic.

He couldn't wait to see her. He never thought it would be him who paced anxiously as the hours passed, waiting quite restlessly for marriage of all things. And yet he was restless. Something that, not so long ago, was completely trivial to him now felt like the zenith of all ambition. Sarah was on the cusp of becoming his and that...meant so much more than it had.

However, with that said he was still cautious upon entering the forest. He'd walked slowly, vigilant and yet still managed to savor that last trek. The forest was so calm this night, so warm and welcoming. He couldn't help but find it suspicious. He could feel Liana's presence, but as long as Sarah wore the charm she would not be able to interfere.

It was then that he found his meandering impeded and he stopped. Of course, speak of the devil.

She was already waiting for him, blocking his path and slowly emerged from the darkness as he approached her.

"Well well, isn't this a surprise," he said, smiling dangerously at the eerily iridescent woman before him. Liana tilted her head, already well agitated, and kept herself angled away. Her eyes glowed in the darkness, in that most animalistic way of hers.

"Hm? Look at you dressed so debonair. Lost in my forest yet again?" she asked, dismissively. Jareth's grin broadened.

"Not quite," he said and his eyes sharpened. "What do you want?"

"Perceptive as always. Alas, rest easy, I merely came to congratulate you," she said, turning towards him and lightly brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. Jareth's smile curled. So, she was going to toy with him?

"Oh really? Your posture says otherwise," he said, cocking a brow as he observed her. She rose her nose at him and looked away, keeping her back straight just to prove him wrong.

"What can I say? Sensing my master within my forest and not being able to greet her is making me quite bothered. I supposed however, if I could not greet her, I might as well greet you. Your last departure was rather rude after all," she said, and to that Jareth laughed.

"Ah, how civil of you. With such good intentions, I suppose then there's no reason for me to bother questioning the bit of _spring fever_ you gave Sarah the other day?" he asked, his expression candid as Liana's became more stern.

"Forgive me, I have no idea what you mean," she said, oddly annunciated, not even attempting to cover the lie. Jareth's smile curled.

"Of course not. The sudden onset of narcoleptic catalepsy is just so common in these parts. What were you trying to do exactly?" he asked feigning confidence when in reality Sarah's recount from that day was still causing him a great deal of worry. He'd had little time to investigate but with Liana's surprise appearance now, perhaps he should have made time. She'd told her to _wake up_ after all. One could take such words literally, while he however...knew better than that.

Liana's steely expression gave way for just a moment as a faint smirk flickered across her face.

"What's that? You sound nervous Jareth. Afraid I'll find the loophole in your almighty spell?" she asked, teasingly. Jareth tried not to allow his grin to turn to a sneer.

"Hm, so as I expected you_ were _experimenting...which means you have yet to find it?" he asked, swallowing whatever bit of trepidation that was still holding him back. "Alas, your efforts are in vain. My spell is foolproof," he asserted. She was trying to dishearten him, but he could see through her weak display for what it really was. She was getting desperate, making one bluff after another. So she had managed to reach out to Sarah in a lucid dream, so what? She still could not reach her physically. No magic or influence was passed to her, no harm came from it. It was a parlor trick and nothing else.

Liana could see a change go through him, something that allowed him to stand a little taller and she...was so very irritated.

"I see you are content while I poke and prod," she said, failing to mask the spite in such words.

Jareth could see her start to stew and lifted his head a bit. He would agree that her mannerisms were becoming much more human, and it allowed him to gaze down at how meek and vulnerable they now rendered her.

"There is no need," he said, and took a step towards her. "If you wish to speak with her so badly then all you had to do was ask. There is no reason to strain yourself. Fear not. I'll pass along your regards," he added and looked down as he chuckled. Unlike their last encounter, he showed no fear before her, and that she found to be rather...irksome. She held her ground as he moved past her, her eyes a glare when he stopped and peered over to her deviously. "Or perhaps...were you planning on keeping me from her?" he asked. They were standing closely, equal in height. Liana rose a brow at him, her expression stern. _Cocky as always..._

"Does the possibility worry you?" she asked. Jareth looked away.

"No. Not tonight," he said and glanced back at her shrewdly.

"So smug...and yet you realize, I have the power to prevent this entire affair from taking place?" she asked, stepping away and turning her back to him. Jareth tried to refrain from openly gloating.

"Yes, but you won't," he stated. Liana paused and his smile became excited. "Deny it."

Liana glared back swiftly, her arms crossing in front of her.

"I will not," she affirmed, her eyes lowering just briefly. "Now that Sarah has returned to the Underground it only makes sense that she become this nation's queen. She shall be the ruler of both Man and Nature. Once my master awakens, all shall be whole once more," she said, her words a secret comfort to Jareth's ears.

"And yet we suffer such antagonization. Are you finally ready to bestow your blessing?" he asked. Liana paused, her eyes narrowing as she pondered her response.

"...The druid has been sanctioned if that is what you are referring to. Your rite will be performed as desired," she replied, begrudgingly almost. Jareth huffed, his expression becoming haughty.

"Such consideration. It feels good to work together again, does it not?" he asked, mockingly. A fire flashed in Liana's eyes, something dangerous that Jareth took no heed in provoking.

"You seem so confident...Though I wonder how long it will last?" she said, a goading upturn at the end of her sentence. Jareth's grin faded and his gaze became more serious.

"Have you come just to unnerve me or is there a threat to be made?" he asked. Liana smiled and wove a finger in the air. Oh dear, he was getting ahead of himself. She stepped towards him, her stern expression softening as she gave him a most Cheshire grin.

"A threat? Oh Jareth...I've already made my threat remember? No...no as I've said tonight I have come to congratulate you. After all, since I am here it would mean your spell on her is indeed foolproof. Your plan is finally starting to come together," she said, most ominously. Jareth didn't know how to read into it. There was spite in her eyes as she glanced away, a sharpness he recognized all too well. "The ceremony will proceed as planned, you may rest easy this night. Your beloved doll is safe from my overbearing clutches. However I cannot guarantee the future; the rest unfortunately...is up to you." She walked by him and stopped, placing a hand on his shoulder and leaned in, smiling so wickedly as she whispered, "Good luck..._My Liege_."

She stepped away from him but by the time he turned around she was gone. He stood there for a moment, trying to realize her intentions. She seemed angered, calculated. But then again, he was heavily provoking her just by having Sarah in the forest at all. Was she making a threat or giving her blessing? Honestly he had expected more, especially after the way their last encounter ended. But perhaps...she really was conceding? He...shouldn't have anything to worry about.

For a moment he thought of the dangers Sarah's presence posed. He would be wise to return her to the castle as soon as the ceremony ended. However...as long as Sarah wore the charm he was certain that Liana would not be able to interfere. _Poke and prod _all she may, she could not even make a physical appearance to her. The forest may be a danger to him, but to Sarah it was safe; and besides, even without her confirmation just now he knew this was something she would not make a move against. Liana _wanted_ Sarah to become queen, she'd wanted that all along. It would make her awakening all the more convenient. At least they could agree on that one small thing. And if by some unfortunate disaster Sarah ever did awaken her hold, at the very least she would be his wife, she would be under his charge and, ipso facto, Liana would in the most pathetic of ways, still be his. Liana knew this...and yet...

But no, conspiring thoughts could wait. This night he cared not for the Labyrinth, not even in the slightest. He turned around and forced those thoughts away, forced himself to forget all about her. If anything she was simply trying to get under his skin, but he would not let her. Not when he was so close. He didn't need luck. He didn't need that witch's blessing. Sarah was waiting for him and now that Liana had shown her two-sided face, his need to find her became all the more urgent.

He could hear the sounds of the summoners arise as they prepared the ritual ground and stepped further towards it. If he was getting close that would mean Sarah was as well, and he wondered then if perhaps Liana had vanished so quickly in response to the proximity of Sarah's charm. He grew more attentive then, began to seek and prowl the shadows. He saw the combustion of the summoner's flames as they roared to life and in their light did he happen upon the object he so sought, revealed to him to be by his very side.

He turned and saw her, no more than a stride or two away, her own gaze lost on the spectacle before them. Harsh shadows flickered across her form, but her eyes, her lips, the parts he could see were more than enough to make such separation worth all the while.

He moved towards her but she still hadn't seen him; she was completely fixated on the scene before her. He took a step, to the point where his path joined hers. He could see her much more clearly and, unwittingly, found himself under the very same enchantment.

Her hair fell in long brilliant waves, decorated (much to his delight) with the amaranthine blossoms _he'd_ suggested. Her neck and shoulder were bare, as were her slender arms and delicate hands as she knotted them in front of her. Her gown hung elegantly from her frame, but only because it was she it clung to. Junaen silk, he noted. A very fine and rare material indeed. It shimmered and shone and reflected the light before her in a subtle yet brilliant spectrum of color. Such a material needed no embellishment, no accent of rhine or pearl. It fell in layers, wrinkling and waving against a breeze that was not there, fluttering about her like petals on a wilting flower. She was so statuesque in the darkness, her skin faded to the same ashen tone as her dress. He continued to stare at her, and recognized quite profoundly how much that one stance had aged her, but it was not years she'd gained. No, it was an age that defied mortality. It was something serene, something relentless. And for as ephemeral a moment as his gander was, it was also infinite, for it gave him a feeling...a feeling he would never be able to live without.

His heart had been stolen by her countless times before, but when she turned and looked at him, when her facade atop his pillar finally broke, he could feel his heart breaking with it. And he wondered why it ached so badly, why it made him feel so invigorated.

* * *

His excitement quelled as he stared at her now, as he saw the contention twisting her face and he realized, disillusionment was not only imminent but would be most surely bitter.

"You're using my nerves against me...I'd prefer it if we simply got this over with," she'd said, her expression a firm scowl and her lip thoroughly worried. She glared away from him forcefully. He stared at her for a moment and...

Sarah stayed quiet as she waited for Jareth's response, but the silence stretched and she found her gaze flickering to him anxiously. His smile had long since faded and now his brow knitted tightly. He looked disappointed and she couldn't help but feel the same.

"Yes...I suppose you're right," he said, his voice lackluster as he released his hold on her. She stared at him for a moment, knowing exactly what his problem was and wondered if he had really expected anything different. She didn't say anything however, she couldn't, because quite obviously he did. She turned away from him and faced the array of light.

"Is this it then? Is this where we make our entrance?" she asked. Jareth's gaze was absent and his response to her delayed. His jaw tensed, his thoughts turning dark as he acknowledged his folly. Though in spite of himself, he forced himself to smile and turned to look at her with an extended hand.

"If you would be so kind?" he asked, a veneer of charm taking over him. Sarah saw it, saw how forced it was and frowned, but the pity she felt was not for him. Like a good little loser, she accepted his offer and placed her hand in his. His fingers curled around hers but he hesitated. The way she kept her gaze straight ahead was cold and resolved, and yet he couldn't take his eyes from her. He felt like such a fool.

To think she may no longer be so against becoming his wife, to think that things -that anything at all- had changed...how...how asinine could he be? And yet he had spoken so arrogantly to Liana but minutes before...He pondered for a moment, pondered the delusion he'd propelled himself in to. They'd been getting along so well, he'd forgotten...that she never would.

An odd sense of composure washed over him as he accepted the reality of their circumstances. He turned away and stared ahead just as she. Regardless of it all, this night would not be ruined. He would persist in his delusion...until it no longer mattered. His hand constricted hers and _together_ they walked towards the light.

* * *

Sarah's hold on Jareth's hand tightened as they neared their destination. The ominous rumble that coursed through her began to define, sharpening into layers of voices, chanting in a language she had no hope to understand. She took a deep breath and it wavered, anxiety seeping through the cracks in her armor. They neared the edge of the tree-line and suddenly this terrible darkness felt like a haven. She didn't realize she'd paused before crossing the threshold and was thus surprised when Jareth stopped and turned to look down at her.

"Do you remember what to do?" he asked, and for a moment she forgot to hide the desperation in her expression. She looked away quickly however once he'd started to frown.

"Yes," she said, nodding with false conviction. Jareth felt a further tug on his frown but instead averted his eyes, now ebbing into agreement that it might be best to just get this over with after all. He steeled his heart and led her out of the trees, into a small circular clearing.

While Roldan had explained everything that would happen during the ceremony, that did little to help Sarah actually envision it. They passed into a glade, and perhaps it was the music that first unnerved her, but when she finally saw what awaited them she found herself drawing back with alarm.

Amidst the darkness a ring of figures emerged, tall and shrouded in black cloaks. There were eight of them, each standing on the stump of a tree forming a large circle, and they were chanting; each holding a particular note to create an eerie and unsettling harmony. She felt a chill run down her spine as they approached this circle, her unease steadily turning to dread as their song vibrated through her. Jareth was silent and did little to sooth her as they then entered the ring. It was brighter now, louder. As they gradually passed, she could see each figure held their hands in a different position and before them levitated a ball of light. They walked past them, their presence ignored, and at the far end Sarah saw a tree, its trunk crooked, its branches falling low and wide. There was something ominous about it, something...that shouldn't be.

She felt herself hesitating to keep up with Jareth's stride, as it seemed it was the tree they were walking towards, a tree whose odd presence seemed to loom over them all. She looked around from face to face and was admittedly frightened; this all seemed very occult to her and that's when her poor Christian heart realized...it was.

They stopped before an altar. It was small, the carving of its stone worn and overtaken by moss and vines. Atop it sat a book, Jareth's family spell book she recalled, and next to it an embellished chalice and decanter. They stood quietly for a moment and Sarah looked up to face the massive tree. It looked old, dead even. It was covered with knots and contusions, odd growths that pierced through the bark like a cancer. Above her, just over head, was a hole, a gaping crevice that split the trunk like a wide gash. She stared into it, into the blackened depths within and felt her skin crawl. She'd tried to tear her eyes away from it but couldn't. There was something...disturbing there. Something that lurked. She was still holding on to Jareth's hand and now squeezed it tightly, for she couldn't shake the feeling that there was surely something staring back at them.

She bit her lip and forced her eyes away, wondering where and when the druid would appear. Those hooded figures were obviously the summoners, one for each kingdom and as she thought, she realized, to the terror of her imagination, that she hadn't bothered to ask anybody exactly _what_ this creature really was.

She felt her heart quicken when the singing suddenly stopped. She looked over to Jareth, feeling a mild panic when he released her hand. He ignored her and looked up into the tree, his expression very focused.

It was then that he began to speak, the strong command in his voice breaking through the perturbed silence. He spoke loudly, clearly, though if Roldan hadn't told her beforehand she would have had no idea what he'd said.

She had been informed previously that most, if not all, of the ceremony (to her dismay) would not be conducted in English. It was to be spoken in their native tongue, a language older and more convoluted than any in her world. She might have tried, but couldn't even begin to understand it. It was elegant and exotic, intricate yet smooth, like nothing she'd ever heard and filled with sounds and syntax she didn't even think her poor American mouth had the skill to form. Sensing this early on, Roldan had said it would be unconventional but still okay if she said her own part in the _common tongue,_ though he had been nice enough to translate everything else for her so she wouldn't be completely lost. She'd been a bit taken back the first time she'd heard it, heard how beautiful it sounded. Just now Jareth had said something like, _"Behold, the branches of heaven"_ and immediately the figures behind them chanted _"Behold, its roots on Earth"_.

They had started chanting again, reciting a spell of some sort. Sarah kept her eyes front, following Jareth's lead by standing tall and expectantly. She watched as he reached out, taking hold of the cup and then filled it with wine. He placed it in the center of the altar between them and then reached for something she hadn't noticed before. Something she'd...tried to forget about.

Sarah didn't like this part, not in rehearsal and certainly not now. She'd asked if it was completely necessary but of course it was, pagans and their sacrifices. She watched as Jareth took hold of a blade, watched it gleam in the dim light, and she bit the inside of her cheek...As if she hadn't given up enough already.

She continued to watch as he pulled back his sleeve and moved his arm out over the chalice, and then winced for him when the knife cut into his flesh. He dragged it across his wrist and she wondered how badly it hurt and yet why his expression hadn't flinched in the slightest. He clenched his fist and the blood dripped faster. After a few seconds he pulled away, healing the wound himself and wiping the excess blood away with his thumb. He turned to her then, though his offer was clearly hesitant.

Sarah glanced to the cup, to the bloodied knife in Jareth's hand and back again, and gulped as she took it from his grasp. She turned away from him, held her own arm out over the cup, but nothing happened. She stared at it, stared at the glint of the blade, and just couldn't bring herself to do it. She'd never cut herself before... Jareth watched as a look of preemptive pain marred her features and in sympathy he reached out and grasped her hand.

She looked up to him wordlessly, and neither did he say anything. He couldn't; they were not permitted to speak casually during the ritual. His eyes, however, spoke for him. She held his gaze, bit her lip, and then relaxed her hold on the knife. Jareth took it from her, took hold of her tightly clenched fist and eased it open. He ran his thumb over her palm, over the smooth paleness of her skin as he thought, and she knew he regretted what he was about to do. And yet how could she know he had vowed long ago...all the pain she was ever forced to feel -it would be inflicted by him and him alone. He pressed the tip of the blade into her palm and ran it down the center.

Sarah closed her eyes and murmured as the knife cut into her hand and bit her tongue to remain as quiet as possible. Jareth was frowning, but had yet to falter as he ceased and placed the knife back atop the altar, then turned her palm face down. She watched again as the blood dripped into the cup, watched as it then spread messily across her hand when her fist tightened. He uncurled her fingers when the blood started to slow, and with the same gesture healed her wound. She withdrew her hand and stared at it, left red and sticky, and made a mental note not to touch her dress with it. Unwittingly she started to relax. _Hm...I guess that wasn't...so bad._

With that out of the way, Jareth took hold of the chalice and swirled its contents, then poured some of it onto the ground. _"Drink from this and awaken from your slumber. Taste of life and our surrender," _he'd she tried to remain aware of Roldan's translations, Sarah found herself becoming quite distracted by simply watching Jareth speak. He was so fluent of course, but it was more than that, it was the way his voiced changed, how he adapted a completely different cadence. It was deeper, smoother than normal. He placed the chalice back on the altar and gestured for her to take a step back.

At first, it seemed like nothing had changed. The chanter's song had become a part of the background, though now she noticed it was fading. Soon their low rumble became nothing at all and the silence, the creeping sinister hush returned. She stood there for a moment, staring, though not sure where she should be looking. She spied on Jareth and saw he was waiting intently, his eyes unblinking and glaring straight ahead. She too followed his gaze, though all she saw was the foreboding hole in the tree.

And then...something happened. It was a chill, running violently down her spine. A breeze had picked up and flowed through them, its whistle_ unnatural_. She began to look around, trying to tell herself it was just her superstitions getting the better of her, but soon she heard a noise even more terrible.

Her eyes sprang forward, towards the tree that now creaked and groaned in the wind. Its branches rustled and a loud resonating came from deep within, as if something was indeed _awakening._ She felt a tremble next, the roots scattered about their feet seeming to vibrate as they regained life. She took a reflexive step back, but Jareth's hand suddenly at her back kept her in place. She looked up to him, desperate for an explanation but he only stared straight ahead. She turned away from him sharply. It seemed there was nothing she could do, nothing but swallow her nerves and wait.

The strange groan came again, only this time it bellowed, it ached. Her eyes became fixed on the gash in the tree, her suspicions confirmed now that she was able to actually _feel_ its presence before them. Her gaze on it became deeper and deeper, entranced almost, drawn in by the rumble. She even felt her fear start to leave her, felt her heart start to relax, and no sooner did it jump out her throat when something sprang forth from the darkness.

She yelped and jumped back, but Jareth's hand became more firm, pressing against her back sternly. It told her it was alright, it told her she was safe. It also told her not to dare move another inch.

It was a hand, four fingers that splayed around the rim of the crevice. They were long -too slender. They flexed and were joined by more, long spindly appendages that creeped forward and slowly tapped against the bark. The hands constricted, tensed, and then something...else came forth. She narrowed her eyes, too terrified to believe what she was seeing. It was large and round, like the...crown of a head. With strain, the hands gradually pulled against the tree, heaving itself out into the open. A long cascade of hair poured from the hole, its strands black and course like wire. The creature creaked and popped, its body contorting as it forced out its shoulders and arms.

Sarah gaped, awe-struck. The monster loomed large over them, its limbs abnormally long, its skin as thick and withered as bark itself. It rose its head and this time Sarah had to cover her mouth with her hands to stifle her gasp.

For some reason, she had thought it would be a man. But given its figure, if this creature had any gender at all, she would have called it a woman, a fiercely decrepit hag. It had no eyes, the shape of its skull a solid plate. Its nose was but two slits, carving jaggedly up its face and seemed to bleed, the orifices wet with a dark fluid that shone against the fire. But that, that was not what terrified her. No, what brought her such fright was its mouth. Its mouth...was distinctly human.

The druid extended towards them, its joints cracking like the sound of twigs and it reached forward, its long spindly fingers drawing to sharp needle-points, twitching as if tasting the air. And as it pulled forward she realized, not merely was the creature dormant within the tree, it was a part of it. Beyond its torso, its body became bulbous and vascular, connecting and protruding like an appendage from within the tree itself. Sarah could feel her heart beating frantically and cursed herself to calm down. Jareth was standing perfectly still, his expression unwavering. She prayed for such resolve.

And then the monster spoke.

Sarah froze. Its sentence was long and jarring. It was so loud, such a fierce baritone, it rattled her very bones. She was unprepared. What did it say? What-what were those sounds? She had no idea. Suddenly Jareth spoke in return and she realized -no, no, she_ remembered_ what it was. Roldan had told her...once the druid appeared it would ask why it had been summoned. Jareth would answer by saying for the rite of marriage. She tried her best to remember the script as well as keep up with what was actually happening, but this creature -how was she the only one freaking out?!

Jareth continued to speak and drew her attention when she actually recognized something. He'd said his own name, and then he'd gestured to her and said...not her name at all. He'd said something like...Sorcha...Sorcha Uilliam. Huh? That wasn't in rehearsal; but then again, they had rehearsed in english. Damn it. Why couldn't Roldan have been more specific?

The druid paused, or rather contemplated and she found it disturbing that she could now recognize the light of consciousness within it. It turned fractionally and looked at her, with no eyes at all it looked right at her and she paled. What? Was she supposed to say something?

It lowered itself towards the altar and seemed to inspect the chalice. It reached down, dipping a needle-like finger into the cup. It withdrew and opened its mouth, its tongue black and its mannerism quite repulsive as it flickered, tasting the droplets of wine and blood that dripped from its finger. Sarah winced and looked away. She didn't mean to be disrespectful but she just...couldn't.

The druid paused again, going completely stiff for just a moment, and then its expression altered. It became something...precarious. It looked at Jareth and then back at Sarah and then swooped in suddenly. Sarah startled back, her eyes going wide and her anxiety causing her pain as a jolt shot up her spine. It was right in her face, its sickening mouth mere inches from hers. And Jareth...Jareth held onto her tighter.

The creature tilted its head, regarding her carefully. Jareth watched from the corner of his eye, curious...and wary.

"Mo bana-mhaighstir? O, deàn aiobhneas do mo suain is làimh ri...Sinne di-beathte a dachaigh, Sorcha Uilliam," it said, a sentence that Sarah could not even begin to wrap her tongue around. She stared unblinking. This was most definitely not a part of the script. She peered over to Jareth. He looked stern, angry even. That couldn't have been good.

"Uhm..." she started and failed. Her hands were raised defensively. She didn't have a clue what to do. The druid cocked its head again, jarringly like a bird and inhaled deeply.

"Ah...isse cadal gu trom? Sàbhailteachd...na h-ùghdarrasan o chridhe...'s fheudar gu bheil fosgailte a tuainig."

Again Sarah gaped. It was obviously trying to talk to her, but what...what should she do? She thanked the heavens when it suddenly turned away from her, returning to its original place above the altar. She looked at Jareth frantically, wondering what in the hell was going on and what it'd said. He was smiling now, a biting one. He was nervous and she could see it. That...really couldn't be good.

The druid spoke again, its voice loud and thundering.

Jareth gritted his teeth as he stared. He couldn't break stance now or she would know something was wrong. Damn it. That had been close. He knew this would be a risk, offering the creature Sarah's blood would allow it to sense what was within her. It was after all, for all intents and purposes, Liana's progeny. After tasting it just now...it had said to her quite plainly, "_My mistress? Alas, rejoice for my sleep is nigh. We welcome you home, Sarah Williams."_ When her response was naught it had smelled her, realized her dormancy and said something like, _"Ah, she sleeps? Safe...Power of the heart...it must be opened to be free."_ He thought he may have to interject, if it said anything more the enchanters behind them may become suspicious. It had moved on however. The druid's time in this plane was limited after all and it had a job to do.

Sarah tried to figure out what was going on. The druid had begun to bellow, its tone imposing. It reached down and began to flip through the pages of the book, and she figured the show must finally be starting. Roldan had told her there would be a few hand signs and incantations, chants from the soothsayers, all of which she could ignore. What mattered was the moment it reached for the chalice. She waited for that moment in agony, wishing it could all just be over.

After a while the druid finally stopped, its fingers left the book and turned towards the cup. It took hold of it and leaned back. Sarah watched it warily, not quite sure what was going to happen next. The creature reached up and plucked a couple of berries from its branches, squishing them in its hand and letting their guts fall into the cup. It began to mumble, something incoherent to her and set the chalice back on the altar. It rose one of its hands and with the other, ran the tip of its index finger down its palm. The skin split and black, tar-like blood oozed from the wound. It dripped down its arm, through all the cracks and crevices of its skin, until falling into the cup below. Sarah swallowed hard then, for she was going to have to drink the contents of that cup.

It said a few more words, spoke Jareth's name and again called her Sorcha, then turned its hands outward in a welcoming gesture. Jareth reached for the cup first, waiting until the creature gave its signal. It asked him a question, or so it seemed and Sarah knew the same question was to be her cue. _Do you take..._

Jareth stared into the cup, breathing softly and then made his vow. His speech was long, although she knew it was a reflection of her own. He recited it perfectly with confidence and no sooner took a large sip from the chalice. The exchange of blood symbolized their bond, made both physical and spiritual...the blessing of the druid's blood turning it into a sacred trinity. She thought over this aimlessly whilst trying to keep her expression neutral. She failed. It was just...so gross. The druid turned to her and repeated the question. She twitched and then took a deep breath. This was it...no going back. She opened her mouth but her breath caught. Her eyes flickered down, down to all the things that had happened to her, to the things she had lost, to all the ups and downs and toss arounds she and Jareth had endured. It had all culminated to this one moment and despite it all she...she was the one who allowed him to bring her here.

"I...Sarah Williams...hereby pledge myself..." and again she hesitated. The cursed drink sloshed in her grasp, black and warm to the touch. It was grotesque yes, but that was not the problem. Drinking from this cup was so much harder...than simply swallowing her pride. Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes. _This is for the best, _she thought._ This is all I can do_. She exhaled slowly and when her eyes opened, they were firmly resolved. _Alright. I've come this far on my own. No more pussy-footing_. She looked up to face the druid in all the confidence she could muster. "I pledge my fealty and my loyalty to my king everlasting. I pledge to him m-my body, my heart and my soul and to my husband undying. I give myself..._I give my whole self_ and I shall take from him wholly. By the blood of gods, may these ties bind us...may these sanctions oblige us to one another and to the realm...in life unending. I accept this husband as he accepts this wife. Blessed be, by the mothers of Earth and Nature."

She gripped the cup in both hands and held it tentatively. She could feel the creature watching her, its fingers twinging in anticipation. She peered into the cup once more, into the vile viscous liquid and recoiled from it slightly. All eyes were on her. All she had to do was drink from this cup and it would be done. All she had to do was _not_ drink from this cup...

She closed her eyes and downed it whole.

She cringed as the taste hit her tongue and nearly slammed the cup back on the altar. Her skin trembled and she tried not to make a gaging sound as she composed herself. The druid's fingers curled and it smiled widely.

"Rejoice the land. For My Mistress...one with our bodies shall be," it said, and Sarah's head darted up with surprise that it had spoken in english. Jareth tensed beside her, but she didn't notice. W-what? "Away to slumber, Almother. Welcome me home," it continued, tilting its head slowly and seeming to be speaking only to her, though she had no idea what it was talking about. She looked to Jareth but with no avail. "Welcome me Almother. Welcome me to sleep," it repeated and Sarah's brow drew when she realized it was making a rather insistent request. Her eyes widened and she choked on a breath.

"I-uh-I welcome you?" she said. The creature was motionless, and then it smiled wickedly. It bowed its head, its arms outstretched.

"For the love of the Almother," it said, and Sarah jumped when the chanters behind her suddenly proclaimed, _"And all that Nature mothers."_ She turned sharply when Jareth stepped away from her, backing away to leave her alone at the altar. What- Wait! She didn't have time to evaluate. In a panic she turned back to the druid, fearful of the way it seemed to stare at her with both patience and delight. It tapped its fingers together and then reached up to break off some of the twigs that grew from its back. She held her breath when it later reached down to her, carefully placing the twigs in her hair like a crown. "The mother of nature...shall be a queen of man," it said, softly. Sarah furrowed her brow...This wasn't according to plan. It pulled away when it was finished and looked at her expectantly, and that's when Sarah remembered -the giving of the crown...this was the coronation. "A man has accepted a wife. But will a queen accept a king?"

Sarah stared up at the druid, at the terrifying creature that it was, though now her terror was nowhere to be found. It was asking her, genuinely. Even without an expression, Sarah could tell its face on hers was intrigued, expectant. And she wondered...why it cared.

Turning in her spot, she faced the crowd behind her.

The summoners hadn't moved, their faces still hidden. They were motionless. She looked around and then...down. For some reason, she felt her heart give a considerable pang.

Jareth was...kneeling. He was stooped low before her, his head bowed in submission. He'd been quiet, patient. Sarah furrowed her brow, not anticipating just how significant this moment became. She gulped when he started to speak.

"_Do an luaidh mo chèile_. To my wife, I have been taken. For her I am lost and I am naught. It is she who will be my queen. In her grace I offer my all, my lands and heart to rule, to rule all and only be ruled in return. Beneath the shadow of gods I profess, I shall protect and cherish her as I do my own breath, for she is that which sustains me. The almighty mother, my Almother I shall worship in such sweet reverence and with such aching despondency. My love..._mo ghaol bith-buan,_ I shall claim her, and if she be mine...I now beseech her...to make of me her own."

Sarah frowned intently, struggling to decide whether or not any part of Jareth's vow had been romantic let alone sincere. She didn't know the parts he'd said in his own language, but still rehearsed words these were, words spoken by many others to many others and yet...and yet he kept his face in the dirt as he said them. He continued to bow before her. And...there was an ease about him while doing so. She frowned even harder, for regardless of the words he said, such posture alone was enough to know that he really meant it. She looked around at all the hooded figures around her. They were waiting and she wondered briefly what faces lurked beneath those masks. It had become quiet, the monster behind her no longer a concern. The ritual was already over. This was just...one more formality.

She turned back to Jareth and offered out her hand. She was supposed to say something...She was supposed to say yes.

He peered up to her then, not to her eyes but to her hand and she saw his expression as resigned. He understood her hesitation, but instead of waiting for something she had not the strength to do, his eyes softened on her and he took her hand and caressed it softy.

"Unto her, I make this vow...a sacred promise...before gods and men in heart of blood, I plead. May my queen take me for as long as she may live."

"Long live the Queen!"

She saw him smile as the summoners shouted, an expression of great satisfaction she noted and remained immobile as he leaned in to kiss the back of her hand. He stood then, his eyes only on her as he stepped close to her side.

"A Queen is born and now I die. To slumber away...my sleep is nigh," the druid spoke, and they turned back to face it. "Welcome me, My Mistress. Welcome...me home..." Its voice faded, dissipating into a low rumble as it then retracted back into the darkness whence it came. Sarah stared on, her confusion unmatched. Mistress? Why did it call her that? She nearly missed her cue when Jareth bowe low before it. Sarah glanced to the ground and did the same. When they straightened, he took her hand in his. They turned and just like that began their walk down the aisle. They were quiet, and she watched as one by one the summoners left their station, moving towards the altar as she and Jareth passed them. Was it...really over?

"...What are they doing?" she asked. To her knowledge the ceremony was finished. But the soothsayers, they were still chanting.

"They must perform the closing rite. Each must make an offering to the spirit," Jareth explained, keeping his voiced lowered until they exited the grounds. Sarah tried to peer back, but she hadn't much of a glance when Jareth then led her back into the forest.

They walked for a while silently. She didn't know where they were going but neither did she ask. They were away from the ground now, far enough to be left cold and blind in the darkness of the forest. Sarah stared at the ground, her mood gradually sinking the longer they walked. It was over now. Just like that. So quickly. The wedding...was over. She couldn't quite believe it. Her freedom was now gone and yet she felt completely the same. She felt totally...unchanged.

She glanced over to Jareth then and wondered why he bothered holding her hand.

"Where are we going?" she asked, feeling the need to break the silence before she became miserable. Jareth stopped and turned back to her.

"I'm not sure," he said and her brow rose slightly.

"What?" she asked, pulling her hand from his and taking a step away. She looked around, unable to orient their location. Were they not going back to the carriage?

"I had no destination, I simply wanted us removed from the ring. I was also rather enjoying our walk," he explained, though little to her satisfaction. She looked to the ground again and folded her arms over her chest.

"Oh..." she mumbled and paced away. "...What happens now?"

Jareth turned and looked towards the sky. It was a clear night, every star shining bright. Sarah stopped her pacing and looked back to him for an answer and he shrugged with indifference.

"We go back to the castle, I suppose," he said, and glanced down when he became curious to the frown that then marred her face. She stared at him for a moment and then quickly looked away.

"Oh, I see," she said, her tone shaken. Jareth paused. _Going back to the castle would be the cautious thing, _he thought_._ And yet somehow she seemed...disappointed.

"Were you expecting something different?" he asked, and watched as her brow furrowed and she shook her head, though even he could see that her anger was without purpose.

"No...not really," she said and glanced into the bushes. She was quiet for a moment and then her brow softened, melancholy pulling it into a frown. "It's just that..." she started and smiled incredulously at how foolish her next words were to be. "In my world...after a couple gets married they...go on a vacation of some sort. It's called a honeymoon," she explained, turning away from him completely to hide her stupidity. Jareth focused his eyes on her.

"I see...we do not practice such a custom," he said and watched as she looked up high into the sky. He could see she was smiling again, though it was not a welcoming expression. He took a step towards her. She seemed...so very upset.

"I figured," she said.

"Would...you like to go on one?"

He asked her plainly, though from the way her brow twitched it seemed his words had been received as something a bit more substantial. She recoiled then. Again. Tightening her arms around herself as she took a step away.

"No...no that's fine," she said, her tone dismal, her posture defeated. He stared at her for a moment, trying to understand.

Sarah cursed herself as she wallowed in her own loathing. Self-pity was not a good color on anyone and so she thanked the darkness that shielded her. It was foolish of her, yes, but she couldn't help it. This feeling...it wasn't...right.

She felt Jareth's hand at the back of her neck, gently brushing her hair aside. Surprised, she turned and looked up, their gazes locking. He was much closer now and she could tell the uncertainty in his gaze must surely match her own. He stared at her and frowned. Liana was right. The ceremony had gone without a hitch. But the rest... And then his gaze softened.

"Thank you," he whispered and her eyes went wide.

"W-wha-"

She went stiff when his arms wrapped around her, pulling her close as he hugged her. She bit her lip and glanced away, struggling against the urge to sag into him as his arms tightened and his jaw lowered to rest on her shoulder. She thought about fighting him but didn't. This...wasn't fair. He closed his eyes and relaxed into her, drawing out his embrace until it had surely unnerved her. He cherished the moment, the way the soft moonlight played off her skin, the way it revealed a sadness she could no longer hide. He felt her tremble slightly and he frowned again, for he was the reason she trembled. He was the reason...she could not be happy.

He pulled away from her and took one of her hands.

"Come...there's something...I'd like to show you."

She became attentive when he then pulled her away, leading her with precision through the forest. She furrowed her brow and followed after, her hand held secured in his.

"Where...are we going?" she asked, fighting passed wayward branches as she struggled for vision. The brush was getting thicker now, so she reached down for the hem of her skirt.

"Someplace...near," he answered, distracted as he tried to navigate the darkness. Sarah continued to frown. Her emotions were...so very confused.

"What was the druid saying?" she asked.

"Hm?"

"What was it saying when it spoke to me?" she clarified. Jareth slowed and glanced back at her.

"It asked...if you truly wished to be there," he answered, lying impulsively. Sarah glanced to the ground.

"So it knew I was a Conquest...what would have happened if I had answered?" she asked.

"That depends...what would your answer have been?" he countered, his voice more terse than before. Sarah pursed her lips. She just...didn't care anymore.

"Can I...take off this crown?" she asked. The twigs were awkward and kept poking into her scalp. Jareth stopped and turned back to her, reaching out hastily when she started removing them herself.

"-No -Actually," he said, impeding her movements and being careful not to disrupt the crown. She lowered her hands to appease him and stood still as he carefully lifted it from her head. "These are more than just twigs," he informed, staring down at the delicate thing before sending it away in a poof. "This was a gift from the druid, a gift from God -Nature. You must treasure it," he said, then turned around to inspect their surroundings. Sarah bit her lip and pouted a little.

"Why did you call me Sorcha?" she asked, feigning an interest as a means of distraction. Jareth peered back as he raised the branch of a tree out of their way.

"Because that is your name...that is how it translates in my tongue. It means...a bright, radiant light," he said, to which Sarah said nothing. Her gaze stayed lowered, more concerned over the grime steadily working its way up the train of her gown than anything else.

"And Mistress...why did it call me Mistress...and...Almother?" she asked. That part wasn't in Roldan's script. She wasn't sure the significance of the creature's ad-libbing. There was a pause before giving his response.

"There are words..." he started and thought carefully on how to proceed. "That don't quite translate between our languages. After you spoke, I believe the druid picked up on your native tongue and decided to speak for you...as best it could. The Almother...is what we refer to as Mother Nature. I.. told you before...we view women as conduits, personifications of mother nature. So...in a ceremonial sense, you were the Almother," he explained in both truth and not. Unknown to anyone but him, even the summoners, the druid's words back there had been much more than symbolic. It could sense Liana within her. It could sense something not of this world. It had asked to be welcomed home, it had asked for Liana's blessing to pass back into the spirit world. He never thought...even a druid would show such deference.

In a moment of hesitation he glanced back, his eyes fixating on the faint glint of the chain that hung from her neck, making sure it was indeed there. They were venturing further into the forest, he was taking a chance. But...no. No, he would not allow himself to be controlled by Liana. Sarah was perfectly safe. She would be perfectly safe...with him.

Sarah drew her brow as she thought. That seemed to make sense.

"Oh..." was all she could say. With no more inquiries, she turned her attention back to him, looking up to find he was glancing around with some focus. "Are we lost?" she asked, stopping close behind him and peering around. Jareth flashed a smirk in the darkness.

"No. We are not lost. I'm simply listening," he said and Sarah's expression became worried.

"For what?" He turned back to her with a slight grin.

"Perhaps you should do the same and you might know," he suggested, playfully. Sarah frowned and looked away. The delight in his eyes was...far too sincere. She closed her own and focused. She hadn't heard anything before, nothing more than the sound of crickets and rodents, but as she relaxed something new came forward. It sounded like...waves.

"Water?" she asked, peering up to Jareth just as his smile widened.

"Very good," he said and took her hand once more. They started walking and she noticed the sound getting louder.

"Is there a river up ahead?" she asked, curious to why Jareth seemed to be steadily growing in excitement. He smiled again and pulled her to walk closer to his side rather than behind him.

"Not quite," he said and gestured for her to look up ahead. "See that light over there?" he asked and she narrowed her eyes on the slight luminescence hidden behind the trees.

"Barely," she said. He stopped to help her over a log she hadn't seen was there.

"Don't worry, your eyes will adjust," he assured her, though she had half a mind to remind him he was the fae here and not her. They kept walking towards the sound and gradually the light became brighter.

The sound of running water filled her ears and she stepped carefully over a row of bushes as Jareth led her into the open. She took a step forward, hard rocks shifting under her feet, and then paused.

"A waterfall?"

Sarah released Jareth's hand as she stepped away from him. They were in an alcove, a small oasis carved from the forest. There was a pond, meager in size, and above it fell a lovely waterfall. The dense canopy once shielding them now opened up to reveal the clearest and most vivid of night skies. The stars twinkled, reflecting delicately upon the water's surface. The glow they had seen revealed itself to emanate from the very base of the waterfall, a soft light that shone as the water splashed, slight ripples of light radiating towards their very feet. She took another step forward and felt Jareth give an instinctive tug on her hand.

"Careful, the rocks can be sharp," he warned, reminding her of her bare and frozen feet. She nodded but otherwise ignored him, stepping precariously towards the water's edge.

"What is this place?" she asked. The glow of the water mixed with night sky gave everything a silvery hue. It was so serene in its isolation. So beautiful.

"It's a secret," Jareth said, and Sarah glanced back with a raised brow, not sure how she was supposed to take his comment. He joined her by the water's edge and reached down for a rock. "Here, skip it," he said and handed it to her. She accepted but shook her head.

"I don't know how to do that," she said. Jareth smiled and looked ahead.

"That's fine. Just toss it then." She furrowed her brow skeptically, though turned and did as he said. She tossed the rock and heard the plunk of its landing as it sank. Her eyes widened then. The ripples of its impact, they glowed brightly.

"Wha? It glows?" she asked. Jareth reached down again, tossing a pebble up and down in his hand before skipping it deftly across the pond. Four little taps and in each spot the water glowed, an odd fluorescence that radiated and then dimmed. She looked back to Jareth in confusion, this time watching as he knelt down, digging out a far bigger rock.

"Hm, give this a toss," he said, plopping it in her arms and reveling in the perplexing stare it earned him. Sarah turned, biting her lip as she thought about how dirty her dress must now be. Oh well. She lifted the rock onto one shoulder and sent it hauling as far as she could.

It landed loudly, sending a big slash that nearly reached them. The light from its impact shone even brighter than the rest, but that was not what surprised her. The sudden disturbance had startled the fish below, several of which went scattering every which way. Their bodies burst into light as they fluttered and then no sooner faded, the depths of the pond returning to a dark stillness. She turned back to Jareth with a more fervent expression.

"Whoa what? Why did they glow?" she asked. Jareth took a step to the side and smiled to himself. There was a light in her eyes just then, something she couldn't keep concealed no matter how hard she tried. He was determined to win it out of her.

"There's a bacteria in the water. It emits a light when stirred. All of the fish in this pond are infested with it," he explained and her eyes fell to his hand when he summoned a crystal. He twirled it and then it became two, and then three and four, until somehow an entire pyramid spun in his palm. Sarah waited expectantly as he then tossed the lot into the air dramatically and they flew to hover over the entire pond. She watched eagerly as they dropped into the water, curious to what he had planned next.

"What are you doing?" she asked and he smiled with knowing.

"Watch."

She turned and stared at the pond, waiting patiently. She began to feel something then, a subtle vibration. Suddenly the entire pond sprang to life, bursting into a wild display of light as fish jumped and fumbled and fluttered into the air. The surface wracked, waves disrupting one another, violent ripples resulting in lavish lambent flashes. The ruckus radiated outward, the vibration spreading beneath her feet and suddenly the bushes surrounding them began to quake. Sarah peered around, mildly alarmed when a sudden surge of insects rose from the underbrush, a torrent of crackling fireflies that sparkled like the most magical of fire. They rose through the air hovering around them and Sarah...couldn't stop gaping.

"Jareth..." she murmured, turning all around at the enchanting display. The fish settled down, but now swam amongst themselves of graceful curves, drawing the most delicate patterns upon the water. The intensity of the insects too faded, though lingered, creating a slow moving haze about the area that gave its aura of silver a most contrasting and captivating tinge of gold.

"Do you like it?"

She turned around to Jareth with a look of awe. Only in this place could there be something so beautiful. She was about to smile, in fact maybe she already had, but reality caught up to her and she humbled her features quickly.

"Yes," she said, admitting no more than simple appreciation. "It's lovely." She looked away, back to the scenery, marveling in its ethereal gleam. He stepped back towards her again, standing by her side though careful not to touch her.

"I told you this was something of a secret. What I meant was I sometimes come here to be alone...I've never brought anyone else," he said, his gaze straight ahead when hers peered up to him discreetly. He was smiling, a calm and sated expression. His arms were crossed leisurely and she couldn't help but appreciate how splendid it was. He looked...so very handsome.

"I see..." she said, crossing her own arms and glancing away. The more she allowed herself to enjoy this...the more guilty it made her feel. Jareth peered down and tilted his head.

"Are you growing cold?" he asked, misinterpreting her mannerism. Sarah glanced up and shrugged. She didn't expect him to smile then, nor reach out for her hand. "Well then, allow me to reveal the rest of what I have to show you."

Her brow became puzzled, but she took his hand and followed as he turned away from the pond. They walked around, towards the other side, and that's when she spotted the glow of a window lurking from just within the trees.

"What is that?" she asked.

"_Hmph_, that would be a door," Jareth answered, teasingly and left her to pout behind him as they approached it. He turned the knob and swung it open, then gestured for her to go inside. "After you."

She entered to find themselves in a cabin. It was small, compared to the castle at least, and lit with a dim light upon entering. She took a step in, wary yet intrigued. Everything was made of wood, the furniture humble and rustic, the decorations surprisingly...ordinary. Her curiosity finally piqued when Jareth closed the door and moved straight into another room, walking past her and disappearing around the corner like he owned the place. Oh, wait a minute.

She took another step in, her eyes inspecting with great interest. There were no wild paintings here. No grandiose accents of molding or marble. There were shelves. There was a dresser. There was a couch and a hearth, a very classic landscape decorating its mantel. She ran her hand along a side table and realized...it was covered with dust.

Her footsteps seemed to echo as she passed through the tiny room. The ceiling was much lower than those in the castle, the atmosphere much more...cozy. She looked down to her feet, upset that she was tracking mud on the floor.

She looked around, wondering where Jareth had run off to so swiftly. To her right was a staircase that went up, beside it another door. In front of her was the living area, the mystery space behind the stairs the place Jareth had vanished to. She moved to sit on the couch, wondering quite somberly why they were even here. Why he was even bothering. _He got what he wanted..._

The fire clicked on and roared to life, filling the room with a brighter warmer light. There was a throw rug on the floor in front of her and her eyes became absent on it as they traveled along its pattern, through the fringed tassels and worn out tears.

She heard a noise then, a clank of some kind. She was about to turn around when the sound of footsteps approaching answered her concern.

She sat quietly as Jareth reentered the room, not bothering to look back at him. Her spirits had fallen drastically in the minute he'd left her alone. She found it hard to raise her gaze from the floor. Her gaze did widen however, when the sight of a steaming bowl of water filled her view.

She peered up to find Jareth kneeling before her. Again.

He'd removed his cape, donned now in but his tailcoat, his collar high and his cravat low and ruffled. She hadn't had the chance to inspect him this closely yet, though it seemed she'd missed her chance to appreciate the details of his full grandeur. He was missing his gloves. The cuffs on his coat were undone and he pushed up his sleeves passed his elbows. He'd also undone the broach at the center of his throat, loosening the layers of kerchief she loved seeing on him so much. She'd begun to frown unwittingly, wondering why he was on his knees yet again.

He reached out and pushed the skirt of her dress over her knees.

"What are you doing?" she asked. He pulled on one of her ankles and set her foot in the water.

"Is that too warm?" he asked. Sarah scowled intently.

"...No."

"Good."

He revealed a cloth that had been wading in the bucket and began to wipe the dirt from her feet. Sarah's frown deepened.

"...What are you doing?" she repeated. Jareth's eyes stayed low as he tilted his head, regarding her toes as they curled nervously in his grasp.

"Exactly what it looks like," he answered, placing her one foot down and reaching for the other. For a look of outrage as strong as the one Sarah was giving him, she did surprisingly little to stop him.

"You don't have to do that," she said, caught off guard by the gesture. She wanted to assert that she could do it herself, but the words stayed buried. His hands caressed her gently, the cloth upon her skin moving slow and deliberately with tenderness.

"I want to," he said, making it seem like she had no choice in the matter, though she had a suspicion he had used such a tone on purpose. He was trying...to appease her. He was trying to lessen the fact... She only frowned harder as she made this realization. She was right when she'd told Marie that Jareth could be wracked with guilt over the things he'd done, but it would never be enough for him to let her go. It was clear to both of them that he had gotten exactly what he wanted...only now he was trying...what was he trying to do exactly? "I noticed your feet had gotten wet in the pond...if it isn't washed off soon you might start glowing," he added, trying to explain his motivations it seemed. Sarah sat back and let him have his way, staring at him with much contemplation as he did so. It was just like _that time_. He was tip-toeing again. She didn't like it. Didn't like how it forced her to do the same.

"So...what is this place? Out in the middle of the woods..." She asked and began to glance around again. It felt very different than any of the other places she'd been to in the Underground. Almost like a home in the Above. Jareth's gaze became wayward as he stared at his hand slowly moving down her calf.

"Again, it was...a secret." His voice had softened, lost in a thought and he realized he was in a daze. He rose his brow and took his eyes from the soft glisten of her skin. "I...discovered it one day...while out on a hunt," he explained. Sarah looked down to him and tilted her head.

"Who built it?" she asked and he paused as a smile flickered to and away from his face. He dipped the cloth in the bucket and rung out the excess water.

"Curious that question is," he said and resumed washing her feet. To be honest, they were perfectly clean, he simply didn't know what else to do once he stopped. Keeping his hands busy, he was...how pathetic of him. "When I first happened upon it, I had no idea it even existed and I found that rather odd, wouldn't you agree?" he asked and she nodded. The almighty Jareth _not _knowing something? Very strange indeed. "It was abandoned, resting undisturbed for centuries...I was curious, so when I returned home I began to investigate and was surprised to find absolutely no record of it whatsoever." By now he'd abandoned her feet, instead reaching up for her hand and she recoiled reflexively until she realized his intention. He took her tentative fist and uncurled it, gently wiping away the dried blood from her palm. "It...became a bit of a pet project then. A distraction. My own little mystery to unravel. I was...quite young then, you see. I spent days, weeks even, digging up lost documents, trying to find anything that mentioned a cabin in the woods." He seemed to linger as he finished cleansing her hand, his thumb traveling down it slowly and then he looked away, back to the bucket, wringing out the cloth once more.

"No one knew where it came from? Maybe it was built by a subject?" she suggested. Jareth shook his head. His hands had snuck their way back to her, though he'd forgotten the cloth, simply holding and caressing her leg. She tried not to seem overly aware of it, but her toes wiggled of their own accord.

"No, we are still technically on castle grounds. Anything commissioned would have needed to be sanctioned by the crown. But even still, it would have been easier if it were simply a matter of public record." His hands pressed against her feet more firmly as he spoke and she watched him carefully. It was a mannerism of uncertainty that she recognized and it seemed...they were fidgeting together. She tried to subtly pull her legs from his grip, but wasn't very successful. He looked down then, down at her feet wading in the bucket. They were attempting to fold over one another nervously. He smiled and carried on. "No...this was something else and finally, after hours and hours of inquiry, I found the one thing I'd been looking for. A ledger, a record of invoices...deliveries of food and water made to this place. I was very excited to make this discovery, and also very confused...for they were signed by Queen Elamae...my great-grandmother."

Sarah furrowed her brow then, skeptically.

"Elamae? But...I read your lineage book. It said there were only a few generations between you and Exelion, and I don't remember anything about an Elamae," she said. Jareth shrugged and smiled again.

"You shouldn't trust information simply because it is in a book...The one you speak of may...have been altered," he said and peered up to her. She was staring at him expectantly. "My father had a habit of trying to forge his own legacy, creating for himself a reputation that he thought well-deserved. He did a great many things to further this endeavor, including the rewriting of ancient texts to better suit his character, even going so far as to rewrite history itself," he explained and Sarah frowned. Very rarely did Jareth mention his family.

"Why would he rewrite your family tree?" she asked, not able to understand that at all. Again Jareth shrugged and glanced down.

"He thought...it would be more _impressive_ to have a closer blood connection to our great ancestor Exelion, and he also thought it beneficial to remove any affiliations with some of our less than remarkable progenitors...he chose the most notable of our family and created a new limited genealogy of strong, powerful, _notable_ rulers that led straight to him," he said, his expression beside itself and she scowled in accordance.

"But that's...ridiculous. You can't just erase people from history. Surely that didn't work?" she asked.

"You're correct, it was ridiculous, completely asinine, idiotic even. But, that was what he did...True, older more prominent members of the aristocracy knew better and mocked him for his efforts, but our own subjects? The everyday hobs and cretins we rule over? They didn't know any better, and with a more epic fearsome reputation, my father believed he could rule them with a stronger hand."

Sarah's scowl deepened, unable to believe that a king had gone through such disrespectful and vain means just to trick his subjects into submission and raise his own ego. But Jareth...the way he smiled and shook his head let her know that was indeed the truth and he found it just as unbelievable as she. Hm...maybe the apple fell a little further than she'd thought.

"So...how many generations are there in your family then?" she asked. Jareth quirked a brow. It seemed Roldan had skipped over this in their lessons...

"To be honest? I don't know. I can no longer trust the texts in my custody. At one point I reached out to the neighboring kingdoms, requesting any records they might possess...hoping that by cross-referencing what should be more authentic documents, I might restore our proper lineage. I soon realized it was a doomed effort however, though I did the best I could."

"I see...so Elamae?"

"Yes, Elamae," he said, getting his thoughts back on track. "Elamae was the first wife of my great-grandfather Prodieth. Having our family records all askew didn't help in my investigation, but finally knowing her identity was something. In my research I discovered she had commissioned this cabin far from the castle as a means of refuge."

"Refuge?" Sarah repeated and Jareth paused, just now realizing he should be tentative in continuing the story.

"Yes...from her husband." He released her ankles and leaned back to sit on the floor. Sarah was frowning at him, he was sure of it, but he couldn't bring himself to meet such an expression. Damn it, he shouldn't have been so careless.

"So she was unhappy as well. Have there been any marriages in your family that weren't foul?" Sarah asked, a surprising flare of anger rising in her voice. She checked it immediately however and scowled, realizing her words were out of place. After all, her knowledge of his parents came from Mariella. To Jareth's awareness, she knew absolutely nothing about his family's history. She saw the way he flinched at her words however, frowning in the shadows cast upon him by the fire, and she bit the inside of her cheek. "I'm sorry I...I didn't-"

"Elamae and Prodieth were not initially...unhappy," he said, bitterly. Sarah began to nibble her lip. He glanced away, fighting back whatever demons had sprung forth and fisted his hands against the carpet.

"Then why would she need a refuge from him?" she asked, and watched as the tension in Jareth's expression softened.

"Because certain things...cannot be helped," he said. Her eyes were on his, but he spied her attention from his peripheral and she looked away when he turned back to face her. "Though I never met either of them...during my research I came across many things, including an elder who had. Elamae was the daughter of a peasant. She lived in a small village on the border between here and Meyhaven. Under usual circumstances, they would have never crossed paths. Her station was far too meager. However, Prodieth had passed through her village on his way to king Alnael's court in Meyhaven, I believe it was a storm that had forced them to take an unfamiliar route. Her father owned the inn they stayed at. It seemed Prodieth delighted in the idea of concealing his identity, and did so often, and so he pretended to be a traveling merchant, observing how his subjects lived when not cowering under his scrutiny. He met Elamae that night and...to my understanding they fell a great deal in love. They were wed soon after and it seemed all was a call for rejoice in the Goblin Kingdom-"

"So what happened?" Sarah interrupted, her gaze strong and fixed on the story he was telling. Jareth glanced back to her, something of pity in his eyes.

"Time...time is what happened," he said, shifting his position on the floor. Sarah frowned. She wasn't going to like the remainder of this story. "You see...Elamae was herself a humble villein while Prodieth the most illustrious of social butterflies. She had never been exposed to court life and found herself both unwelcome and immensely homesick. She would travel back often, and for a time this sated her melancholy. That is until one day...You see, back then, nations were much less stable, their borders were blurred and a place many felt ungoverned by any one faction. Gangs of marauders proved quite annoying...and it seemed one such group had raided and then burned the entirety of Elamae's village to the ground."

Sarah's eyes widened but she kept quiet, transfixed on Jareth's next word.

"I was told she was...devastated by the news. She traveled there immediately but only found ash. The bodies of her family...I'm not sure if they were ever recovered. She fell into a deep depression then, the steady drain of court life feeding on what was left of her. As you might imagine, this put quite the strain on their marriage. Try as he may, Prodieth found his efforts to win back his wife left in vain and...over time grew impatient with her. They began to resent one another, each expecting something the other could not give. She had yet to bear him an heir and it was even rumored that she was in fact barren. They began to detest one another, until finally she released him to marry another. He moved on from her quickly and it seemed she could not bear to live in such a stifling house. So she had this built, in the same fashion as her childhood home. She kept it in secret and came here often, to be with nature and... to be alone."

"I see...That's terrible," Sarah said, glancing to the floor as she frowned. Jareth cocked a brow and looked away, feeling a different kind of resentment. It wasn't the tale of woe that affected him, but how he knew it would affect her. He honestly felt nothing in regards to his pitiful fore-bearers. If anything, it angered him that they could give up on their lives so easily. It was one thing to revel when love was bliss, it was another to endure it when it became torture. To him, such devotion proved the strength of one's character. True love was relentless. It was abiding. It might change, it might break or contort, but if never faded. It never died and it certainly never gave up. A love as green and foolhardy as his ancestor's? It was weak. It was ignorant, and could have been nothing but doomed from the start. But, if he revealed to her such coldheartedness he knew he would immediately regret it.

"I suppose...However I believe there is wisdom to be gained," he said and she glared up to him.

"What? That nothing gold can stay?" she asked. Jareth smiled and held back a huff of laughter.

"If you choose to view it so cynically, yes," he said. Sarah narrowed her eyes on him.

"You think there's something positive to derive from that story?"

Jareth shot her an eye and leaned back.

"Positive? I wouldn't say positive but...most certainly constructive," he said, then glanced away discreetly. "Knowing what came before...I believe helps one to prepare themselves when combating their own fate."

Sarah folded her arms and scowled, her pesky sense of petulance rearing its ugly head.

"I don't believe in fate. People make choices. Those choices have ramifications. I think what most people refer to as _fate_ is simply their inability to accept the consequences of their own actions," she said, though neither was sure whom of them she was lecturing. Jareth regarded her for a moment then tilted his head to the side.

"So cynical. Do you truly not believe there are some things that are simply meant to be? That no matter what, certain facts of life simply cannot be changed?" he asked. She relaxed a bit and glanced down to him.

"So you're saying all that travesty was fated?" she asked, deflecting from the actual question. Jareth rolled his eyes.

"No...I'm saying that a person's emotions are not always left up to something as objective as a choice. They are what they are. It would be easy to say Elamae could have simply _chosen_ to accept what happened and moved on. It would be easy to say that Prodieth could have _chosen_ to be more patient and supportive of her. But perhaps their feelings of love were not strong enough to endure it in the first place, and neither was that their choice nor their fault."

Sarah stared at him for a moment, deep suspicion churning about her eyes.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd accuse you of being quite the romantic right now," she said, and to that he laughed. He sat up a little and shifted into a more comfortable position.

"Yes well...it isn't often I get to share my philosophies on such issues."

He glanced away then, an almost bashful gesture and Sarah realized just how right he was. How often did they really talk about things? About their opinions and beliefs? They screamed at each other so often, but hardly did they actually listen. There were times when she felt like she knew so little about him and yet...she was afraid to actually talk. The nature of their relationship was so impulsive, even when alone, rarely did they have real moments like this.

"Hey...you said she was your great-grandmother right?" she suddenly asked, distraction carrying her away. Jareth turned his gaze back to her. "That means she had to have given birth to a child. But, if they were estranged..." she added, her voice falling as she thought. Jareth's expression softened.

"Yes. She did," he answered and she peered up from her contemplations. "And records say it was undoubtedly Prodieth's." Her brow started to draw then and he now found it hard to keep his eyes on hers. "Although I do not think...you would wish to know under what circumstances it was conceived," he added and her brow drew tight. "According to record...she started coming here during the early months of her pregnancy. She became...depressed and reclusive. Time...can be a monstrous thing...if you do not have the strength to withstand it," he said, the atmosphere in the room turning grim as Sarah shook her head. Jareth turned away, knowing what discomfort this must bring her. It was said that history repeats itself, and she was right in inferring that his family possessed an almost hereditary inclination to destroy the ones they were supposed to love. There were many parallels between this story and their own, so many that he in fact regretted telling it. But that was precisely why he needed her. He needed someone to endure it with him. Someone who was strong enough to pull him through that darkness...to standby and withstand it. To withstand _time_. He could not say these things of course. She would not understand. But, if there was anything she might take from this story, it was how cruel he _hadn't _been, and not how similar but how _different _their own story could be. Any tale could have a happy ending, even those with the most grim overtures. A merry prelude said nothing of a story's substance and gave no surety of its end. So Sarah did not believe in fate? Good, he thought. It gave him further hope that she might somehow stop him...from falling back into his.

They were quiet for a moment, the gravity of Jareth's tale sinking in. He was waiting for her to bring up their own relationship...how comparable and inevitable it all was. He was waiting to tell her she was wrong, that he was so much stronger than his ancestor and that if given the chance his love would endure anything. She said nothing like this however, instead she just...frowned.

"You said you come here to be alone...why did you bring me?" she asked, catching him off guard. What he didn't realize was that her thoughts had only turned more pitiful. She didn't understand why he treated her the was he did, why everyone said it was _so different_. What about her was so damn special...

He reached forward then and dried her feet with another cloth, then gradually stood, taking the bucket in tow. She was staring down, her frown humble and her gaze vacant. He committed that image to memory, storing it amongst a dozen others that reminded him of why he needed her, of the selfishness that imposed such a heavy burden upon her shoulders. Yet, for as much as he wanted to lift that burden, he knew he never would. He needed her to bear it, for in the short time they'd been together he now realized...that he never could.

"I told you," he said and glared away. "I no longer desire to be left alone."

She stared at nothing as he left her, taking the bucket with him. His words...though they were troubled and he said them sternly they brought faint warmth to her heart. He wanted her with him...that much she had always been certain of. The question was why. She heard the sound of water, another clank, and wondered if it was a kitchen on the other side of the stairs. She almost smiled at the thought, not being able to picture Jareth doing something as domestic as using the kitchen sink. But, like every other time that night, she realized she might be experiencing something like joy and soon the smile in whatever form it was fell lax from her face. After a story like that, how could she possibly smile? But regardless, she wasn't supposed to feel happiness this night. She wasn't supposed to feel...

She took a deep breath and glared away, the bodice of her gown randomly starting to annoy her. She started shifting, trying to loosen it up a bit.

"There is a bedroom upstairs...if you'd like to change."

She peered back to find Jareth watching her, and so watched him as he reentered the room. He seemed tentative now, tentative to grace her with his presence at all. Whatever bad vibes Sarah was emitting, it seemed he was definitely picking them up.

"Really? Are you...sure?" she asked, not sure what she was really asking. She stood slowly and moved around the couch to face him. He gave her a smirk and looked to the floor.

"I'm sure you can't wait to get out of that dress...it's absolutely filthy," he said and she frowned at how obvious his undertone was. It made her reluctant, but still she shied away from it, turning towards the stairs.

"There aren't three-thousand-year-old negligee's up there are there?" she asked, trying to keep the mood light for both their sake. Jareth flashed a smirk and quirked a brow.

"If anything, they would be somewhere around fifty-five-thousand, if not more. But no, nothing but the freshest of linens for_...you_." His voice cut off painfully, as it was clear he'd come dangerously close to calling her by a different pronoun. Sarah glanced down, not sure how she felt about such a fumble.

"I...would expect nothing less," she said, feigning a smile and turned to head up the stairs. She felt herself let out a deep breath the moment he was out of sight. This was getting so fucking awkward she couldn't stand it. They were both acting like kicked puppies and she had no idea how to handle it. Her emotions were all over the place...and Jareth?

It was dark at the top of the stairwell, a lone door awaiting her. She opened it carefully and its hinges creaked obnoxiously.

She stepped inside but no lights came on. Instead the room was illuminated by that of the moon outside, pouring in through two large windows that framed a bed. The floorboards ached beneath her feet, old and not well maintained. The furniture up here was just as sparse, much of it covered with sheets. She noticed the bed was made however. Not a spec of dust falling on it.

Sarah frowned as she realized she had no idea how to get her dress off.

Her brow drew and she stared ahead blankly as a flare of pity then managed to worm its way in, and in that moment she felt...so very helpless. _Damn it._ She scowled quickly and closed her eyes, letting out a swift exhale and shook her head clear of any such thoughts. This was not the time...she couldn't afford any more cracks. She reached back, struggling to undo the first couple of hooks, but her arms soon strained and she gave up. It was no use. She had very little fight in her tonight and cursed herself for being so pathetic. The feeling of butterflies churned in her stomach and she struggled to maintain her hardened facade. She closed her eyes and just stood there for a moment...Her nerves, they needed to just go away.

She flinched at the feeling of her hair being brushed from her neck. She turned fractionally, her eyes lowered as she spied Jareth standing behind her, and she curled her arms around herself. He stared down at her silently, setting the mass of her hair over one shoulder and then ran a hand lightly down her spine.

"I realized...you may need some help," he said, his knuckles moving slowly down her back. "May I?" he asked, his voice lowered, hushed in the darkness. Sarah looked away and reluctantly nodded.

He undid the first hook, the sound much louder to her than it should have been, and the flutter in her stomach turned to a surge. She stared out the window, biting her lip and forcing her breathing not to waver. He'd caught her at a disadvantage. Did he even realize it? He moved slowly down her back, one hook at a time and she couldn't stand how on edge it made her. There was an air of _expectation_ looming around them. It was stifling. She swallowed hard and looked to the floor, simply waiting for the inevitable caress that was soon to follow.

He reached the base of her back, undid the last clip and then stepped away.

Sarah felt the bodice loosen around her and reached up to keep it in place, then glanced back in confusion. He'd moved to the dresser, opened a drawer and pulled out a long nightgown. He then moved to lay it over the bed and paused to look back up at her.

"There is a bath through that door...if you wish," he said and she furrowed her brow on him.

"I...don't understand," she said and he stepped towards her again. She turned back around and looked to the floor, the skin of her back tingling when he started to remove the flowers from her hair.

"Sarah I...I understand what it is you have given me tonight," he said and she felt her breath hitch when his hand brushed against the back of her neck. "_Unlike Prodieth_, I...will not ask for anything more." He removed the rest of the flowers and conjured her little wooden box, filling them inside and then reached around to place it in her hands. The feeling of his arms circling around her, of his torso as it pressed against her back, it had a heat building in her eyes and she bit her lip as she struggled for decisiveness. He pulled away, his hands lingering around her shoulders as he thought and then, without another word, released her and casually left the room.

Sarah stood in place, blinking dumbly at the empty doorway Jareth once filled. He'd gone back downstairs. Just like that. No lechery. No perversions. No tolling of nuptial bells. She opened her mouth and blinked in disconcertion. Her heartbeat had begun to quicken and she wondered why she felt so unbelievably disappointed.

She turned away from the door, shocked by her own reaction. This should have made her happy. He was being restrained, respectful of her boundaries. She didn't understand...wasn't removing the wedding dress supposed to be a big deal? Wasn't it supposed to be romantic and special and-

And then she realized what her problem had been all along. This wasn't how it was supposed to be. Not in the slightest. Her wedding night was supposed to be special. It was supposed to be filled with love and joy and celebration. She was supposed to be with her family and friends. Her dad would give her away, Toby would be the ring bearer, her husband would be passionate and tender and they would at the very least be _happy_ to be together...but no. None of that happened and she had none of it. She had emptiness and reluctance. She had Jareth walking away from her. She had...so much guilt. She'd felt guilty this entire time, guilty for feeling disappointed that tonight wasn't everything she'd always wanted it to be. Guilty for wanting all of those things she did not have and for wanting them all...from him.

She felt a rock form in her throat and inhaled deeply through her nose, commanding her eyes not to smart. This was all so pathetic and she hated it. She hated wanting to be swept off her feet. Hated wanting to be made to feel like tonight really mattered. If this had to be against her will then shouldn't it be worth Jareth's while? Shouldn't he be celebrating? Throwing it in her face? What happened to the monster that'd kidnapped her? Goddamn it she was so confused. He was actually respecting her and she wanted something else entirely. She didn't understand herself. Not at all. She'd told herself tonight was meant to be miserable, that it was the key turning in her lock, but she...she didn't feel trapped. She didn't feel like it was the end of the world. She was a true masochist for wanting to be made a victim, for forcing herself to reject any kind of joy tonight might bring her, but her conscience...it was too much.

She composed herself and changed out of her wedding dress, laying it neatly over the back of a chair. She put on her nightgown and stared at the bed. It was obvious Jareth intended them to stay the night there and she...wanted to run so far away.

Her venture down the stairs was awkward and she stood for a moment to survey the room. Jareth had his back to her, sitting on the couch with a drink in hand. He watched the fire silently, like his thoughts had been cast far away.

She moved to sit on the couch beside him.

"So...we're staying the night here, then?" she asked, breaking the silence. Jareth took a sip of his drink and reclined a bit.

"I thought we might as well...I know it's no vacation but..." and his voice trailed off, perhaps realizing how asinine he sounded. Sarah frowned and folded her hands in her lap. She hadn't expected him to act like this. It was making things difficult...

"No it's...it's nice. I like it here...it reminds me of home," she said, staring into her lap as she spoke. Jareth's grip tightened around his chalice and he stared more intently at the fire.

"I thought it might," he replied, his tone somewhat clipped. Sarah bit her lip, wondering if she should have just stayed upstairs.

"You know what I just realized?" she asked and he quirked her a brow. "In the book it said your dad had two brothers...if he rewrote it why did he include them?" she asked. A nasty smile stole Jareth's face then and he glanced away as he took another sip. He'd removed his coat, she noticed, something else that made her frown.

"Because he killed them," he said and her eyes widened. "And he wanted to make sure everyone remembered it." She drew her brow and looked at him quite frantically.

"Why?" she asked, bemused. Jareth shrugged with indifference.

"It's been noted that the monarchs in my family have an inclination to murder their siblings," he explained, candidly. Sarah only became more upset.

"What?" she asked. Jareth turned to her with half a grin.

"Mhm. To be honest, it's a wonder I have yet to slay my own brother...given his behavior as of late." He spoke teasingly but Sarah wasn't sure.

"You're joking right?" she asked, with mild horror, a feeling which only grew with the way he shrugged off her question dismissively.

"Not particularly," he said, without interest and looked back towards the fire. Sarah stared at him, trying to figure him out and chose to believe he was joking.

"That's not funny," she said, crossing her arms and trying to snuggle into her spot. It had gotten rather late and with the stress of the day had her feeling very tired. Jareth saw this and looked away.

"If you're tired, you can go to bed," he said and she turned to face him.

"What about you? Just going to sit there and drink all night?" She hadn't meant to sound snarky, but of course she did. Jareth huffed through his nose, his response to her a long swig from his drink.

"I was considering it," he answered and she frowned yet again. He was starting to act like he was the one regretting this marriage, not her. That wasn't fair. He'd had the power to stop it and yet he had pulled her right along. While one part of her was glad he felt any level of conflict, the more spiteful part of her said he had no right at all. If he was going to second guess himself then he shouldn't have put them through it in the first place. He should own up to his decisions, this one more than any other. He should stop confusing her and just...be the villain. But was that what she wanted? And what would that make her? Victor? Victim? She just didn't know. She didn't know anything anymore.

She would not admit that she missed his boasting and egotistic nature, though she would admit that its absence now of all times deeply unnerved her. This was something he'd been lording over her for so long, and yet now that it was actually here she couldn't quite fathom why, for the both of them, it felt like...such a letdown.

"Can I have some?"

Jareth peered over with surprise, his brow raising at her request. Her gaze was wide, expectant, and he smiled at how naive such an expression made her appear.

He turned away and poured her own glass.

She took the cup from Jareth's hands and stared into it, still traumatized by the black goo from the wedding. Of course, it was merely wine, a deep red as Jareth preferred. She crinkled her nose at it. She really had no taste for red wine, but...alcohol was alcohol and she could really use a drink.

She took a big gulp and grimaced at the after taste. Jareth watched her shrewdly, curious to why she seemed determined to finish it so quickly.

"May I have some more?" she asked, her hand extended patiently. Jareth stared at her skeptically, and then slowly refilled her cup. She took another deep gulp, curling her tongue and tensing her ears as she adjusted to the taste. Jareth's eyes had yet to leave her.

"You may want to pace yourself. This isn't like the champagne from the ball," he warned, frowning when she nodded with fierce resilience.

"I'll be fine," she said, taking one deep sip after another. Jareth thought about intervening, but then turned away in apathy. A little while passed, in silence, and Sarah began to slow down on her drinking. She'd finished her second glass, but was reluctant in asking for more. Her fingers tapped against the side of her cup, hoping a slight buzz would give her confidence. Wordlessly, Jareth summoned a small table between them and placed the pitcher before her. She looked up at him and blinked, as he seemed frustrated all of the sudden. She frowned...then refilled her glass.

She wasn't sure how much time had passed, probably not much at all but her cheeks were starting to warm. She stared at the fire, heavy-lidded and wondered how much of a mess she would be if she actually tried to stand. Jareth hadn't said a word, sipping from his own glass as a gentleman should, and against her initial suspicion it seemed she was in fact the one trying to drown her sorrows. She stared into her cup, almost empty yet again and set it on the table. She was hoping...she was hoping this would settle her nerves and, if not help her to think clearly then at the very least allow her to make a proper decision. Her turmoil felt unchanged however. And the distance between them only spread.

"Your father...seems like a real jerk," she said, her words slurring just slightly. Jareth peered over to her, saw her laden eyes and rosy cheeks, and grinned.

"He was," he responded, watching as she pursed her lips and looked downward.

"I don't think...you are like him," she said, and his eyes widened subtly. His brow began to draw, but it was a change she was unable to see. "I think you think you're like him but...that isn't the same," she continued, shaking her head from side to side. The more she talked the more light-headed she began to feel. Oh, this couldn't be good. "I know you would never do those kinds of things...You're stronger than that...because you care about this kingdom, that's plain as day," she said and Jareth just...stared. To hear those words...for the first time it felt like they had been uttered by someone other than himself. The amount of gratification he took from that one sentence, that one simple expression... He was forced to tear his eyes away and he scowled at the floor. He could feel the brunt of an emotion moving through him and he...needed to keep it concealed.

Sarah waited for him to respond but only frowned at the way he glared at the floor. He seemed bothered, but in her mild stupor she had little patience for such things. She reached out impulsively, about to clasp his hand but then stopped. She held her hand in mid-air and could see his eyes had turned towards her. She opened her mouth but the words died along with the gesture and instead she pulled away. She looked down into her lap, defeated by her own self and frowned. She was getting emotional again, pity working its way through her sinuses in a most pathetic manner. He had yet to say anything and she thought he may be recoiling from her. That fear was the final straw and she became greatly frustrated.

"I think...I'm going to go to bed," she said, her hands fisting on the skirt of her nightgown. She scowled and blinked uncertainly, hesitating in the foolish hope that something might yet happen. She turned her head towards him slightly, waiting for his consent.

"Think you can make it up the stairs?" he asked, shutting her out. Sarah scowled hard then and looked away, feeling more foolish than ever and stood to take her leave.

"I'll be just fine..." she said and left.

* * *

Jareth found himself sighing in frustration once Sarah had finally gone. He ran his hands through his hair and scowled, cursing his damn incompetence. He sagged in his seat and stared up at the ceiling. He felt so unbalanced. At wit's end. He thought he would be able to enjoy this night. He thought he could keep her from ruining it for him but...he'd only succeeded in ruining it himself.

No matter what, he couldn't shake this terrible feeling, this...sense of guilt that had shattered them completely. At first he thought he would appease her, that showing her his vulnerability, his awareness of her situation would help her come around. He was not so cold-hearted, yes, it was true. So why, why had she turned away from him so sharply? Was that not what she wanted? For him to comprehend her pain? She was filled with such sadness, and yes he understood her perfectly. She longed for her home. She wanted nothing to do with him. Nothing to do with this marriage. She'd made that perfectly clear but...but his pull towards her was so strong. He wanted to reach out, to be with her, to love her endlessly. She seemed filled with such bitter disappointment, but what exactly had let her down? What had he done wrong?! He was trying so hard but he just -he didn't know what she wanted- when all he wanted...was her.

He remained beside the fire for a long while, unable to sort out his contention. Liana...this was about Liana. But he told himself...he'd deluded himself in vowing that it was all _for_ Sarah. It was for them...But now he felt lost. He felt confused. Was this what she had warned him about? He'd waited for this for five-hundred years. At what point...had be begun to regret his scheming?

* * *

Sarah stared absently into the darkness as she tried to sleep. She'd closed her eyes, tried her best to relax, but it was no good. She felt so unhappy she just couldn't handle it. But it was...it was somehow different. It was a feeling she'd never quite experienced before. It felt like every step she'd taken tonight had been wrong, but it was not her morals that were offended. No, it was her heart. It felt like it was breaking. She didn't understand, not in the slightest, and yet she knew...she knew with keen awareness what she wanted.

She closed her eyes and bit her lip, chastising herself for being such a terrible sinner. Admitting what she wanted felt like a betrayal of her family, a betrayal of the person she thought she was. Who was she now? Who had she become? Had she been that person all along? She'd had this problem before, the problem of her emotions contrasting perfectly with her mores, but this time she just wasn't strong enough. She'd acted like it didn't matter, like her actions held no consequence but they did. She'd allowed him to worm under her skin and was now plagued with the realization that she wanted him there. She enjoyed that feeling. Tonight should have been the worst moment in all her miserable life and yet she was nearly in tears over the fact that Jareth had yet to come up the stairs. What was happening to her?

She closed her eyes in somber resolve and took a deep breath. If misery was her goal, then she'd surely accomplished it. It was simply the wrong kind.

When she next opened her eyes it was pitch black out. Her head felt heavy and she realized she'd fallen asleep. A noise had disturbed her and she tried not to move as she noticed Jareth had entered the room.

He was quiet, but the old floorboards gave him away. She heard some shuffling, a drawer opening. She heard his boots hit the floor and the feel of the mattress shifting as he sat on the edge of the bed. She frowned as she listened. He was just sitting there.

After a moment he finally climbed in, sighing softly as he laid down. She wondered what time it was...wondered how long he just sat there staring at the fire.

She was about to relax and closed her eyes once more when she felt him reach over and place his hand on her arm.

She was surprised by how light his touch was, not wanting to disturb her. She frowned intensely then at the feeling of his lips on her shoulder kissing her softly and she panicked. She grimaced when he pulled away, cursing herself as her hand darted up to clasp his.

Jareth paused, startled for just a moment. She swallowed hard and turned fractionally, looking him straight in the eye as their noses touched. She swallowed again, her hand grasping his more firmly; and although he could barely see her, he knew there was something of desperation in her gaze.

His eyes lowered away from hers, observing the way her chest rose with a heavy breath as she tilted her head and kissed him.

Jareth stilled, skeptical he was not in fact dreaming, but the feeling of her lips pressing against his became more firm and his brow furrowed hard. He closed his eyes then, opening his mouth as he kissed her back. He entwined his fingers with hers and held them tightly and she relaxed into his hold, turning towards him and kissing him again, more deeply. He was...so confused.

He lowered their hands to the mattress and brought them above her head as he leaned forward, his free arm coaxing hers around his neck. Then he released her hand and brought his to the side of her face, holding her gently. He kissed her as she kissed him, forever it seemed, until she pulled away and pressed their foreheads together, taking a deep, trembling breath.

"I...hate you," she said, and he held onto her more tightly. Her breathing was getting heavy, her nerves painfully exhausted. Jareth frowned and let out a low exhale.

"I know," he said, both understanding that they were talking about something else entirely. "I'm sorry-" he added, though she started shaking her head.

"No, just...just don't." Her voice sounded pitiful as she spoke, as if restraining back tears. It tore his heart in two. He kissed her again, kissed her for all he was worth.

He leaned over her and she bent a knee. His hand traveled up it, under her gown and to her thigh, curving around her rear and pulling her to him as he moved on top of her. Her arms went around his neck and she grimaced with closed eyes in moral agony. This was wrong. She shouldn't be doing this and yet, feeling his tenderness had been the one thing she'd wanted all along. Her shame consumed her, but the point of it all was becoming more and more elusive. She was his wife now. He was her husband. They were together. She wanted to be together. She continued to combat her emotions as he ground against her, a hand at the base of her thigh as she constricted her knees around him.

To be happy. That's all she wanted. To deserve to be happy and feel a happiness she deserved. If this was it, if this was all she had to gain then fine, it would have to do. She would accept her happiness. It was better than nothing at all.

She murmured and panted as he pushed against her and soon his hand moved down to work free his pants. She pushed them down his legs with her feet and held him to her. He kissed her neck, ardently, and breathed heavily as he positioned himself to enter her, pushing in slow and welcomed eagerly.

He moved with her, staying deep with each thrust. She moaned softly and he kissed her shoulder as the neck of her nightgown fell to expose it. He didn't know what was going on, why she had come to him, but he cherished it. He cherished the passion between them. If nothing else, for better or worse, they would always have passion. And yes, he knew what it meant when they said passion was fleeting, though to Jareth whoever said those words had surely never experienced a moment like this, experienced a passion that bore such longing, that stemmed from pure desperation, the desperation to feel nothing more than whole.

She pulled his face back to hers and held them pressed together. Their sounds were despairing, broken, and she needed it. She needed to hear and feel it from him. She began to moan, his hips arching in that deliberate way of his and she fell into the sheets as she pressed up to meet it. He looked down on her then, on the very faint moonlight that shone on her, and he slowed.

He slowed his pace greatly and lowered himself, her breathing fighting to catch up as he caressed her face. He loved her with such anguish, with such terrible yearning. Tonight he had thought all was naught, but from the way she looked back at him, from the recognition that passed between their gazes, he hoped with dire need that maybe, just maybe...she was starting to love him too.

He leaned forward and kissed her, their arms clinging to one another as they searched for something they hadn't realized had long since been given.

* * *

The evening light flickered through the trees as Liana shivered. She eased back, smiling broadly as she stretched under the moonlight. Ah, this feeling again. How cliche', and yet It she doubted it was something she would ever get used to.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. It was a peaceful night. So lovely, as if all was right in the world. Her senses settled and she exhaled. These creatures and their carnal passions, was this what all the fuss was about? But no, tonight was different. Tonight there was something more than passion in the air and as invigorating as it was, it simply would not do.

She was so proud of them. So proud and...disappointed.

She gripped the roots of the tree she laid under and dug her toes into the dirt, focusing her energy as vines began to slither from the ground.

"Oh Sarah...you're both getting so far ahead of yourselves..." she mumbled, leaning her head back and relaxing her body as she concentrated. She hadn't quite anticipated things to be progressing so far ahead of her schedule. It seemed Jareth's charm really was working, in more ways than one. How troublesome. Did they not realize there was a method to her madness?

She peered down at the grass, watching as her sinuous entrails slithered and slinked around her. No doubt she was acting quite rashly...perhaps she should be more mindful. Perhaps, come retrospect, she would find her actions to be unnecessary. She was aware of this and yet...it was a risk she could not afford to take. There was something...so much more substantial than passion in the air.

She imagined Jareth would be quite cross with her come the morrow, as she had seemed to promise him peace. However words could be fickle, and it was his fault the situation had become so critical. Even he would understand.

She sank lower as the vines radiated outward, prowling through the grass and into the surrounding forest. It was not her desire to act so soon, but they'd really given her no choice. She could feel Sarah was near, near something she should still be far away from. She could not allow it. She needed her to back away. They were not ready yet. He was not ready.

Yes...Jareth was sure to be quite cross with her, but it was for the greater good. She would do what must be done. She only hoped that Sarah would one day understand...and forgive her.

* * *

(~~~)

There were lights flashing. In and out. Red. Blue. White. They faded. Became brighter. Brighter. Blinding. Sarah opened her eyes, a terrible pain pulsing through her head. She sat up, looked around, and then her vision became clear.

It was dark out, the night air cold and damp against her skin. She furrowed her brow and brought a hand to the side of her head, wincing as she staggered to her feet.

_Wha? Where...where am I?_

She looked around, wobbling on stiff legs and shivered from the cold.

_I'm...outside? ...at the school?_

The sponge of the track made a crinkling sound beneath her feet and she staggered back a bit, trying to remember how'd she gotten there.

_What...what time is it? What was I...doing?_

She looked down, over herself, and saw she was dressed in her work out clothes, a pair of cleats firmly strapped to her feet. Practice...she must have been practicing. But why was she sleeping?

"Huh...I must have...taken a break and...fallen asleep...?" she wondered as she struggled for bearings. She went to the school often for late night runs. The track had automatic lights and it was peaceful to have the entire place to herself. She didn't remember coming here though...actually...she couldn't remember anything at all.

"Did...I fall?" she asked herself, wondering if she'd somehow fallen and hit her head. It would explain the headache...

She looked up, realizing just how dead the night air was. It was silent and pitch black. How long had she been sleeping? What time was it? She looked to her wrist, but it seemed she had forgotten her watch. Great. Slowly she made her way to the gate. Her bag and a bottle of water were there and so she figured she must have come after all. She gathered them and left for the locker room.

She was taking a chance, but wasn't exactly surprised to find the door locked. So...as she suspected, it must be pretty late out. She stood for a moment and scratched the back of her head. Everything was still cloudy, her eyes warm and heavy. She wondered if she had a concussion, but could find no bump to prove it.

"What the hell was I doing?" she asked.

A breeze grazed her arms and she shivered again. It was abnormally cold tonight and it didn't help that she was in nothing more than shorts and a T-shirt. She searched her bag for a jacket, but to no avail.

She continued to dig through it as she walked towards the parking lot. Her car was still in the shop, but if she'd come here that meant her dad would be picking her up anyway. Finally, she found her watch and pulled it out, then frowned intensely when she saw the time.

"Twelve forty-five? Are you kidding me?!" she asked, her brain gaining clarity with her burst of outrage. She couldn't believe it. She must have been out for hours. What the hell? She began to look around but the parking lot was empty. Her father...hadn't he come to pick her up?

She grew discouraged and turned back towards the school. _If only I had a phone_, she thought. The building was locked, but outside were a couple pay phones. She tried searching her bag for change then. _Come on...there's got to be a quarter in here somewhere..._

She looked up when a sudden flash of light appeared. It was far off, blocked by a line of trees down the road. A car? It drove closer, its headlights growing brighter, and for some reason hope filled her heart. She took a few steps forward. Could that be Dad?

She jogged a little to the edge of the road, eager. This darkness was creeping her out and at this point, she didn't care if she had to hitch-hike back to her house.

The beams of light coming towards her grew brighter still and now the low sound of an engine made its way to her ears. She began to smile and waved, hoping to draw the driver's attention. The headlights flashed and she could just make out the silhouette of the driver when something suddenly leapt out into the road.

Sarah's eyes widened and she shrieked as a loud crash shattered through the sound barrier. The vehicle hit hard, its front end imploding as it wrapped around the darkened figure. She heard terrible screams, the sound of glass breaking, metal snapping. She jumped back as the car fishtailed outward and spun into a roll. The sound of breaks slamming grated against her ears and the lights that once shown for hope now flared and burst into terrible sparks. She felt her heart pound, panic rendering her immobile.

What- what just happened? She stood gaping as smoke filled the air, the night flashing red as the vehicles taillights shone against the fog.

Suddenly, she found herself running towards it.

"Hey?! Hey are you okay?!" She called out, sprinting towards the accident as quickly as she could. The animal, a dog? A bear? Whatever it was, it was gone now. She slowed to a halt as she approached the vehicle, contorted and shredded as if it'd been hit by a train. She was in shock. That beast...it was huge.

She approached it warily, ducking down to try to see who was inside. Steam whistled from the engine, some mystery fluid seeping onto the road.

"Hey- hey can you hear me in there?"

She was scared. The windshield was shattered, the entire front end compacted. It was dark inside. She couldn't see anything. However she did notice something. The car was blue. A blue SUV. Her father...drove one just like it.

She stood there motionless as the terror set in, her eyes going wide and a terrible pain taking root deep in her chest. Her chest heaved and she sprung forward, leaning in through the broken window and searching the car desperately.

"Dad?!" she screamed, but there was no one there. No passengers at all. She opened the door and climbed inside, checking the backseat and began digging through the glovebox. _Papers, papers, tissues, receipts, come on, come on already!_

She stilled then and a pool of dread filled her stomach. Her hands constricted, her heart pounded and her breathing escalated further. The registration...

"No...nononono. Daddy?!"

She whipped her head around and jumped out of the car. The windshield was shattered...she hadn't seen anything. Damn it, she hadn't seen anything! Where did he go? What happened? She began to search all around, stumbling into the ditch and scrounging through the trees.

"No. Please no. Dear God please..." But nothing happened. Try as she may, the surrounding trees were empty. If her father had been thrown from the car...he should have landed over here...

Damn it. Sarah shook her head viciously then as tears came to her eyes. She was panicking. She couldn't afford to panic right now, her father's life could depend on it.

"What the fuck even was that?!" she shrieked, grimacing and panting as she tried to get ahold of herself. It had jumped out so suddenly. It had all happened so fast. It was big. Like a monster. Like something she'd never seen before.

She yelped when something touched her and jumped back as it slithered by. What? A snake? No. No it was a vine. What the fuck?

She jumped again when another curled around her ankle and she shook it off frantically.

"W-what?" She looked ahead, following after them. They were slithering away, into the forest. She heard something then, a creaking, crumbling sound. As if the ground was being disturbed. Her brow drew tight and she stepped closer to it.

It was dark but she could definitely see something up ahead. It was a mound...a mound of roots? She approached it and then something...terrible caught her eye. She saw a hand. A fucking hand.

The vines moved around it, pulling whatever it was connected to into the ground. She leaned forward with trepidation. Connected to that hand would be an arm...and to that...

"Dad?!"

Sarah fell to the ground and started ripping at the vines. She could see his face, buried deep underneath. She clawed and clawed but the more vines she tore, the more that came forth.

"No. No. No. Come on!"

She gave up on the vines and reached for his hand. It was cold and limp but she ignored it, using all her might to pull him out. Her father was a big man as it was and even she knew she had no chance of pulling dead weight out from the ground, but pull she did. The vines began to work harder, pulling against her. Tears ran down her face and she could feel her grip slipping. She couldn't -she couldn't focus. What was this? What was happening?

Tears blurred her vision and she gasped, falling back when his hand suddenly slipped from her grasp. She tumbled to the ground and crawled over as fast as she could. His hand was sinking beneath the mound and she did her best to dig it out again.

"No...Daddy please! Someone...Someone help me!"

She tore at the ground after the image of her father left her and the vines gradually dissipated. Finally she forced her way through, but found nothing but hard ground. She didn't understand. Where did he go? What the hell was going on?!

She gave a startled yelp when she heard a howl, something dastardly prowling the woods. Was it the monster that hit the car? Wh-what was that growl?

She stumbled back onto the road and brought both hands to her head, turning about in circles to try to think. A phone. She needed to get to a phone. But the school was locked and she didn't have any change. God damn it!

The car. There had to be change in the car. She turned around and went to make a mad dash back to the car when a sudden pain crippled her. She fell to her knees and gripped her head, the terrible pain from earlier returning. She closed her eyes and huddled into a ball. Flashes. So many bright flashes. Red. Blue. White. _What is this? What the fuck is happening?!_

She heard a sound then and looked up. Sirens. It sounded like sirens. An ambulance? Help? Help!

She jumped to her feet and looked all around, trying to orient where the sound was coming from and nearly fell back into the ditch when a car suddenly flew by her. Her eyes widened and she stared after it. A cop car? Why didn't they stop!

"Hey! Where the fuck are you going?!" she screamed, but the car kept on going. She panicked again and chased after it. _Why didn't they stop? I don't understand. Why didn't they stop?!_

She followed the road until she realized how pointless it was. She staggered to a halt and stared. The accident behind her was now so far away, and yet when she looked back she could see all its details clearly. She didn't understand. It didn't seem real, like it was stage lit just for her.

She turned back around at the sight of more flashes coming from her peripheral. Red. Blue. They were faint, just up ahead it seemed. Not knowing what else to do, she started running again. The flash of the lights became brighter, flickering through trees and cutting through the darkness. She left the road and entered the wood. It wasn't dense, not even a real forest, but the utter darkness made it difficult to navigate, constantly tripping over roots and rocks.

Gradually she began to hear things. The sound of chatter, of hustling. There were people up ahead. Finally! She pressed onward with new determination, but then slowed when another sound piqued above the rest.

It was a crackle. A rumble. Like fire. Like something was burning.

She began to run, catching herself after every fumble through the forest. She pushed through branches, forced her way through bushes and thorns, ignoring the cuts and bruises she gained along the way.

The red light before her grew brighter but it was not the sirens. She could see smoke rising above the canopy, hear the roar of flames as they burgeoned. She burst through the forest and stumbled into the open, her eyes gaping wide and her heart falling to the pit of her stomach at what she saw.

"W-what?"

She took a step forward, her mouth agape and her mind in sheer disbelief. Men in uniforms scurried around her, an array of fire trucks and police vehicles obscuring her entry. She heard the shatter of a window breaking and found the will to move. Her house. Her house was on fire.

She ran into the fray but had to stop from the radius of heat. Her chest heaved with panic and she began to search all around.

"Karen?! Toby?! Where are you?!"

She saw the door was open and had no hesitation in dashing inside, but felt herself jerking back when a hand then clamped around her arm.

"What are you doing? You can't go in there-" a hoarse voice yelled. Sarah turned around and tore her arm from the fireman's hold.

"My family is in there!" she screamed. She turned away but the man reached out again, this time yanking her back with more force. "Let go of me! Don't you fucking touch me!" She heard a scream then, a terrible shriek. She froze and turned, staring up at the window as if all hope was lost. "T-TOBY!"

With a strength Sarah did not know she had, she flailed against the masked man with all of her might, stumbling away and dashing towards the house without a single idea of what she would do. She could hear Toby screaming. She could hear him calling out in pain. Why was nobody helping him? What was going on?

She heard hollering in the background but didn't care. The heat was blistering but still she persisted towards the door. She was almost there. She could save him.

She reached out towards the door and it felt as it time itself slowed as a burst of flame slammed it shut in front of her. She wavered, for just a moment, and then gasped as she felt the wind being knocked clear out of her. A number of hands clawed around her and she screamed as they pulled her back from the door.

"Stop! What are you doing?! We have to go inside, my brother is still in there!" she screamed, raggedly, fighting tooth and nail against the men who carried her away. She didn't understand. There were firemen here, trucks, an ambulance, and yet she saw no hoses, saw no water spraying or effort of any kind. All she could see was her home crumbling before her and the rough hands of strangers that dragged her away.

"You need to calm down. You'll get yourself killed if you keep acting like this," she heard one of them say. She closed her eyes and started thrashing.

"What the fuck does it matter?! What the fuck is happening? How did this happen?!" she cried. Her feet dug into the dirt as she fought against her escort, but it was a failing effort. They were so strong. It was like they weren't even trying at all.

"We think it started in the kitchen. A grease fire," another one said, and Sarah shot open her eyes. He'd said that so casually. It didn't...It didn't make any sense.

"My father was in an accident down the road. You have to help me find him," she said, still doing her best to pull away from them. This didn't make any sense. Her house...her house was ten minutes away by car. Why was she sleeping out on the track? What was that monster that ran in front of the car?

"Stop squirming. You're making things difficult."

"Difficult? What the fuck are you saying, difficult?! Let go of me this instant!" she demanded, trying now to attack them rather than escape. The men stopped and turned to get a better hold of her.

"What a neurotic little whelp she is. Keep behaving like a wild animal and you'll be punished," they said. Sarah froze, shock rendering her limp. What...what did they just say? She turned towards them with pure terror on her face, but when she looked up she saw nothing, their faces blackened out. Her eyes widened and she trembled with fright. These...these men were not human.

"Let go! Let go!" she screamed, clawing away as if her life depended on it. Thank the Lord she managed to spring free. Stumbling forward, she made a mad dash away from them. Another flare of pain hit her and she tripped, wincing with determination as she struggled to escape. The lights of the sirens kept growing brighter. Red. Blue. Red. She couldn't take it. She couldn't-

She felt completely weightless as yet another hand reached out and pulled her back.

She hit the wall with a thud, her head smacking hard against the stone bricks. Wait- wall? What the fuck? She blinked furiously as her eyes tried to adjust and she scrambled across a damp stone floor. She tried, but she just couldn't make it to her feet. She heard the clanking of chains and she realized they were cuffed around her.

"You just never learn, do you?" a voice asked. Sarah peered up and shuffled back. She hit the wall again, forgetting it was there and tried looking around for an escape. She was in a room. It was dark, dank. There was a man in front of her. A man she-she didn't recognize.

"Who-who are you? Where am I?" she asked, trying to stagger to her feet, but the length of her chains prevented it. The man hunkered down and pulled on one of her ankles, dragging her closer to him. The scraping sound of her movements echoed loudly in the room, almost as loudly as the sound of her pulse beating wildly with panic.

"Always demanding things. Your manners are truly the worst."

"M-my manners?" Sarah asked, bemused. Who was this person? Where the fuck was she?!

"I've told you to cease this fussing how many times now? And still you haven't learned. I suppose I can no longer afford to spare the whip."

She felt herself dragging against the floor, unwittingly being pulled onto her back. She kicked away from the man's grasp and tried to crawl away, but now he reached out for both ankles.

"Let go of me! Don't fucking touch me!" she screeched. Tears of horror were swelling in her eyes, but she had not the ability to think. She had cuffs around her wrists and ankles, but how the fuck did they get there?!

"Ah, I see you're swearing again as well. Really now, tisk tisk."

She gasped when he suddenly pulled her forward and clamped a hand around her shoulder to slam her down onto her back. He loomed over her, his smile wicked as he mocked her.

"W-why are you doing this?" she asked, pleaded. The man leaned forward and narrowed his eyes, a sharpness of malice turning them livid.

"I told you it would come to this...what happens next is entirely your fault."

His laugh was sinister as he pulled away and she used the opportunity to get out from under him. He grabbed her wrists as she shuffled, undoing her cuffs with just a touch and then the same with her ankles. He was toying with her. He was delighting in it.

She huddled into a corner and waited.

"What are you talking about? I haven't done anything," she said. The man crawled towards her, his smile curling as he regarded her.

"No. It's never your fault. Sarah, Sarah, always in the right," he said and she furrowed her brow intensely, jerking away when he reached out for her.

"How do you know my name?" she asked, knowing there was nothing she could do as he placed both hands on the wall on either side of her, caging her in.

"Really? Sarah, I'm hurt. Do you think that simply ignoring your problems will make them go away?" he asked. Sarah stared at him, gaped blatantly. His eyes. They were blue. She knew them.

"J-Jareth?"

His smile widened menacingly and he leaned in even closer.

"It's Your Majesty to you."

She gasped when his hand was suddenly at her throat, gripping her tightly and yanked her from the wall. She struggled for breath and thrashed as he slammed her back to the floor. Her hands darted up, yanking at his arm but it was little use. Her feet scraped against the floor, trying their best to push her body away from him. Jareth started to sneer and laughed maliciously.

"So tenacious. You know how much I hate that."

He pressed down on her chin with his thumb and leaned forward to bite on her lip. She squealed in pain, clenching her eyes tight and fighting against him even harder. He released his bite and plunged his tongue in her mouth, holding her to the floor effortlessly as he did so. She was able to tear her mouth away, but not without the taste of blood that steadily oozed from her lip.

"Jareth -what -what are you doing?" she asked. She didn't understand. Why was he doing this? Why was he so angry? Why was there such evil in his eyes? She turned away, looking for hope, but found nothing but chains. "Why are you doing this?" she asked, and he rose his hand to grip her jaw, turning her face back towards him sharply.

"Because it's more fun this way," he answered and reached down between her legs.

A surge of uproar rose in Sarah's chest and she bucked against him frantically. What was he doing? Why was he acting like this? What was going on!

"Stop it- Damn it Jareth STOP!"

Flail all she may, it did little to improve her situation. Jareth's hand at her throat was unrelenting, leaving his other free to yank down her shorts. She struggled with all she had but her movements only helped him. She began to panic even further, the strange haze about her head intensifying. This wasn't real. This couldn't be real. This wasn't happening.

She stopped struggling completely at the feeling of a firm backhand hitting her hard across the face.

She became petrified, her screams falling silent as she looked up to him. _He-he hit me? He...hit me?_ She stared at him, stupefied. Her cheek began to throb, a pressure quickly building in her jaw. He cracked a smirk at her and leaned in, his grin smug as it stretched.

"What? Lose all that fight already? Come now, it's more satisfying when you struggle."

He reached down and grasped her hips, turning them sharply and sending her flopping onto her stomach. She tried to crawl away but he had her exactly where he wanted her. He leaned over her and pressed a forearm across her neck, shoving her hard into the floor and keeping her there as he finished pulling down her shorts. Sarah bit her lip and let out a cry, not knowing what else to do. She could feel his weight pressing down on her. She couldn't-

"Jareth stop! Please! Please! Why are you doing this? Please just stop..." her words turned to sobs as she realized the inevitable. She closed her eyes and pressed her face into the dirt, resigning to her fate. It was like all of her worst nightmares were coming true, but she couldn't -she couldn't wake up. "Wake up. Please just wake up!"

She sobbed as he entered her, braced herself as he moaned. This was really happening...she could feel it happening. She couldn't stop it. She was powerless. She begged him, begged him pitifully to stop but he only went harder. His hands fisted in her hair and she could feel the stone tile cutting into her hips as he thrust into her.

This wasn't supposed to happen. She couldn't believe...this wasn't real.

(~~~)

* * *

Sarah awoke to the pain of her heart beating furiously against her chest. She gasped, her chest heaving and her body wracked in a cold sweat. She felt movement, saw an arm wrapped tightly around her and tried to jump from the bed. The arm constricted, holding her pressed against a familiar torso. She could feel his breath on the back of her neck and nearly convulsed with disgust.

"Mm...don't go..." she heard Jareth's tired voice mumble. Sarah gasped and started thrashing.

"L-L-Let go of me," she demanded, her eyes shooting wide as she grabbed his arm, threw it back and then lurched from the bed. She stumbled forward, almost falling to the floor and backed away in a panic.

Jareth started to lean up, sleep still laden on his brow. He scowled as he forced his eyes open, running a hand through his hair as he tried to assess what was going on.

"Huh? What's wrong?" he asked. His eyes gained clarity and peered over to her. She was standing away from the bed, her posture stiff and agitated, her eyes wide, wider than he'd ever seen them. He grew more attentive and sat up a little straighter.

Sarah paced, wobbling from foot to foot as she tried to regain her equilibrium. What-what the fuck? She looked all around. She was in the cabin. The cabin with Jareth. The wedding? That's right. It'd been the night of their wedding. But what was- _It was a dream? It was a dream?! It was a dream,_ she told her self over and over but the words just wouldn't stick. She felt such unbelievable terror, a pain the likes of which she'd never felt before. What-what was happening? What was this? That...that was no dream. She could feel it. She could feel him. The fear...the pain...it was real.

She was too disoriented to think clearly and continued to jitter in her spot.

"Sarah. What happened?"

She heard Jareth's voice yet again but it only made her chest heave harder. She couldn't get herself under control. She looked at him, looked him straight in the eye, and felt her breath catch in her throat. She couldn't breathe. She couldn't-

Jareth's expression became alarmed when he saw her start hyperventilating and he quickly moved from the bed.

"NO!" Sarah shouted and he halted in place. "S-s-stay away from me!" she added, raising a hand between them in a defensive plea. Jareth paused, deep worry marring his brow. What the fuck? What was going on? She looked crazed, mania expanding her gaze wide. She turned away and brought a hand to her chest, trying so desperately to calm down. It was no use. It felt like she was burning alive. This anxiety it was...unbearable.

"Sarah. What is wrong?" He spoke sternly this time, staring at her intently. Sarah paused and looked up to him. Their gazes locked and it was as if...as if a torrent had been let loose. She opened her mouth, furrowed her brow on him in disbelief and suddenly all her fear was gone, replaced with firm ire.

"What's wrong? What's wrong? What the fuck do you think? This is wrong!" She started screaming at him, throwing her hands up in the air and pacing about frantically. Jareth stared at her, confounded and unprepared. She started shaking her head and glared back at him viciously. "What the fuck is all this? What are we even doing Jareth? A wedding? This was supposed to be my wedding? This is wrong. This is all wrong."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Jareth asked, not sure how he was supposed to handle her. This outburst, he didn't understand. She hadn't acted like this since...

Sarah smiled incredulously and started shaking her head.

"Last night. Fuck the last week! What have I been doing? Last night. Last night. Last night should have been the most wonderful night of my life. It should have been the most terrible. What-what are you doing to me? Did I forget the fact that you KIDNAPPED me?!"

Jareth's eyes narrowed on her. He recognized this fury, but he couldn't...he didn't have time to think about that right now.

"Sarah...you walked yourself down that aisle of your own accord..." he said, trying to find a way he might calm her down. He stood from the bed but she only backed away further.

"Yes. Yes I did. And how fucked is that? Again I let you steal from me something that should have been so special, a memory I will never get to have. My family should have been there. My dad should have given me away. Hell, my mother might have even shown up. But no, they'll never even know this happened and I would never want them to. I didn't want them to have any part of this. That isn't how it's supposed to be. What am I doing here? This is all wrong. All wrong."

"Sarah- you need to calm down," Jareth said, taking a step towards her and raising his hands in an attempt to appease her. Her face was turning red. Whatever catatonic meltdown she was having, her body was failing in trying to contain it. She stopped her grimacing and turned to him with a glare.

"Calm down? Why? Tell me why Jareth?" she asked, and her eyes filled with disdain. "Why do you always win? You told me what would happen on our wedding night. You were spot fucking on. How did you know? Did you trick me? Put me under a Goddamn spell?!"

"Sarah- I have no idea what you-"

"Did you think I would forget?!" she shouted, screamed actually. She was so angry, she didn't know how to express it. She reached up and dug her hands into her hair. She felt like she was about to snap. "Did you think it wouldn't matter? I suppose it doesn't because I still gave you everything in the end. You KIDNAPPED ME. MOLESTED ME. ABUSED ME. You threatened to murder my family. I don't care if it was hollow, the fear you instilled holds the same consequence. You took me away from them, from everything I knew. Forever. You took away my future, Jareth. So what am I even doing? What are we doing? What the fuck have I been doing?" She started shaking her head viciously and Jareth feared she may harm herself. He stepped towards her, though this time she did not realize it. "All this time it's like I've been living in a bubble, in one of your stupid dream crystals. Well now I'm finally awake, now I realize just how fucked up this all is. It's all bullshit! To think I could have a future with you...to think I could actually be happy here, how pathetic am I? How could I give up so easily? I'm an idiot. I'm a total fucking moron to have deluded myself. You're no prince. You're a Goddamn monster. A monster who would rape me till his heart's content, right?"

"Sarah, I would never-" he interjected, shaking his own head as he tried to formulate a plan. She gave him no time however, instead she glared up to him and smote him on the spot.

"Is that not what you said? Is that not what you said the night I arrived? You said you would chain me in the dungeons and rape me day n' night if I didn't comply. You threatened to molest me if I didn't agree to marry you. Fuck, you molested me anyway! Every time you back me into a corner and yet here I was thinking that I could actually forgive you?! That somehow it could all be okay?! How?! But it can't. It can never be. You're my captor. I can't allow myself to forget that."

"Sarah- where is this coming from? After everything...I thought-" His will to fight was fading fast, unable to keep up with Sarah's fervor. His hand lowered and he just stared at her.

"You thought what? That you could brainwash me into some Stockholm state of complacency? Tell me Jareth, what would you have done if I had ruined your little ceremony? What would you have done if I hadn't married you?" she asked and he scowled intensely.

"I...did not think that a possibility," he said and she glared harder.

"Why? Because it's your way or no way?"

"No...because after everything we've been through I thought-"

"You mean everything you've put me through?"

Jareth paused, taking the time to compose himself before responding. He didn't understand, not in the slightest. Last night had been difficult. He knew the things that weighed on her mind, but he never thought they had been brooding to such an extent. What had triggered her? Were these her words at all? Liana. He wanted to blame Liana. Had she followed through on her threats? Was this her move? But how? He wanted to blame her but it just wasn't possible...

"Sarah...I know the things I've done have hurt you," he said and looked to the floor. "I know I should have found another way and I am sorry. But...the past is the past. All we can do is work towards the future." He wasn't sure what to say. After what happened between them last night he'd thought...he'd thought she felt differently. Was she resenting it that much? Did she truly hate him so?

"The future? Are you kidding me?" Sarah asked and turned away. "After a past like that we have no future. We have a Goddamn phantasm. This isn't some stupid fairytale where all's well that ends well. The ends do not justify the means," she said and Jareth just shook his head.

"What would you have me do?" he asked.

"What would I have you do? It doesn't matter what I want because in the end you will do what you always do, exactly what _you_ want. As long as you are happy everything will be lovely, I've come to recognize that. But the moment I say no, the moment I fuck up, what happens then? What happens when we realize you haven't changed at all?"

"Sarah...I have done so much-" He was looking down now, frustration finally getting the better of him. He was not in the right frame of mind to be attacked like this. His hands...fisted at his sides.

"So much? What, to make things better? Look at us. Look at me. Are things better Jareth? Why do you even bother?" she asked and his head darted up.

"Because it's worth it," he said impulsively. He was angered now and it shown in his gaze. Sarah's expression became more offended.

"_Worth it?_ You think this torment is worth it? Why? Why do you think this is worth it? What good has any of this brought us? You could have had anyone. You could have had a harem. You could have had a smart, charming, willing, submissive girl who would grovel for the chance to suck your dick. But no, you picked me. You put me through such hell, and why? For what reason? What to you makes this worth it? I don't understand. I don't understand why you would want this, why you would do so much just to have _me_."

"Sarah..."

"No! No more flippant excuses. I want to know, Jareth. Right now. Of all the people out there, why would you choose me? Why would you go to such lengths to do this? I don't get it. Nobody gets it!" she exclaimed, throwing her hands up in the air in a grand gesture. Jareth winced then, unable to mask the hurt such words brought him. He stared at the floor, resenting the feeling of his heart sinking lower and lower.

"You mean...you really don't know?" he asked, his tone jaded. He cracked a nasty grin and shook his head. He was beside himself. Was this...really happening right now? "I thought...after last night..." he mumbled, pushing past his anger to wallow in even more disillusionment. After last night he'd thought...he'd honestly begun to think...

"Don't know? Of course I don't know!" Sarah interrupted, blowing through his contemplations and called back his attention. He looked flabbergasted in the worst way possible. "Tell me. You keep saying you want me, but why? Why did you choose me?"

Jareth looked up then and met her square in the eye.

"You really want to know?" he asked, ignoring her recoil as he approached her.

"Yes!" she said, standing her ground as he reached out and grasped one of the wrists she held out in defense. His look on her was grim, bitter but she held it. She stared into his eyes, searching them fiercely and expected adversity, and yet instead they were filled with warmth. Something lost and...sad. There was no malice. There was no evil. Her eyes widened then as she realized...the man before her now...he was not the one from her dream.

"Sarah...I chose you because" he started, and she saw his jaw clench. Her brow worried in anticipation, her posture tensing against his hold. He stared at her for a moment, pain straining his features, as if already knowing his next words would be regretted. He said them nonetheless, and he said them with confidence. "...I love you."

Sarah's expression fell along with her heart as it plummeted through the floor. Her mouth opened and her breathing trembled as she pulled away. She'd heard those words before and yet, and yet she was unable to fathom why she now felt such inexplicable fear.

"W-what?" she asked, backing away slowly. Jareth however gave her no reprieve and instead took another step forward to fill the gap.

"_I love you,_ Sarah. I've been in love with you since the day we met. Has it really taken you so long to see that?" he asked, prepared to lay his heart on his sleeve so long as she ripped it from him. Her look of horror only increased however and she started shaking her head from side to side.

"No...nonono. Take it back. Take it back right now," she demanded, unable to meet him in the eye as a new wave of panic swept over her. Jareth frowned, realizing he'd come too far to back down now.

"No. I will not take it back because that is the truth. I've tried to show you so many times, I did not think I needed to speak it. I'm in love with you Sarah. Look at me when I say it." He tried to reach for her but she swatted him away and jumped back, her head still shaking viciously.

"No. No you can't- You can't say that!" she said, a sob cracking through her voice. Jareth's brow furrowed and he turned to follow after her. "Take it back. Please. You don't understand. You need to take it back right now," she said, begging him desperately. She turned away from him but did nothing to stop him from reaching out and turning her back around. He grasped her by the shoulders, forcing her to face him and wondered why it seemed she would now faint at any moment.

"Why?" he asked, offended by her reaction. He'd been waiting so long to tell her. He was so angry it had come out like this. All his careful maneuvering...to be wasted like this. She kept her face turned sharply away from him, her lip quivering as she bit it and he could see she was doing all she could to fight back tears. Why?!

"Because I don't want it!" she said, flailing against him though getting nowhere, She closed her eyes and grimaced, shaking herself against his grip. "You expect me to believe that was the reason? That you did all of this out of love?!" she squealed and jerked free of one hand. "You're telling me that you kidnapped me, emotionally manipulated me, physically and sexually abused me all in the name of love?! No. No I can't accept that. If that's the way you plan to love me then I want nothing to do with it," she said, her voice failing as another sob escaped her. Jareth took hold of her again, though this time she ceased her struggling, her head falling low as she sagged into him. This was...this was too much.

Jareth stared at her, speechless. His grip on her loosened and she nearly collapsed into him. She started to cry, her hands fisting against his chest as she fought for the will to hit him. He wasn't -he wasn't prepared for this.

"Sarah...stop," he said, blinking in disconcertion as she weakly struck him. She shook her head again.

"No...not until you take it back. Please...please just take it back. If you don't...there'll be no hope left," she said and his frown became grim.

Sarah...didn't know what to do, what to feel. She'd been so angry just now, but the feeling was not her own. Those words were not hers. It felt as though someone had thrust them upon her, forced her to feel something she could not manage. However now, now the pain ripped straight from her heart. She didn't understand...what was happening to her.

She'd told herself she wanted Jareth's love, that winning it would create a fork in the road. She would fix him. Loving her would change him for the better. She thought...that was what was happening all this time. But...but if he claimed to love her from the very start, she couldn't...If that was what it meant to be loved by him...she didn't see where else they could go. The road became endless. It became a loop. She couldn't...she couldn't imagine withstanding something so broken.

"I will not take it back," he said and her last bit of hope was crushed. "The way I love you and the way I plan to love you are two separate things," he said and she pulled away to glare up at him.

"What? What does that mean? You hurt me Jareth. All those things...How could you do that to someone you love?" Her expression was pitiful and it pained him to have to endure it. His jaw clenched as he stared at her and suddenly his hold on her became an embrace. She fought against it, struggled so hard, but he only held onto her tighter. Exasperation was taking its toll, he could feel it in her stance and he lowered them to the floor, cradling her against her will.

"Because...I'm a monster, remember?" he asked, turning to press his face into her hair. He could feel her trembling in his arms. He could feel her trying not to cry and it wrenched his heart in two.

"But that isn't love. Doing those horrible things isn't how you love someone. It's just selfishness-"

"Then that is what it means to be loved by me, because my love for you _is_ selfish," he interjected, raising a hand to the back of her head as he held her. He closed his eyes, absolutely hating what this had become. "I told you, people do not choose what they feel. The way I love you is painful and unyielding. It may not be what you want, but you cannot say it isn't real. I'm sorry, but I cannot take it back." He kissed the side of her head, pretending not to feel her entire body tense. She had finally started to calm down and he used the moment to smell her. There was nothing. No pheromones, no magic. It was just like before. He had no idea what she was thinking. She was so distressed, he couldn't wrap his head around it. He just...wanted it to stop. And yet he wouldn't lie to her. He refused to lie about the way he felt.

He caressed the back of her head as he used his own magic to sooth her. He'd never had to resort to this before, but from the rapidity of her breathing he knew that whatever was happening she had not the ability to control. He prayed it was Liana. He prayed this was not how she truly felt.

He frowned then and hugged her tighter. She'd started crying again.

"I hate you...so much. You're despicable and terrible and deceitful...and it hurts the worst when you're kind. I can't...I don't want any of it. Not at all," she murmured, giving up on fighting and instead gripped the collar of his shirt tightly.

"I know," he said, taking her words for granted. Sarah started shaking his head. He just didn't get it.

"No, you don't. You...don't know anything at all."

She stared off into space as the fury in her quelled, though now a deep morose took its place. She felt tired all of the sudden, lightheaded even. She didn't understand what she was feeling. Last night...last night she was pretty sure she loved him. And now...

"I know what I have done," Jareth said and she brought back her attention. "I know...that you deserve something far better than what I have given you, and for that I am also sorry. You're right, I am selfish and I only do the things I want. You are the only person who has made me regret that. Only now...the thing I want most is to simply...make you happy."

She stared at him blatantly, skeptical of his words.

"Make me happy? You keep saying that...though it seems...we're only becoming more and more miserable." She looked away from him, her hands on his shirt tightening in frustration. She scowled then and closed her eyes. "Jareth I...I can't do this," she said and pushed herself away. He didn't stop her this time, sitting there motionless as she stood and left him. He heard her shuffle away and the sound of the bathroom door as it closed behind her and still he just...stared.

Minutes passed and he sat totally beside himself. What the fuck. That had all happened so quickly. One minute she was curling in his arms as they slept and now...now they were back to square one. He stood, contention weighing on him heavily. Sarah was right. Something was wrong. She shouldn't have done that. That outburst was unnatural. He looked around but couldn't figure it out. As long as she had her necklace Liana shouldn't have been able to get to her.

And then his eyes widened. Her necklace...shit. He recalled that she was not wearing it just now, she must have taken it off before going to sleep but that shouldn't have mattered. He turned around and scoured the room furiously, wondering where she'd put it. One night should have been fine, and if it was kept in close proximity it was the same as if wearing it. So why?

His brow furrowed when his eyes landed on the glint of a chain coiled atop the nightstand. He picked it up and inspected it...and then his stomach filled with dread.

This wasn't...this wasn't it. He set it down and sat on the edge of the bed, staring blankly as he realized the full gravity of his stupidity. He'd been so distracted, so arrogant, he hadn't even realized she wasn't wearing the fucking charm?! Gods! He noticed the chain hanging from her neck and hadn't given it a second thought. But in the moonlight everything had looked silver. It was fucking silver. Sarah's charm...was gold.

"Fuck-" he bit out, fisting the mattress on either side of him as he fought to remain composed. How stupid of him to think she would never wear another piece of jewelry. That must have been it, why Liana had been so calm and lenient last night. She was biding time. She could sense the barrier on Sarah weakening, she welcomed her into the forest. Fuck, why didn't he just bring her back to the castle?

He tried to think, if she removed it before bed, hadn't worn it at all the next day then...it'd been...somewhere around thirty-six hours...thirty-six hours with her out of its vicinity. He closed his eyes tightly then and sneered as he chided himself. Damn it. The barrier wouldn't break within such a time span, but it would have certainly been weakened. And that's when he remembered Liana's words. _I don't need your spell to be broken in order to bypass it...weakened will do just fine._

His eyes opened and he stood from the bed. That was it. She'd warned him. She'd _wished him luck_. She'd been playing him from the start, waiting for the most opportune moment to strike back at him! Damn it! How could he be so stupid? He'd stood up to her out of pride and that was exactly what she was counting on. Fuck. She was ruining everything!

He was broiling with murderous rage as he thought over everything that had happened. Sarah had been fine last night. She'd been herself. He'd stood guard all night after she'd gone to sleep but he...he'd become distracted. He'd let down his guard to be with her. It wasn't until this morning...until she'd woken up.

_You may rest easy this night, _Liana had said and like a fool he'd trusted her. But...she had not lied. It was no longer night. She had kept her word. How foolish, he of all people falling victim to such blatant word play. That was it then. Liana must have used her influence while they slept...while he was ignorant of her presence. But to what end? Why would she do this to Sarah? Was she really such trivial collateral?

He held his face in his hands as he grumbled with outrage. How was he supposed to fix this?

He peered up at the necklace on the table and immediately swapped it for her charm. There. That was a good place to start. Sarah was in the bathroom, but having it even this close to her should help her calm down. His eyes lingered, caught on a ray of light that shone upon it from the window. His eyes narrowed when that light flickered and he peered up further.

There was nothing there...nothing to disturb the light. And then his eyes narrowed...on a vine...slowly creeping into the room.

He stood and leaned out the window, then went completely rigid at what he saw. It was a sea. A sea of vines. He looked down and saw the entire face of the cabin had been covered in them. Their rate of growth was abnormally quick, and soon they were to engulf the entire house. Golden blossoms bloomed from them, shimmering in the morning light. He looked out, out as far as he could see, but the weighty vines wove and stretched like a blanket over the entire forest.

He drew back from the window, never to dare admit he had for one second felt afraid, and yet he most certainly had. He'd felt a moment of pure terror as he witnessed the scene. She had been waiting...waiting for the moment _she knew_ he would let his guard down. Damn it. This wouldn't have happened if he had remained focused, if he hadn't allowed himself to wander from the path of his ambitions. Last night...he'd cared more about salvaging their happiness than her safety. His emotions were distracting him, was that her message? Was that the purpose of this reality check?

He analyzed the vines and realized that while they were Liana they were extremities far removed. So, she was still not able to find Sarah, yet she was determined enough to spread her entrails across the entire wood until she did? Gods, she was persistent. She'd gotten close, closer than she could have realized. And her magic, it hung latent in the air, emanating from the roses themselves. She was being reckless, tossing about her magic in the blind hope it might somehow reach Sarah. But her efforts were not in vain. No, they were far too successful.

A deep rage flowed through him then as he stared out the window, so powerful it made his arms tremble as he gripped the window frame. He couldn't believe she would go so far...He couldn't believe it.

"That spiteful cunt..." he growled, closing his eyes and tilting his head as he focused on her demise. His hands gripped the window tighter and the wood cracked and splintered in his grasp. He took a deep breath, and then the vines started to burn. A fire spread, like roads on a map it traveled down the building. Every vine twitched and seemed to shriek in pain, but their cries only made him angrier. He scowled more intently, focusing his magic to the best of his ability and scorched the entire area. The fire spread low into the forest and then rose atop the canopy, a straight inferno that devastated anything in its path.

He breathed heavily through his nose, a great deal of his energy expended and opened his eyes only when the feeling of Liana's presence dissipated. Charred bits of vine and ash fell from the wall, and clouds of smoke rose from deep within the forest. There, she was sure to feel a sting from that. Yet, he took no satisfaction in this. That was just a warning. He was sure to get back at her for this. He was done playing games.

* * *

Sarah emerged from her bath to find Jareth standing at the window. His shoulders were hunched, his posture greatly agitated, and so she left him alone. She moved into the room, eyeing him carefully as she sat on the edge of the bed. His arms were raised, his forearm blocking her view of his face. She glanced down then and her brow drew at the trinket she saw atop the nightstand.

_My necklace?_ she thought, curiously picking it up. _But...I could have sworn I wore a different one..._ Hadn't she been wearing the one Mariella had picked out? She couldn't figure it out and stared at it in confusion. Maybe she'd picked up this one by mistake? And just didn't notice? Hm, she had no idea but felt no real need to press the issue. It'd been dark after all, maybe she really hadn't noticed.

She put it on and immediately felt an immense weight lift from her shoulders. She fondled the pendent against her chest and relaxed a bit at the feeling of comfort it brought her. She'd told herself it was better not to have worn it...but maybe a feeling of support was what she'd been needing all along.

She looked down and frowned, gripping the towel she held around herself tighter. Jareth was still standing there. She felt so awkward now. She'd managed to calm down quite a bit during her bath, managed to clear her head, and it had her wondering why...how things had escalated so quickly in the first place. It was only a dream. She peered up to Jareth, feeling guilty yet again. She'd said some pretty harsh things...but had she meant them?

"Jareth?" she asked, but he failed to respond. She frowned and looked down again. She'd really upset him hadn't she? Well...she had also been really upset. "I'm sorry," she said. Jareth moved then. He turned and glanced down at her.

"For what?" he asked, revealing the true depth of his anger from his tone alone. Sarah turned away and bit her lip.

"I...shouldn't have freaked out like that...There was no reason for it...The things I said...I'm sorry."

His eyes narrowed on her, suspicious, but she could only misinterpret the reason why.

"You have no reason to apologize," he said, and she looked up. His voice was agitated, but there was something somber about him. She wondered what it was he was looking at through the window.

"But..."

"You meant what you said, correct? And you have every right to."

She closed her mouth then. There was a tension in the air, something that, for some reason, seemed to have nothing to do with what happened between them. She grew concerned then. She didn't like it.

"No it's...I just...had a really bad nightmare and I guess...it just...sketched me out. I panicked and...I...I just panicked." She shrugged as she spoke, not knowing what to say. She remembered feeling so many things, she remembered losing her shit and watching it happen as if being a spectator above and yet...it didn't feel real. Not half as real as her dream. Like it was someone else entirely. Was she going insane?

"A nightmare, you say?" Jareth asked, finally turning away from the window and stepped towards her. She rose her eyes to meet his, unsure of the expression she should give him.

"...Yeah," she said, her brow furrowing deeply. His eyes on her were cold, closed off and she wondered...how hurt he must be...if he'd meant what he said after all.

"May I?" he asked, and it took her a moment to catch on. Her brow furrowed again and she nodded, lowering her eyes to the floor. He reached out and placed his hand on the crown of her head.

She waited, her eyes slyly peering up. She watched as his expression changed, as it tensed and furrowed. He looked focused, but she wasn't sure on what. He reached the end and then something else flickered across his face. The coldness in his eyes gave way and for a moment she could see pain in them. Now he knew...now they both knew.

He pulled away from her and lowered his gaze to the floor.

"Well...that is certainly cause to make anyone feel...unnerved," he said, the awkwardness between them growing.

"But it...it was just a dream. I...I shouldn't have freaked out. You didn't do anything..." she repeated, her feet fumbling nervously. Jareth scowled harder.

"Is that what you fear most? That I would do such terrible things to you? Do you really think I'm capable of that?" he asked. Sarah was quiet in response, turning away uncomfortably.

"You...threatened you would," she said and she could feel his eyes narrowing on her.

"I make a lot of threats," he asserted and she looked up to him. "With that said, I would never take my actions so far. And the damage I have done? Well...I've been trying to learn from such mistakes." He held her gaze as he said that, with strong emphasis. Sarah gaped. The pull of his gaze was so demanding, but she...she just didn't know.

"...Why?" she asked, not quite realizing she'd said it out loud. Jareth's brow furrowed and he looked almost offended as he responded,

"What?"

Sarah blinked and looked down, realizing she needed a point to her question. She knitted her fingers in her lap, uncertain of her next words.

"Why do you love me?" she asked and she could sense his brow rising. "If you love me now, I might understand. But...if you truly believe you've loved me all along then tell me why. For what reason?" She gave him a moment to answer, and thus looked up when he didn't. "Do you even know?"

She watched as a look of disconcertion strained his face and she frowned subtly. She wasn't sure what he was struggling with, but the fact that he was struggling to answer her at all she found...disappointing.

"I know...what I feel," he answered, tentatively. Sarah's frown became more obvious.

"But not why you feel it?" she asked and then glanced away. "...Huh, sounds like fate," she added, concerned over the even greater distance she could feel spreading between them. Jareth stared at her for a moment and then looked away.

"It very well might be," he said and she cracked a false smile in response.

"I see...how very unfortunate."

"For some..."

She peered up when he started walking away, her eyes following him to the door.

"Where are you going?" she asked. He paused and glanced back to her.

"We'll return to the castle once you've dressed...come down when you're ready," he said, and continued down the stairs.

Sarah sat in silence. The past twenty-four hours had felt like such a whirlwind, she couldn't quite believe things were now so calm. She looked down, wondering why it had ended up like this, why it always ended like this. She never used to lose her temper like that...it didn't make sense. She wasn't even angry to begin with. She just felt bad, now. Sorry for him. She could try to convince him she didn't mean it, but that would only make her look like a lunatic and besides...she wasn't completely sure it was _untrue _to begin with. It was uncalled for and yet...the damage was done. She didn't know how to fix this and, given everything she'd just said to him, was surprised by how much...she really wanted to.

Perhaps it was fate. Perhaps it was a moment of divine intervention giving her a sign. Every time she came close to taking a real step forward with him something like this happened. She'd come so close to giving herself to him last night when maybe...she just wasn't supposed to.

A voice in the back of her head reminded her that she did not believe in fate, that she made her own choices. Last night she had made a choice...And now she would have to choose again, whether or not that choice...was something worth fighting for.


	116. Chapter 22, A Torrent of Things

Chapter 22, A Torrent of Things

* * *

The sound of combustion rose in a steady rhythm as Jareth stormed the halls. A fury like no other coursed through him, manifest in the fire from the torches that lit upon his passing. The end of the hall drew near, the decrepit door that once unnerved him so. He approached it without heed, instead with fierce determination. There was a time when he would have paused before it, when he would have wavered, but not now. Not any longer. Now the door flew open by his command.

The echo of his fervent steps should have been a signal of alarm in those hallowed halls but he allotted the void no chance to impede. He was so angry, so uncontrollably angry. He took with him no torch and so the darkness swallowed him whole; but alas, he was not lost. Instead he pursued further, further into the depths. He ignored the path. He ignored the gimmicks, the illusion of shadow. No. He could not be misled so easily. Winding back his arm, he shot a sudden burst of fire into the darkness. It hit its mark blindly, alighting in a brilliant explosion as fire engulfed the altar whole. He slowed as sparks fell and looked all around.

"Where are you, you execrable cur?! Show yourself this instant!"

He took a few more steps and then stopped. He tried to listen for any signs of change, any echo or bellow as he glared from one side to the other, but all was quiet. He couldn't take it. She wouldn't dare ignore him.

"Liana! Damn it, you malignant sow! Answer me!"

His rage was seething, rendering him to a state that left him no capacity for calculation let alone caution. He didn't care what kind of impression he made, didn't care how angry it made her. Nothing, absolutely nothing compared to the depth of his outrage in that very moment. He turned around and staggered back, waiting as the flames upon the saucer gradually dwindled. He was about ready to shoot off another flare when-

"Well, isn't your vernacular quite off-color today."

Jareth whipped around to the pillar behind him, his grimace bearing fang as his eyes found Liana. She was leaning against it, her brow raised expectantly. He clenched his jaw and took a deep breath.

"What the fuck did you do?" he demanded. His eyes zeroed in on her, on her smug, repugnant face. She stared at him for a moment and then her brow rose a little higher.

"And a cheerful good afternoon to you, _My Liege,_" she said, leaning up off the altar and stepping away from it. It took all of Jareth's might to remain in place.

"Enough. Enough of your bullshit. Answer me now. What did you do?"

She scowled at him disapprovingly and then turned away as she started to pace. Jareth fought back a growl. She'd risen her nose to him. The audacity of such a gesture!

"I say, continue to speak to me so discourteously and I may become less than inclined to entertain this tantrum of yours any further," she said, a pompous upturn in her voice. Jareth's glare could not become any sharper. For his own sake, he forced himself to reign it in.

"Mock me one more time. I dare you." His voice had lowered, become slow and dangerous. She recognized it, enough to earn him back her gaze through her peripheral.

"Now you threaten me?" she asked. She caught Jareth's gaze, saw how serious it was, and turned to face him a little more. He could be quite a handful when he got like this; perhaps she shouldn't goad him so brazenly.

"I will not ask again," he responded. Liana paused, just briefly, and narrowed her eyes. Oh, so he was on a warpath, was that it?

"I will remind you that anger makes you foolish Jareth. You should be more careful, lest you unleash it upon the wrong foe," she warned, slowing to a halt as she turned to face him head on. Jareth's fists continued to tighten. It was all he could do to abate the urges threatening to undo him. Liana saw this and...simply couldn't help herself. "I say, before I answer, might I ask what it is you're talking about?" she added, her sarcasm fading. Now she spoke casually in an effort, he assumed, meant to assuage him. His mouth cracked in a nasty smirk and he shook his head in exasperation.

"Idiot..." he mumbled, his gaze falling to the floor as he began to chuckle. Liana's composed expression faltered for just a moment, her brow twitching in a frown before he was able to look back up again. "You think I'm an idiot, don't you?" he asked, his eyes rising to hers with such genuine animosity that she almost began to question her actions. "You think I'm some hot-blooded fool for you to play with, is that it? That I'm too weak to seek retribution-"

"Think?" she interrupted, choosing to play into his antagonization. "No, I don't think anything Jareth. I know. I know with absolute certainty."

"Insufferable wench! How dare you-"

"How dare I? How dare you!" Her voice bellowed with a deep resonance, quaking tremors coursing through the void. Jareth stumbled back but maintained his footing. At one time her displays might have frightened him, but not now. Certainly not now. "You come into this most sacred place with arms raised. You dare intrude upon my sanctity, threatening _me_, commanding_ me_? I could strike you down this very moment you ungrateful, impudent clod." She was starting to lecture him. Really now, there were plenty of other civil means to go about handling this...

"Then do it!" he yelled, and she found herself drawing back with surprise from it. His stare on her was so vehement, so impassioned. It was catching her off guard. "Strike at me. Tear. Me. Down. Do whatever you must. You've done it thus far." He continued to yell at her, louder and more menacing than she'd ever had the pleasure of hearing. Oh my, she must have pressed a whole bunch of buttons this time. He wasn't poised at all. No, if anything he was behaving quite recklessly. That wasn't like him. She hesitated, not sure what manner of response would be more beneficial to her. Reacting quickly, she took a step back and composed herself, smirking as she geared up for a retort.

"Be careful what you ask for, My King. You may receive exactly that."

"And I would accept it in abundance," Jareth said, bitingly. "Though such a fate would surely never be mine, for time and time again you instead choose to torment the mind of an innocent, of your own master!"

She had the gall to look even more surprised by his accusation but Jareth wasn't having any of it.

"Excuse me? What are you-"

"Oh, don't act so ignorant. You know exactly why I'm here. You know exactly what you've done."

Again Liana paused before responding, using the moment to try to cool the air between them. He was really riled up, wasn't he? Did he even know what he was doing? There was anger yes, but such fervor was really quite...unexpected.

"And it would seem so do you," she said, her tone a great deal calmer, abiding even. However Jareth registered it as something completely different, her look on him one of condescendence. He glared away and began to pace.

"Then tell me why? What is your excuse this time, your justification? Do you have any idea what you've done?" he asked, halting in place and closing his eyes in the effort to compose himself. He was getting out of hand and he knew it. His anger was overwhelming. The look in Liana's eye- if he could see past the red he would have realized it was cautious.

"What I've done? Dear boy, I have not done a thing."

"Really?" he asked, turning his head sharply back to her. "So the miles upon miles of your entrails I destroyed were simply passing through? The magic seeping into her soul was that of some other mystical entity? What else I wonder could have brought about such a tremendous night terror?" he asked with an acerbic sting. His expression was incredulous and exasperated and it saw through her plainly. She regarded him carefully.

"A night terror you say? Is that all?" she asked and angled herself away. He could feel his enmity rekindle at the air of dismissiveness about her demeanor. "Is that why you felt the need to so rudely scorch half my forest? I thought I felt something...an itch maybe. That was you?" she asked, teasingly almost, glancing back with a pointed finger. Jareth felt his teeth grind. He didn't know what she was playing at but he'd had enough of her derision.

"Damn it woman. What do you want? Last night you promised me peace-"

"And my word was not broken," she asserted, her look on him more serious than before. "I gave you one night. It was up to you to secure the rest, and it was you who did not heed the morning," she explained. Jareth's expression widened with outrage.

"You would weasel your way with semantics? It is true, I should have known better. I am indeed a fool for thinking you were above such blatant deception on what was truly an auspicious night. But even more, I am a fool for thinking you might allow her one night without torment-"

"From the mouth of an incubus no less! Ha! Such hypocrisy!" Her laughter silenced him as she spun around to face him, the skirt of her gown twirling about her playfully. It seemed like everything, every look, every gesture, even the movement of her clothing was trying its utmost best to piss him off. "So quick to cast blame when all I did was draw her attention to that which was already there, to things she was starting to forget," she said, glancing down and raising a hand to her forehead in a feigned gesture of disappointment. "I gave you so many chances, so many warnings. Really now, you let her stay in the forest! She would have, at the very least, stood a better chance in the castle. How asinine can you be?" She laughed again and shook her head. "I told you I would strike back. I told you I would find the weakness in your charm. I did not even have to lift a finger. Your phantasm fell apart all on its own." Her giggles faded to an echo resounding in space. It was a grating sound. Perfectly calculated.

Jareth was quiet for a moment, contemplation weighing heavily on his shoulders. He didn't want to believe she was so spiteful, so petulant. No better than him. Perhaps he really was a fool, deluding himself with such follies as _harmony_ and _joy_. Look what it had earned him. But a phantasm? No. His joy with Sarah was no phantasm.

"So that was it? You did this to get back at me?" he asked, forcing his scowl up from the floor and directing it at her. There was disgust in his voice, laden. "_That_ was your motivation? Is that all this is? Moves and countermoves?!" Liana's expression turned defensive then.

"You sound less than satisfied, when I am merely playing the board you set," she stated. "Or have you forgotten how this all started?"

"Damn it, this is not a game!" he shouted, and again Liana could not hide her split-second look of surprise. "You hurt her. Again! I looked into her dream. You made her feel every part of it like it was more real than the world she awoke to. Do you truly not have any idea of the damage you've caused?" He was reaching wit's end. He didn't know what his own objective even was. How did he foresee this encounter ending? Did it even matter? He was just so angry and only becoming increasingly so. Liana's eyes narrowed. She was starting to feel a little offended.

"Perhaps you should be asking yourself that question. It would appear such gimmicks are not much fun when the shoe is on the other foot, are they?" she asked, though his expression only became more abhorrent.

"Do you think I don't know?" he countered, glancing away and scowling intently. "I am fully aware of what I put her through-"

"And yet you do it anyway! And still you have the sciolism to scorn me with words you've taken from my very mouth," she lectured, her own voice rising. He was acting like a spoiled child. As if he had any real comprehension of the gravity of her actions. How necessary it had been. Everything was always about him. He couldn't see the bigger picture even if he wanted to. The emotions she'd felt last night -what might have happened if she hadn't interfered. If he only knew how close he'd come...

It angered her to be attacked like this, to be blamed when she was already well aware of the repercussions of such an impulsive decision. It would be too easy to defend herself, to correct him and proclaim that she had no predisposition, that her actions were not planned and she was not the wicked witch he thought her to be. It was his fault. He was getting in the way. Him and that stupid charm. If he would just stop trying to thwart imaginary adversaries, they might find themselves under completely different circumstances. What she'd done was for the greater good. He was such a fool.

All these things she could not say. All these things and more. But now was not the time for pride. For now she would have to endure his slander. His eyes on her were full of such hatred, a gaze of utter condemnation. He would never believe that she had actually been hurt by it.

"Yes. _I do it anyway_, and I will continue to do so because I love her. Because I am trying my very best _to love_ her."

"Please, do not start," she interjected, waving him off and glaring away. "Do not think that regarding yourself as the lesser of two evils makes you valiant, and do not dare blame this all on the great affliction that is _love_. We both know your true aim. You want me. It's only been recently that you want her. You think that you can have both, or perhaps you are deluding yourself into thinking they are one in the same, but I assure you they are not. Your love, it is a pretense, a convenience and nothing more."

"Convenient? Nothing about my feelings for her is convenient. Was it not you who encouraged me to embrace them?"

"Yes, and rather than rectify you would instead justify your deplorable actions with it. Did you not hear even just one sentence of her acrimony?" She looked back to him with a flare of anger, her arms now crossed tightly over her chest. What a pitiful creature he was. Should she tell him the truth? Just to spite him? Oh, the joy that would bring her at this very moment._ How much anger could one person embody?_ she wondered.

To her own defense, it was not Liana's plan to sabotage last night's affairs. He was right, Sarah did deserve at least one milestone in life that could be recalled upon with favor. She'd meant what she'd told him in the forest, she meant to give them her blessing. Her warning...it was _supposed_ to be a bluff. However, some things could not be helped. She could feel so many emotions revolving around that tiny cabin of theirs. Sarah's heart...she wondered how he would react if he knew it was on the verge of giving itself? How would his plans change then? He was getting so close, making such progress. All her efforts would be for naught if he gained it now, if he was rewarded without first learning his lesson. She regretted causing Sarah pain, truly. She regretted having to use her so blatantly, but that stupid charm had thrown a wrench into all her schemes. Things were happening too quickly. Neither of them were ready. If he was not so angry perhaps he would have caught on to her ploy. But as it was, there were still other lessons to learn.

"An acrimony of your own design no less. Those were not her words. I know they were not." Jareth spoke with a measure of surety but it wasn't convincing. Liana became on guard then. It never ceased to amaze her; for being such a fool, he was surprisingly keen.

"You delude yourself-"

"No. We've come too far. I've invested too much-"

"To lose now?" She finished his sentence for him, though her assumption was purposefully leading. He bit the inside of his cheek. He wanted to shout how mistaken she was, to reveal the painful truth of his heart, that it wasn't about winning or losing, that he'd invested too much, they'd come too far, for it to simply..._not have been real_. All he ever wanted was for it to be real. No dreams. No stupors. No tricks. They'd had that last night. They'd had that and it was perfect, and she -she took it all away! Nonetheless, such arguments had already been defeated and he found himself unable to respond. "Tell me Jareth, that is the real reason why you're here isn't it? That is the real reason you're so angry. You don't care that I ruined your precious wedding night or that I might have made her cry. It is your grander schemes that have you so vexed. All that work and all for naught. It's been so much easier to seduce her without my guardianship, hasn't it? You really think I would just let you win? That I would sit idly by while you manipulated her right in front of me?"

"Manipulate? You think I'm still manipulating her?"

"Aren't you? Is this not what it has always been? Us fighting over a mutual pawn? Do not pretend you have any real interest in her wellbeing. Your concern for her is that of her consignment of me." Liana's tone was harsh but Jareth wasn't about to back down. She presumed too much. She was pushing him too far. He was trying so hard...

"You are wrong," he asserted and held her gaze sternly. "Search my heart and continue to spin my own words," he added. Liana glared away and started pacing. He was getting bold now. She didn't much care for it.

"For what purpose? To what end?" she asked, turning and throwing her hands up in an exasperated gesture. "If what I say is false then why are you even here? What do you hope to accomplish? Do you even know? You've been manipulating her all this time have you not? Forcing her hand with just the same craft as I, and yet you are outraged! Please, enlighten me to the whereabouts of this new moral ground from which you stand, for it seems to me that it is in fact you who is currently pressed under_ my_ thumb. And oh, look at how you squirm. Look at how you toss and turn and pitch a fit because the game is not as easy as you want it to be. You are spoiled and selfish and riddled with misgivings, too many to ever gain control over the Labyrinth-"

"Goddamn it woman. I told you this is not a game! I don't care about the Labyrinth. I care about her!"

He was so frustrated he'd closed his eyes as he yelled. It was impulsive yes, but he just couldn't stand listening to any more of her poisonous rant. The room had been so clamorous, it registered as a stark surprise when everything suddenly fell silent. When he reopened his eyes, he found Liana standing still, staring at him flagrantly.

"What was that?"

Jareth twitched, and for a moment he was caught off guard. The silence of the room became perturbed, the way she stared at him boring deep. He furrowed his brow and bit his cheek again, glancing to the floor as he spoke.

"I said I...I care about her. I'm here _because_ of her. I don't...care about anything else..."

"Well then, you said it...not I."

Jareth glanced up sharply at that. Her tone had changed dramatically, her posture, everything. She stared at him with the slyest of grins.

"What?"

She quirked a brow and turned away, her stroll a leisurely one. Gone was her anger, her condescendence. It was like she was toying with him. Like she'd been toying with him all along.

"I was beginning to wonder how much pain she had to go through before you realized it hurt you as well..."

Jareth blinked, baffled, and then he started to realize. The tension in his posture fell slack, the fight in his spirit starting to leave.

"What are you..." and then he looked down. His brow knitted tightly, disconcertion twisting his scowl. She was waiting for him to catch on. She...she was playing him? From the moment he walked in she was...Was he really...such an idiot? "So _that's_ what this is about..." he started, then cracked a wicked grin. "You were forcing a point?"

She made her way back to the altar, leaning against it casually.

"You always were rather thick-headed when it came to such things..." she said, letting her voice trail off distractedly. Jareth laughed then. He couldn't help it. He was beside himself.

"You mean to tell me all this time you've been putting her through so much duress, ruining any chance we might have at an actual relationship...for a fucking point?" Ire was returning to his voice. That and sheer disbelief. He couldn't quite believe it. What was she even saying? This was ridiculous… absolutely... asinine.

"It's not my fault it took you so long to catch on."

He looked up, his gaze going straight through her.

"Ah, I suppose you're right. And now that it has been made...will all this antagonizing cease?" There was a hollowness to his voice this time, a sense of defeat even. Liana rose a brow at him and shrugged.

"My, that is entirely up to you."

She saw his brow twitch again but he looked back downward to hide the reflexive flicker of his smirk.

"I see...So I guess we finally understand each other..." he mumbled.

"So it would seem."

She watched him carefully. He seemed to be on some kind of brink.

"Well then...We're done."

"Pardon?"

Her gaze widened subtly as he looked back up to her. Gone was his fury, his indecisiveness. He stood before her now with clear conviction, a dark shade cast upon him that had nothing to do with the contrast of light.

"I said we're done. I have had enough."

Liana blinked at him dubiously, caught off guard by his reaction. She thought for sure he would refute her, deny it, anything else really. But this...this was better than she could have ever hoped for. Perhaps she should improvise more often.

"Enough? Are you finally admitting defeat?" she asked. Jareth's gaze cast itself to the side, a pained expression on his face.

"_Hmph_. It would seem...we have reached an impasse. You no longer need fear my advances...you're not the one I should be chasing after," he said, the grip of his fists tightening as he spoke. Liana watched him closely, searched his heart as he had asked. He meant what he was saying. My, how very unexpected indeed.

"And what of the land? Would you turn your back on it so easily?" she probe. His brow twitched again and she saw there was something of sadness to it. He was letting go...was he really willing to let go?

"No. But that's precisely the problem is it not? She has suffered at the center of a squabble that has never had anything to do with her. That was your point, wasn't it? That if we stop squabbling, she will no longer suffer for it?"

"And you would agree to such terms?" she asked.

"Would you?"

Liana stared at him and nodded silently. Jareth's eyes lingered for a moment and then they fell to the floor. He turned swiftly as if to leave-

"And her hold?" Liana asked.

Jareth stopped in his tracks. Now his expression became even more painful.

"You think that after all this I would give her to you? No. If you will not be mine...then I assure you, she will never be yours. She will remain dormant and you will remain free. You will be separated...from her...from us." Ah, so this impasse was more like a stalemate. Well, there were only so many selfless acts she could expect from him in one day. She tilted her head as she watched him, drew in the emotions he tried so hard to keep from her. He was hurt, he was scorned, and he was...regretful. She felt a little guilty now; perhaps she had pushed too hard. Perhaps her love had been too tough.

"And if I were to refuse?" she asked, testing his integrity. This time he sneered.

"You've made it clear that I am the last person you would see as your master so take it or leave it. Either way I'm done with this. All of this.._this game_. You've won. It isn't worth it. You're no longer worth it."

He turned around and swiftly stormed away; without a second look, he left. Liana continued to stare after him, her curiosity thoroughly piqued. She thought for sure it would have taken at least another month to squeeze that out of him. She must not have been giving him due credit. What an interesting development. Was it all's well that ends well? She wondered how long it would last.

* * *

Jareth stared out a window overlooking his kingdom. He was in a hallway, he didn't know which. Everything...was the same. It was as it always was. The sun was out, the sky bright. The natives bustled below like a scurry of ants. The forest stretched ahead and beyond it...desert.

It'd been a full day since his argument with Liana, a full day since Sarah had effectively thrown his heart back in his face. After returning to the castle that morning, he was so angry he just couldn't stop himself. He wanted answers. Only...not the one's he'd ultimately gotten.

He was still angry when he left and thought it best to calm himself before even thinking about finding Sarah. She was probably with the nymph...probably distracting herself much better than he was. Was he a coward? Should he wait so long to see her? She had tried talking to him that morning...tried to explain herself, but he wouldn't hear any of it. He was so angry...

He'd stormed off quickly after their return to the castle. He'd ignored her completely. She probably misunderstood. She probably thought she was the reason he was so angry. It'd been a whole day since.

Damn it.

He took a deep breath and slouched against the windowsill. The breeze felt good against his skin, cool and gentle. He closed his eyes and tried to clear his head. He needed to fix this. He wanted things to go back to the way they were: when she smiled and laughed freely, when he could touch her and hold her and be someone she deserved. He thought over the few such memories they had and he wondered, with creeping cynicism, if that indeed had ever been the way things were, if he had ever been someone she deserved. He wanted to be. He pretended to be. But Liana was right. That wasn't the same. Maybe it was just a phantasm. Whatever it was, It wasn't...what he wanted.

He scowled and lowered his head, his hands gripping the frame of the window. It angered him that absolutely everyone doubted the authenticity of his feelings when he knew without a doubt that he loved her more than any of them could possibly fathom. It didn't matter. He didn't need their damn approval. And yet, no matter how much he grumbled, he couldn't stop Liana's words from getting to him. Was he misled? Had he been confusing love with something else all this time? If so then what was this? What was this entity that strangled him so? What was this feeling he had never before felt for a single person in his entire life? He wanted her more than anything. More than anything...

But why? Why did he want her? Why did he love her? She had asked him that, asked him plainly and he...could not answer. Was there a reason? Did there need to be a reason?

He tried to think but it only flustered him more.

_Remember how this all started_. Liana had said that, and yes he did remember. He remembered it clearly. This all started because he wanted the Labyrinth. He wanted his birthright. But as he himself had just proclaimed, he wanted her more than _anything_. Was he really so obtuse? Had he really taken such a proclamation for granted? He wanted her more than anything, which meant he wanted her...

More than the Labyrinth. He wanted her more than the Labyrinth. It was a statement he never would have believed and yet, even now as it rang through his mind a sense of complacency soothed him. It brought peace to his heart. As if all this time he had indeed been full of _misgivings_.

He thought about that night, about the way she turned to him in the dark, about the way they held onto one another with such unspoken desperation. Then he thought about the way she woke him with terror, about the depth of her gaze as it glistened with tears and the tremble in her body as she prayed to be anywhere but in his arms. Every time. The bridges steadily built between them crumbled every time. He thought about how to fix them, how to make them stronger, whether or not to even bother. He thought about a lot of things, the real and the make-believe, the beautiful...and ugly.

And so he stood and stared out at the glimmer of pathos that rendered his kingdom so beautiful, at the strife and turmoil that for some reason he continued to strive for, and then...and then a subtle realization swept over him.

"Jareth? Oh, there you are."

Jareth's gaze rose as he pulled out of his daydream, though he hesitated in turning around.

"I've been looking for you everywhere."

He glanced back at Roldan with a raised brow, then begrudgingly pulled himself away from the window.

"Have you now?" he asked, his expression bored as he slouched back against the frame of the window. Roldan gave him a good once over, though was quick to dismiss his apparent dejection.

"Yes actually. I haven't seen you at all since the ceremony. Everything go well I take it?" he asked, much too light-heatedly for him to actually care. Jareth shrugged and looked away.

"As well as could be expected," he said, giving in to stand up properly. Roldan quirked him a brow, his only effort in acknowledging the king's funk, then began searching through the folder he carried.

"I see. Congratulations then," he said, distractedly. Jareth cracked a smirk. It was uncanny that he of all people would be the one so cheery. "Might I ask where you've been? I was expecting you home after the ceremony. I hope I needn't inform you it's been well past twenty-four hours since?" Jareth rolled his eyes.

"I've been busy. Does that satisfy you?"

Roldan paused, shot him an eye, then went back to his rummaging.

"If it must..."

"What do you want?" Jareth asked, a bit impatiently; Roldan's pleasant mood was starting to annoy him.

"I have some papers for you to sign...regarding the Athom Canal," he said, pulling a few documents from a folder to set on top.

"What about it?"

"I'm going to check up on it."

"When?"

"I thought I'd go tonight, or tomorrow morning rather. It should only take a couple days." Roldan wasn't paying much attention as he spoke and was therefore oblivious to Jareth's expression as it became more pensive.

"Hm..." he mumbled, about to sign Roldan's proxy waver, but then stopped when an idea came to head. "Actually...perhaps I should go myself," he said, and crumpled the paper in his hand. Roldan frowned.

"Really? There's really no reason. Your signature will be enough. I can break the bottle all the same," he assured, wondering why Jareth was suddenly taking initiative. He usually hated these kinds of things, bidding him to act in his stead. In fact, that was only reason he took this matter upon himself in the first place. Jareth had been getting rather ornery lately about being bothered with trivial issues...and he figured he'd rather spend his time with Sarah anyway.

The King's look of concentration continued to furrow, though it was obvious he was no longer reading.

"I'm sure you can. However, it's getting close to completion is it not? It may be time I finally see it for myself," he said, distractedly, gaining Roldan's curiosity. He didn't bother to inquire however, gathering from the dour tone of Jareth's voice that his answer would be as cryptic as his behavior.

"Very well. Should I inform Sarah?"

"No." Roldan drew his brow then. He answered that question much too readily. _Oh_, so that was his problem. Funny, he'd just spoken to Sarah and she seemed to be in a perfectly fine mood... "No, that won't be necessary. I'll tell her myself," he clarified, though the fumble had hardly been averted. Roldan pursed his lips, his once pleasant expression reverting to its usual state of boredom.

"Of course, Sire," he said, dismissively and went to take his leave. Jareth was still distracted by whatever had put such a forlorn look on his face and Roldan was finding it increasingly irksome to endure.

"Do you know where she is, by chance?"

Roldan stopped and turned back, raising a tired brow and rolling his eyes.

"I just saw her not too long ago. In the library. I believe she was writing a letter to Mariella."

"Mariella?" Jareth asked, confused. "You mean the nymph?"

"Yes, the nymph."

"Is there a reason they are not together?"

Roldan's stare was vacant, as if expecting him to be joking. He wasn't.

"Because she departed for her homeland early yesterday morning?" he answered, hoping to ring some bells. Jareth only scowled.

"And I was not informed of this because?" he asked. Roldan shrugged. There was an edge of irritation in Jareth's voice. The King did not like visitors coming and going as it was, especially without his knowledge.

"Forgive me, I merely assumed Sarah would have told you. It seems there is some kind of family emergency. Her father is ill. She should only be gone for a few days," he explained, candidly, hoping that if he did not make a big deal out of it, neither wouldhe. Jareth stepped forward and handed him back the signed papers, a condescending gaze glossing over him.

"You seem to know a lot," he said, suggestively. Roldan rose his brow.

"You did tell me to keep an eye on her didn't you?" he countered. He was getting impatient now. Seriously. Jareth could be so touchy sometimes.

"Anything else I should be informed of?" Jareth asked. Again Roldan shrugged.

"Not particularly. Though I have intercepted more of her letters...should I continue construing them?" He watched as Jareth turned away then, his gaze falling to the floor as he contemplated.

"Yes. I haven't heard a peep from Davion. So, either he's been enjoying our wasted efforts or hasn't caught on. Either way, I don't want her leaking information of any kind," he said, halting his pacing as he looked back up to Roldan.

"Understood."

Jareth smiled then, a hollow one, and stepped towards him. He placed a hand on his shoulder as he walked by. "Well then, see you in a few days," he said and left.

* * *

_Dear Marie_...

Sarah tapped her pen as she stared down at the all but blank piece of paper. It'd been about ten minutes now and all she could manage was the heading. She was actually looking forward to this, she had so much to say and yet...when was the last time she'd even written a letter? She was drawing a total blank. It was awkward. _How are things? I hope the weather's good. The wedding? Oh it was fine... _No matter what, it all just sounded stupid. She'd crumpled up two pieces of paper already. It didn't help that she had a million other things on her mind.

_I got your letter. I'm glad to hear you arrived safely. Don't forget to take a bunch of pictures while you're down there-_

There. That was something. It was her idea that Marie take the camera on her trip. She was curious to see what the Isles of Masoch looked like and Mariella was sure to have a blast with it. But, knowing her, she'd probably used up the whole stack already. Hm...she'd have to ask Jareth for more.

_How is your father? I hope he and the rest of your family are doing well. Please, pass along my regards. I know I'm just a human, but if there's anything I can do to help-_

Earlier, for a split second -just one- she'd thought about asking for Roldan's advice. He'd been in here a little while ago, quite frankly surprised to see her there. She was a little offended actually. Was it odd for her to be in the library of her own accord? She was literate. She read books. Geez. However, she immediately realized asking him for help would make her look like an idiot and simply ignored him as he went about his business, something that they probably both appreciated. He did go out of his way to congratulate her however...as backhanded a comment as it was, and even went so far as to ask how the night had been. Was it because she had a title that he was being extra nice? She wasn't sure. Although, all things considered...maybe it was about time to give him the benefit of the doubt and stop being so suspicious all the time.

_To answer your question, yes. You could say the wedding went well. It's kind of strange. I don't feel like a queen. Albeit, it's been one day and I've been all alone._

Oops. Should she scratch out that part? She wasn't sure whether or not she should burden Marie with her troubles while she was away. She had enough going on without having to worry about her pitiful relationship problems. She'd probably just come rushing back and that would defeat the whole purpose. Hm...

_I miss you._

Her eager expression fell to a frown as she wrote that.

_It feels like there's no one to talk to when you're not around. Roldan's been in a well enough mood. I haven't really seen Jareth-_

Damn it. She really, really wanted to scratch that part out. Would it look stupid if she did? She didn't really want to waste another piece of paper...

_He's been busy I guess. There's been...some stuff going on. Nothing to worry about I swear. I started looking for my friends. I gave Baldur their names and descriptions, hopefully he'll be able to find them soon. It'd be great if we could all hang out together. I think you'd really like them...I think._

_I know you're just going to ask again, so I'll tell you now. No, we did not come back to the castle that night. Yes, we are fine. Jareth showed me a cabin hidden somewhere in the woods. We ended up just staying there. It was actually very nice..._

A moment passed. Sarah blinked and she realized she'd zoned out on her paper, her pen hovering over that last line. Her frown intensified and she pursed her lips. Should she mention what happened after? Should she even allude to it? She didn't want to keep it bottled up for another few days, however the thought of putting it all into written words was more than off-putting.

Her hand constricted around the pen and she pulled away. She felt very guilty still, very confused over the whole thing. Something just didn't seem right. To be honest it felt...wrong. It felt very wrong.

She couldn't explain it, not properly, not without sounding like a lunatic, but it felt like it was something more than a nightmare that spurred her on. That kind of intensity...it wasn't like her. It wasn't natural. It didn't _feel _natural. Was she going crazy? Was she bipolar? Was there a bushel of magical plants nearby? How could she explain this to Jareth? If she tried, what would she even be...trying to say?

She glanced away then, a minor bit of shame creeping over her. She felt dirty, despicable even. That night, after so much worrying finally it had all just fallen into place. She didn't understand...

_Believe it or not, a lot has happened in the 36 hours you've been gone. I can't wait to tell you...I could really use your guidance. I don't think it's right to discuss through a letter however. I'll wait till you're here. I'm sure I'll have plenty more to tell you by then anyway-_

She was starting to feel depressed now. It was already mid-afternoon. A full day had passed and she had yet to hear a single word from Jareth. She figured he must still be upset. She didn't blame him. After the way she'd screamed at him, the things she'd said...

That was another thing that didn't add up. What she said, whether or not she meant it in the moment, after she'd calmed down she couldn't do enough to convey her regret. Her remorse even. Did that mean that wasn't the way she felt after all? Then why would she say such things in the first place? Why would she...feel so guilty about it afterwards.

She bit her lip as she stared down at the paper. She felt like an insect. That was the only way she could describe it. A puny, grubby, insignificant insect. Jareth had told her he loved her and she was...

What did she feel in that moment? It was strange. It wasn't surprise. No, she wasn't shocked in the slightest. She'd heard those words before. She could have sworn she'd been preparing for them. What she felt...what had driven her over the edge...was fear. She was terrified. Where did it come from? How was that a logical reaction? It didn't make sense. It wasn't her. But that was the million dollar question wasn't it? If it wasn't her then...what was it?

She wanted to bring this up with Jareth, maybe they could chock it all up to a misunderstanding, but frankly she was too afraid to seek him out. Would he even believe her? Or would she appear cheap? Jareth always said he didn't hold grudges...she'd always had a hard time believing that.

_Anyway, rest assured that all is well. I look forward to reading your next letter. Don't forget to bring back a souvenir!_

_Best wishes,_

_Sarah_

She read through her letter a couple more times but could only give it a B- at best. She was sure it would be fine. Mariella wouldn't care anyway. Should she tack on a p.s.? Was it friendly enough? Too friendly? She knew Marie was insightful, she might suspect something was up if she over-did it. Hm...she was over-doing it just by thinking about it.

She sighed and closed her eyes. There were just too many things on her mind. She thought the solitude would help but it only made it worse. All this contention...to what end? She was so conflicted over clarifying what had happened, of assuring him, of expressing how she...

Truly felt. She wanted to express how she truly felt. Perhaps that was why she felt so guilty, because all this time...regardless of everything, she...she still managed to...

She scowled and lowered her head to the table. Her fist gripped the shaft of the pen fiercely and she groaned. Ugh, this was the worst. Perhaps it was all inevitable. Perhaps it was cosmic justice reminding her how much of an idiot she was. They'd been getting along so well lately, things were bound to blow up in their faces. But, that's what she got for sitting on the fence for so long. That's what she got for trying to have both. She now realized she couldn't. She couldn't love and hate him. She couldn't blame him and then reach for him. That was no way to live. That was no way to have a relationship. It wasn't fair to either of them. She needed to figure out...what was more important.

The tension in her grip relaxed as she thought, her sighs became breaths, her groans fell silent. She'd already answered that question, hadn't she? She knew exactly what mattered to her most, and the bitter truth was that she'd known for a while, she might even dare say _all along_. She'd accepted it that night. She'd taken it...

All this time she'd been forcing herself instead of just letting it be. How would her life change if she stopped? What would happen if she just...lived?

Maybe that was all it took. Maybe Roldan wasn't the only one she should be giving the benefit of the doubt. Maybe it really was time...to move on.

"_Ahem_..."

Sarah glanced up on reflex and then her eyes widened. She leaned up off the table, not sure what her expression should be as she blanched under the weight of Jareth's stare.

"Ah-...Sorry I...didn't know you were there," she said, anxiously, her eyes darting away from him as she brushed a hand across her cheek. Her face had been pressed against her letter. She hoped there wasn't ink smudged across her forehead. Jareth's stare remained fixed on her, ignoring her awkwardness, intense as usual. However, she was surprised to see it flicker away once she had the confidence to rise her gaze back to him. He opened his mouth to speak, though he hesitated. She lowered her hands under the table, letting them knot in her lap unseen.

"I wasn't...until just now," he said, his expression hardened though just as uncertain as hers. She didn't know what to say, how to start this...

"Oh," was all she managed.

"Might I join you for a moment?" he asked. Sarah furrowed her brow but nodded.

"Okay..."

He took the seat across from her, staring downward as he did so. There seemed to be something heavy weighing on his mind. But then again, that went without saying. Her fingers tapped nervously beneath the table. It was quiet for an agonizing moment, until he scowled intently.

"I apologize...if I've disturbed you," he said, subtly trying to gauge her mood. Sarah frowned at him, anxious butterflies beginning to flutter in her chest.

"You didn't. -I mean...you aren't," she said, biting her lip and then glanced away as she chided herself. It was quiet for a moment. She didn't realize how uncomfortable finally seeing him would be.

"I've been thinking..." he started, and his voice trailed off. "About what you said-"

"What I said?" she repeated, peering back to him. There were a lot of things she'd said...

"About why it is I love you," he clarified. She was unprepared when his eyes rose up to hers, nor for how serious his gaze had become. She couldn't help but gape. Well, way to get right to it.

"Oh...um..."

"To be honest, I've never thought about a reason. I didn't need one. I knew my feelings and that was good enough," he said, leaving her free to shut her open mouth. She bit her lip again, not sure if she should respond.

"But-" and she glanced down. Worry was hitting her full force, but it was a question she still needed the answer to. She simply wasn't expecting him to be so forward. "You didn't know me. I was just a kid-"

"No. You weren't." He cut her off and she lost even more confidence.

"But, then how could you-"

"I told you," he interrupted again, his brow drawing tight. "I've been thinking. If you...wouldn't mind I would like to...tell you a story." He stared at the table-top as he spoke, his expression deeply disconcerted. Sarah frowned in response.

"Okay..."

It was quiet for another moment, her stare on him eager as he struggled with how to start.

"As you may well know, my father was...a difficult man." His eyes flickered to the side and she caught a glimmer of angst in them. Her frown deepened then, as she already had a sinking feeling as to what kind of story this was going to be. "He was boorish. Inconsiderate...irreverent. When I was younger I thought him to be the worst thing to ever happen to this kingdom and my mother...loved him endlessly." She could tell by his posture that his hands had fisted beneath the table and she realized this might be the first time he'd ever directly spoken of his mother. She continued nibbling her lip and glanced down.

"I'm not sure what you've heard, but my mother...had a very _meager_ presence. She was a slight woman, timid and careful. She was...very feeble in body, so she fell ill often. However, what many do not realize is that she was not always like that." Now that caught Sarah's attention. She glanced back up to him but he was still looking away. "I don't know how she came to care for him, nor what he was like _before_, but after they married he began to expect a great deal from her. He demanded children, as many husbands do, though as you are aware for us such efforts are usually...arduous. Time passed and his affections for her dwindled. In...what I hope was an act of desperation, she began to procure a number of supplements-"

"Supplements?" She didn't mean to interrupt him, but from the tension about him he looked like he needed it. Jareth paused and peered over to her. She did her best not to peer away.

"Yes...drugs meant to increase fertility," he explained. "They are quite common amongst my people, however...my father was already impatient. In the effort to fulfill her duty and earn back his love, she took excessive amounts." He paused again and his brow twitched, and she wondered what kind of memory had surfaced just then. She could feel her own frown worsening. "It worked," he carried on. "I was conceived and after my successful delivery she thought it best to keep up the regiment until she had Davion. However...by then the medicines had taken their toll and my brother's labor proved very difficult. She managed to survive it and thankfully Davion was born healthy, though her body suffered irreparable damage." He shifted in his seat then, a gesture of discomfort. She wasn't sure if she was meant to respond yet, so remained silent. Jareth sighed and rose his brow.

"She became barren, highly susceptible to illness. I did my best to tend to her, to...find ways to alleviate her suffering. My father however did not share this concern. Instead he was...was absolutely disgusted." He sneered and shook his head, tensing his jaw as he fought back the more unsavory details. "He blamed her, said she was irresponsible and no longer a full woman. She thought birthing him two strong sons would be enough to win back his heart but, and I remember this clearly, he only laughed as she cried and walked away as the doctors scurried around her. From then on my mother did everything in her capability to please him, to be a good wife. And every day my brother and I would watch him belittle her...disrespect her, defile and violate her. He abused her in ways that I..." and his voice trailed off. He took in a breath and his eyes flickered down. Then he smiled and changed directions.

"He kept her secluded, paraded his whores about our home before her, went out of his way to cause her grief. He undermined her authority and took away everything that made her whole, until she was convinced everything she was, was in him. Davion and I did our best. We would try to deflect his tantrums, would requisition her punishments but...she would never let us. Every time she would take responsibility and every time she would fall weeping into my arms." He swallowed then and she could see his jaw tense. This reaction troubled her, for was he not describing instances that, at one point, might have very well been a portent of their own future? She thought about Marie just then, about what she'd said regarding his relationship with his parents. It was clear how much he cared about his mother, and yet still he would follow in those footsteps? She was finding it hard to understand.

"I hated my father," Jareth said, and she blinked out of her daze. "I hate him more than you can imagine. I despise him to this very day and yet...I still hated _her_ more." Sarah's eyes widened with surprise and she drew back from the table a little. She hadn't expected him to say that. Not at all. "I hated her for being so weak, for _allowing _herself to be treated so horribly and to do it with a smile. It always confounded me...every unwarranted blow, every vile act inflicted for no other reason than the sheer delight tormenting her brought him, and yet she never once rose her voice. She never once protested or demanded her due. She was the queen of the Goblin Kingdom for gods' sake! And yet, the only hand she ever rose was in defense of him. I didn't understand how such a thing could be possible...how a love like that could exist." He was starting to raise his voice now, so he actively reigned himself in. He took a moment to gather his thoughts and looked down again, the tension in his posture returning.

"When he died...for a brief moment I felt relief like no other. Finally I would have the chance to fix all of the damage he'd caused. I alone would restore our family's and this nation's reputation. I told her to rejoice...she could be free and yet...just the mere mention of a world without him brought her such uncontrollable terror. It was as if she was drowning little by little, every day that passed. Until one day..." He closed his eyes and shook his head. She would have been concerned if she didn't already know exactly what it was he was having trouble saying. "She sacrificed everything for him until there was not one ounce of soul left in her. She was a shell of a person and just as it had disgusted him, it disgusted me. It disgusted me that not only had she given up, she had refused to fight, to live. When she died I felt...hollow. Like nothing had changed." He fell silent once more, giving Sarah the opportunity to finally speak. She nibbled on her lip and sat up straighter, but was caught off guard by what he said next.

"When I met Aurelia..." he started, and she held her breath. "I felt...comforted. I felt like her presence with me was natural and I realized it was because I somehow recognized they were one in the same. She too was agreeable, amiable. She never once rose her voice or disputed against me. She went out of her way to please me when I made no effort to return her affection. She let me be whatever I wanted to be and accepted punishments eagerly. It was easy to be with her...because I was used to it." Sarah felt herself frown again. She wasn't sure how to interpret what'd he'd just said. According to Mariella, he was drawn to her because of how similar they were to his parents but...was that not the case after all?

"When I first met you however..." he said. Sarah was about to look away but instead peered up quickly. She was confused to find him smiling. "or rather, the first time I saw you," he clarified, raising a brow and glancing towards the ceiling. "I knew...something. I knew there was something unlike the rest. I couldn't figure out what it was, but it was in your stare. There was something inherent in it that commanded my attention. No woman had ever commanded anything from me."

Sarah began to scowl. Not intentionally of course, there was simply no other expression to make. She wasn't sure what he was talking about. They'd met the night she'd wished away Toby. Though she had a feeling...he was referring to a different time altogether.

"You were young, younger than you think. About twelve maybe. Back then I would fly between worlds. I was...looking for something." He wavered then, a flicker of contention in his brow. He wanted to be honest with her. He wanted to tell her the truth. He was trying to do so, but...there were still some things that could never be said. "I was looking for something and there was something just so...calming about the Aboveground sky. It was an escape from the clouds that loomed over my own horizon. I remember landing in a tree. I didn't usually land, but that day something caught my eye. There was a girl, playing by herself. She was quite loud, obnoxious really, but oh, the energy she exuded." There was an air of playfulness to his tone as he said that. Sarah wasn't sure how she should be feeling. In actuality, what he was revealing to her was really quite alarming. Jareth didn't seem to view it as such however. No, he smiled as he told her, as if the memory was one he cherished. Sarah began to fidget in her seat in response to it. She was just a kid... "I watched her as she frolicked, thrusting a stick and commanding invisible foes. There was a brightness in her eyes. Something that I found immeasurably...refreshing. Unwittingly I found myself delighted just by watching her. She was so radiant. So..." and then he stopped himself, pulling his head from the clouds and bringing his gaze to her. She couldn't help but gape at it. "Eventually though, she left and I too returned to my home." Sarah opened her mouth to comment, but upon sensing it he tore his gaze away and carried on.

"At first I thought nothing of it, a human girl was of no consequence to me. But...as time went on, I found myself hovering over the same patch of trees, waiting for the possibility of happening upon her again. All I wanted was to see her, to hear her voice. I never stopped to ask myself why." And that was partly true. Everything he said about that time...it might have been a half truth, but it was in no way a lie. He was enamored by her, and not just because she would make an excellent candidate for his plan. "I must admit...from then on my interest in you grew exponentially until it became part of my routine. I would go to the forest and wait for you to appear. Sometimes you would come, when you did you were always alone but always smiling." His expression became wayward as he recalled that time, how simple it was, how innocent he wished it could have been. Sarah's posture was still apprehensive, but she couldn't deny the warmth seeing such a look on his face brought to her heart, knowing it was because of her. "You said I did not know you the day we met. However...I have to disagree." His tone shifted then, it became serious and he looked back to her with an expression that matched. His eyes held hers and she scowled when she realized she couldn't dare look away.

"I've watched you for a long time, Sarah. I've watched you grow...laugh, cry. I watched as the fire in your eyes rendered you more beautiful to me than anything. Whatever possessed me to venture to that tree time after time, whatever it was I was subconsciously longing for that I saw in you...It was without a doubt something I did not have. Something I had never experienced. But, as you grew older, I noticed something had started to change. Somewhere along the line you had stopped smiling. You hardly laughed. Instead you would sulk. You would sit on the swing alone for hours and do nothing. Sometimes you read. Sometimes you would recite verses, pretend to be someone else, someone with a life far more grand than your own. I did not know what had stolen the light from your gaze, but as I watched you struggle I found it had become unbearable for me to do so. I..." and then his voice softened.

"I wanted to meet you. I wanted you to know that all that time you were not alone. There was someone who knew the parts of you that you would never dare show to anyone. Before I knew it, my curiosity had turned to fancy, one of the most depraving kind...But as it was, I could not simply appear to you. No, I needed you to need me. I wanted to be able to save you. So I...constructed a book, a book that I thought would appeal to your woes. One that would have you running towards me..." For the tenth time his gaze had fallen to the table, however now it was because he could not bring himself to look her in the eye. Truth...this was the truth. It didn't matter what he was looking for in the woods that day. It didn't matter that he had ulterior motives...that the book was designed...to lure her into running the Labyrinth.

"You had such an open mind," he continued. "You were so willing to believe in me and my world. You cannot begin to understand how rare such a thing was." It was true. It was rare, and that was her misfortune. If there had been anyone else, anyone else he had happened upon first who had the same strength of imagination as she...both their lives would be extremely different. "I was hoping...that you would wish yourself to me, that I could save you from whatever plights you suffered under. However...that's not what happened. Instead you wished away your brother. It was all the same. I had been given the chance to meet you and that's all that mattered. I admit...I was excited. I am...not fully in control when I am excited. And you most definitely caught me off guard." Sarah began to blush then. She remembered that night better than any other. Yes, he was excited. She never thought...it'd been so long in the making.

"I had been waiting for so long, for the moment that gaze in all its potency would turn to me and I might finally understand what it was that drew me to it. The moment you looked at me. The moment you _saw me_, I...couldn't help but revel. However, you did not smile as I had hoped. You did not rejoice. No, instead you greeted me with fear and suspicion. You demanded your brother back. You demanded. I was shocked and yet-" He laughed then, incredulously, and smiled. "I've...never felt such liberation as I did in that moment."

"What?" Sarah's outburst had been instinctive and she quickly recoiled from it. She didn't mean to say that. She scowled and looked into her lap.

"You stood up to me," he said and she slowly brought her gaze back to him. The look on his face was humble, complacent even. She didn't...understand. "You had the courage, the audacity even, to look me square in the eye and not only did you see me as your equal, you asserted yourself as mine," he explained, but her brow only furrowed harder. "And I realized...the brightness I saw in you as a child had not been snuffed, no it was still there, stronger than ever. I was enraptured by it. I...wanted all of it. I wanted to see you, to experience you. So...when you looked at me and saw a villain, I could do nothing less than live up to those expectations. You played my game and I was only too happy to play yours. I watched you struggle with such determination, it was a side of you I had never gotten to see before. Regardless of my antagonization there was no way I could see you lose. I helped you along...I planted guides to show you the way, I gave you a knight to defend yourself. I did everything to make sure you won because...it would bring you directly to me." He wanted to believe that had been his sole motivation, that Sarah was the only one he was trying to fool in regards to his intentions. The truth was, the show was for Liana, to make her think Sarah was a real competitor and that he was truly against her. It had worked. Oh, how it had worked.

"When I asked you to stay...for some reason I thought you would say yes. I was...not expecting..." He was not expecting her to say no. No woman had ever told him no. He didn't understand. He'd put her in that position knowing full well how it would end, but as she stood on the cusp of the Labyrinth's heart, he realized that the last thing he wanted was to kill her. He had never wanted that. He should have chosen someone else and kept her all to himself. "But then you left. You left and all of the sudden I had lost you entirely. Because of my own foolish rules, I could no longer see you. I couldn't..." It was his fault. He was so sure of victory he hadn't accounted for Liana herself. The moment Sarah had seized victory, it was Liana who had spoken to him. It was Liana who had denied him. Sarah had been possessed and it was clear she was determined to protect the wellbeing of her master. He'd raced after her immediately, but he could not approach her. No, he was allotted one glimpse through her window before Liana's presence had forced him away. Liana kept her hidden after that. She was lost to him. Just like that.

"For a time I was angry, angrier than I'd been in a long time, and I thought about a million wicked ways to punish you. I waited and waited...years passed, and then suddenly the terms of our contract ended. Just like that you could be mine again. I wasted no time. I acted on impulse. I wanted you more fiercely than ever before and I did punish you greatly. I was so angry and hurt by you. I wanted you to feel the same anguish I had endured." He shifted his posture again and brought his hands to rest atop the table, his fingers lacing with contemplation.

"You asked me why it is I love you...The answer is because you did endure it." He locked onto her gaze, not surprised to find she was still skeptical. "The reason is because you are nothing like her, not like Aleigha or Aurelia. You are not weak. You are strong and resilient. You stand against me for what you want, what you believe in, no matter how much of my wrath it incurs. No matter how many times I hurt you, step out of line or strike you down, somehow you still have the audacity to look me in the eye and tell me no. Sarah, make no mistake, I am my father's son. No matter my intentions, there are parts of myself I cannot help. I am selfish and deceitful. I am angry and I will always do the wrong thing. You may not like it, nor acknowledge it, but I love you because you fight me. Because I need you to fight me. Because there are times when you look at me the way she looked at him and in those moments I remember why it is I hated them both. You are the one person who has made me regret my actions, who makes me want to be something better than what I have always been. Because I don't want to be like him..." He glanced away and furrowed his brow.

"I have hurt you and I am sorry. And I am sorry because I will hurt you again. I know it is selfish and unfair, but you are the only one who I want to withstand it. What I saw that day in the park, in that little girl who had only her imagination for companionship, was the power to strive, a strength of will that was as great as mine. Someone whom I could truly regard. I recognized it then and I confirmed it the moment you looked into my eyes. You may think I've been looking down on you all this time, but the truth is...I've always valued you as my equal. Someone like me...I need more than a lover, more than an object. I need an opponent who is also a companion. And you _are_ my perfect opponent. You are...perfect to me. If that is not love, then tell me what is?"

Sarah sat speechless as she realized that was her cue to respond. She just stared at him, her expression deeply shaken. She didn't know what to say. She didn't have the slightest fucking clue.

"Jareth, I..."

"I have been ruthless in my acquisition of you," he interjected, preemptively prolonging her inevitable rejection. "And yes my actions may have been hypocritical, but retrospect is often prudent. All I can say is for me there was no other way. I did not know of any other way. You've made me desperate. You've ruined me completely. I don't expect you to ever reciprocate such feelings. Regardless of what I want, that would be...far more than I deserve. All I ask is that you stand by me, that you continue to endure me and perhaps, from time to time, allow me the simple joy of your smile."

Sarah waited, though it seemed this time he was actually finished. She stared at him a moment longer, trying and failing to get her thoughts in order. In the end, all she could muster was a downward glance.

"Jareth...I really don't know...what to say," she said, uncomfortably. There was a lot of information in that story of his. She was still processing through it. She knew deep down what mattered was the way she felt in this moment and how best to convey that to him. She felt...she felt...disturbed. Disturbed by the way she really felt.

"I don't want you to say anything. It's probably better if you don't."

She looked up to him; for some reason she was surprised. It was like he knew what her answer would be, but he didn't. He really didn't.

"Jareth-"

"Don't. I merely...wanted to tell you. I wanted to explain myself before I have to leave-" He looked away and leaned back from the table. It seemed as if he was about to stand, so she leaned towards him anxiously.

"Leave? Where are you going?"

"There's some business that I must see to...in the south. I'll be gone for a couple days." For a moment he thought about telling her more, he even thought about inviting her. She would probably enjoy it. However...some time apart might be to their benefit.

"Oh...okay."

"I realize this is inopportune...I was not aware your lady had departed," he said, feeling slightly guilty at the thought of leaving her with no one but Roldan. Would it be so bad if he took her with him? She would get to explore the kingdom, perhaps even find a distraction from their current sordid affairs. However, they would have to be_ together_. They would have to put on a front as the _happy newly-married couple_. He didn't want to force her...or himself.

"No...that's alright...I'll be fine," she said. He glanced back to her then and just kind of...stared.

"...There's one more thing," he said. Sarah looked at him expectantly. "Your necklace...I would ask that you wear it." He watched her brow draw with confusion.

"Huh?" and she glanced down as a hand went to her neck. "But...I am wearing it?"

"I know. I meant...continue to wear it. Do not take it off."

She continued to stare at him. He was being ominous. She didn't like it after the discussion they'd just had.

"Why?"

"I...put a charm on it."

If she didn't know any better, she might've said he'd winced just then. She sat back a little and clutched the pendent over her heart.

"What?" she asked. Jareth took a deep breath. It was stupid of him to keep it a secret from her. He should have used this tactic from the start.

"A protection spell...to guard you against certain magical entities. I would ask that you wear it, especially while I am gone," he explained, actually to her ease. She relaxed a bit and looked down, though still skeptical.

"Oh...okay. But when did you-?"

"It doesn't matter," he stated, hoping she wouldn't probe too deeply. He was telling the truth. The charm was meant to protect her. She didn't need to know explicitly from what. "Just...please. This is very important. Keep it on you at all times. If, for whatever reason you must take it off, keep it within arms' reach. If somehow anything ever did happen, all you have to do is call my name and I'll be there instantly," he urged, and she could tell that he was speaking earnestly. She'd never seen a reason to question him when it came to protecting her. She understood there were certain dangers, and she believed he wanted to keep her safe...from things that were not him.

"Okay."

Her response was assured and she hoped it conveyed even just a hint of her more subdued feelings. She was putting faith in him. Without question. Would he take it for granted? Was she being too subtle?

"Also...I would ask, for my peace of mind, that you stay indoors. However, if you choose to go outside it would be better to stay close to the castle...out of the gardens. I'm still...having them inspected," he added, slowly realizing there were more loose ends to leaving her behind than he initially realized. Sarah didn't seem to pick up on his ambivalence however. Instead she just nodded.

"Alright."

She was staring at him quite intently and he got the feeling she was trying to dissect him. Had she believed any of what he'd said? Any part of it? He'd never spoken of these things to anyone else. Regardless of how she reacted, she deserved to know. He wanted to know her response but he was...too afraid to ask.

He wanted to put her first, before anything else in the world. It might take some time, but he would strive for it, one day at a time.

"Well then..." he said, standing from his seat. "I bid you good day."

"-Um -Jareth?" He paused and turned around. He wasn't expecting her to look so fervent "Do you...have to leave right now?" she asked, her brow knitting with worry as she spoke. He was confused by it. It felt as if she needed something.

"No. I don't have to depart until later this evening."

"I see," and she glanced away. She started to fidget, biting her lip nervously. "Um...I was...writing a letter to Marie," she explained, then found the courage to look back up to him. "Could you maybe...show me how to send it?" she asked. He grew suspicious then. She knew very well how to send letters. However, something strange passed between them when she flickered her eyes away yet again and he found himself resisting the urge to sit back down. "And maybe you could even...stay here...for a while...if you wanted. Until you have to leave?"

Jareth's hand gripped the back of the chair as he regarded her. If he was foolish enough, he would say she was acting shy or embarrassed. He wanted to believe that. He wanted to believe the answer was as simple as what he saw in her stare.

She waited for him anxiously, stared at him as he openly pondered the deeper meaning of her words. Would he catch on? Was she being a coward? What were the right words? It was silly semantics, but still, even she didn't know what she was so obviously trying to say.

She watched him as he looked down, watched him as he smiled faintly to himself.

"Of course," he said. "All you ever have to do...is ask."

* * *

Sarah sighed as she gazed out the window. She was looking rather wistful standing there, some might go so far as to say it was a visage of longing. It was quite cliche of her really. In fact, she may have even been doing it on purpose.

"Um, Majesty Sarah? We's finished all the dustin'."

She turned and glanced down, having forgotten she was supposed to be scrubbing the windowsill.

"Hm? Oh, good. You guys can start mopping then."

She smiled as the goblin stood to attention, offered a salute and then marched away. He scurried a little, waving to his companions and shouting the queen's next orders.

"Come on, you heard the queen! Get ta movin!"

She turned away and stifled a giggle. They were taking this so seriously. She doubted anyone would believe her.

That morning had been something of an anomaly. It'd been awhile since she was alone like this. Marie was gone. Jareth was gone. Roldan was still around of course, somewhere at least. Let's not forget about him. But...Hm...nah. Nah she was still alone.

She wasn't sure what to do with herself. She'd promised Jareth she wouldn't go outside while he was gone and that limited her list of activities greatly. It was only day one without supervision and already she was feeling useless. With that in mind she went back to scrubbing the window, hoping it would give her a sense of purpose. She had wondered if there was anything she needed to do, anything she could do while Jareth was away. That made her number one in charge right? Or was Roldan the one to handle things? It was kind of funny, for all those lessons and lectures on responsibility, there was surprisingly absolutely nothing being asked of her.

So how was she to kill time? Cleaning the throne room? Sure, why not

"Whoa! Watch out!" A loud splash followed the exclamation, earning a sharp glance back from Sarah who immediately sagged in her spot. It seemed the goblins were making more messes than actually cleaning, though she still had faith in them. Was this her most brilliant idea? Probably not. Oh well, it was too late to turn back now.

"Guys, you can't just throw water across the floor remember? You have to scrub the tiles too," she said, resting a tired hand on hip. The goblins bowed in apology and she couldn't stop her burst of laughter when a few of them then slipped and tumbled to the floor.

"Of course Majesty! We're on it!"

Her day had started with an aimless stroll, down the same dim corridors, in and out of the same empty rooms. The upper levels of the castle were reserved for _more sophisticated beings_, meaning fae and only specially trained servant goblins. It was very lonely up there, whereas the lower levels weren't just comprised of goblins, they were strictly _for_ goblins. It was totally different down there, like the lower levels had been abandoned and left to the whimsical tomfoolery of the kingdom's more colorful denizens. There was minimal upkeep and little to no supervision. The guards had enough discipline to keep things from getting out of hand, but that was about it.

Roldan had said it was just easier that way, that the goblins had their own way of living and it was a miracle in and of itself that Jareth could get them to follow the law as it was. Leaving them be was supposed to be a compromise, however Sarah still found herself feeling kinda bad about it. For all the hundreds upon hundreds of rooms in this castle and Jareth only had one throne room? This was the place he had to receive prominent people like ambassadors and tradesmen and nobles? Even she felt a little ashamed about the state it was in. Quite frankly, she was surprised Jareth even let them run a muck of it in the first place.

That's when she remembered seeing him sitting in this very chair not too long ago and have to _endure_ the hysteria of his subjects. He always said goblins were fine and capable beings, and yet it was _easier_ to just leave it be? It seemed like he'd written them off before even giving them a chance. Had he ever even tried to acknowledge their potential? Who knows what might happen then.

And so her decision was made. This was something she could do for him, something to make the kingdom just a little bit better. It might not be much, it might not matter at all, but it was something. She'd managed to convince the goblins to tidy up easy enough, though convincing them to let her help was something else entirely. She'd even gotten them to pledge not to make any more messes and maintain the throne room's cleanliness for all of time. It would make the king proud, she'd told them. Hopefully that would be true. Jareth thought the goblins were something to be controlled and dealt with, maybe this small gesture would show him they could be _worked with_ instead. Also, coming home to a more respectable throne room was sure to make him happy right? Perhaps the better question was why she was going so far out of her way all of the sudden to do things that pleased him.

"Majesty Sarah! I made the list." She glanced down and accepted the weathered piece of paper from the goblin's hands. It was a list of supplies she wanted to freshen the place up, things like new curtains and rugs and such. The one's here all had holes and were so faded there was no hope in telling what their original color might have once been.

"Perfect. And you're sure you know where to get all this?" she asked. She'd taken a poll earlier and made a team that would go into town and procure said things on her behalf. They seemed competent enough. She surely hoped so.

"Yup. We know's exactly where to go."

"Alright then. Don't take too long. The king and queen are counting on you," she said, encouragingly. It seemed to work by the way they smiled and bounded out of the room. Sarah peered around then, observing all the tiny hands that scrubbed the stone and polished the throne with such genuine determination. She was already proud of them. She wanted to help, but they threw a fit every time she tried to do something even remotely physical. She'd mainly just been scrubbing this window, standing there are gazing at the desert that only seemed to stretch farther and farther.

"Um, excuse me Lady Sarah?"

Sarah turned and leaned up off the window, her vacant expression becoming bright when her eyes landed on Baldur.

"Baldur? Hey, what are you doing here?" she asked. He had his helmet off and held it under one arm. It wasn't often she saw him without it. Tuffs of white hair stuck out from either side of his face, permanently smooshed into place.

"Pardon my intrusion, I can see you're quite busy," he said, bowing quickly and taking a step back.

"Oh, not at all. What's up?"

"I've come to inform you that my mission was a success," he said. Sarah drew her brow.

"Mission?" she repeated. Baldur nodded then clicked his boots together as he stood to attention.

"Yes. My quest to locate your companions, the dwarf, the knight and the beast," he explained, and Sarah's eyes widened.

"What? You mean you found them already?" she asked. Again Baldur nodded, keeping his grin humble to mask the pride he took in being able to make his queen so happy.

"Of course. It was not hard. Sir Didymus is a registered knight after all, indeed stationed at the Bog of Eternal Stench. Once I found him, the others were easy." Sarah nodded. Yes, that made sense. She'd simply never thought it would be so quick.

"That's great! What did they say? Did you tell them I wanted to see them?" she asked, growing in excitement.

"Indeed, I informed them that the queen has requested an audience."

"Really? Can they come? Do you know when?" She was getting a little ahead of herself, forgetting to ask a few of the more obvious questions. Baldur looked at her strangely for a moment.

"Of course. No subject may refuse the summons of the queen. I have them awaiting you as we speak." And then Sarah's expression became a gape.

"Wait you mean right now? They're here?" she asked. Baldur nodded.

"You did say you wished to see them posthaste. With His Majesty away I thought your schedule might be open and saw no reason to postpone. Was I wrong to presume?" Baldur was speaking clearly but Sarah was having slight difficulty processing. She was still hung up on the fact that Baldur had found them, let alone that they were actually here! What should she do? Where were they now? Was there anything to prepare?!

"No. No, no I'm glad you brought them here. Thank you so much, Baldur. You're the best!" She started bouncing with glee and surprised him by bending down and hugging him tightly. He went rigid on reflex and coughed a little, having to turn his face away to hide his blush when she finally let go. "So where are they? Have they been waiting long?" she asked. Baldur cleared his throat.

"I have them gathered in the grand hall right now, though I can send them upstairs if you'd prefer." He watched as she clasped her hands together and jittered. She was thinking a million different things at once and fought hard to keep the grin from engulfing her entire face.

"Okay. Okay. Send them to the seventh terrace. You know, the one with all the chimes?" she asked. Yes, she said she wouldn't go outside, but the terrace was technically still part of the castle. It was just such a nice day out, she didn't want them to feel stifled in one of those stuffy parlors. There was a nice view of the grounds from up there too. They would probably like that.

"I do know, My Lady. I will have them sent there to greet you immediately."

"Okay. Great," she said and turned around to face her cleaning crew. "Guys? I have to go for a little bit. Keep up the good work and I'll be back to check on you okay?" The goblins paused and looked up to her, then smiled cheerfully.

"Of course Majesty! We'll have it spick n' span for ya, no worries!" She smiled and turned to leave, scuttling across the wet floor and then skidding to a dramatic stop in the doorway.

"Oh! Make sure you're extra careful with those curtains when they get back from town too, okay?" she called out.

"Okay!"

She gave them one last smile and was no sooner out the door.

* * *

Sarah rushed across the castle like her life depended on it. She was excited and nervous and had no idea what she was doing. How long had it been? 5, 6 weeks? More? She didn't know. Were they at all worried about her all this time? Did they know what happened? Were they as excited to see her as she was them?!

She slowed to a walk and got ahold of herself, suddenly remembering the disturbing truth Jareth had revealed to her and the questions she needed answered. She'd forgotten about it until now...

She heard chatter from up ahead and suddenly her ambivalence was gone. She knew that voice. It was Hoggle. They were already waiting for her. Was this actually happening? Why was she having such a hard time believing it? She walked a little faster, focusing her eyes and ears on the door up ahead.

Before she knew it, she was reaching out to the door frame and quickly pulled herself through the archway. She was breathing heavier than she realized when she stopped. Her eyes were wide and her posture tense, both hands outstretched to grip the frame of the door.

"Do you have any idea what this is about?"

"Why no I say. I cannot think of any reason why the queen would want to see us three. It's rather strange, wouldn't you agree?"

"S-Sarah."

"Yes, Ludo is right, the only connection we have is Sarah. Oh, do you think this has something to do with her?"

"Dunno. She's been missin' for quite a while though. I hope nothin's happened to her."

"Sarah-"

"Yes, we all miss her Ludo. Perhaps we should ask the king?"

"Like he would actually help us."

"No. S-Sarah there!"

"Good gods man, there's no reason to push!"

Sarah just stood there as she watched them. She didn't know why, she was just so happy she froze. Hoggle and Didymus had their backs to her, but Ludo saw her right away. She couldn't have smiled any bigger if she wanted to. She watched him struggle to tell the others she was there and stifled a laugh when he started pushing past them. They turned around with scowls on their faces, expressions that did complete 180's when they realized what Ludo was going on about.

"S-Sarah?"

"Um. Hey guys."

* * *

"My Lady, is that really you? But how-"

Unable to contain herself any longer, Sarah found herself actually leaping into Ludo's arms as she hugged him. He lifted her up and set her back down but she wasn't quite ready to let go. Glancing to the side, she reached out for the puzzled knight next.

"I've missed you guys so much!" She actually fell to her knees as she wrapped Hoggle and Didymus in both arms and squeezed them tight. They both just kind of stood there, baffled to say the least.

"Sarah back!" Ludo cheered behind them, his tail wagging with joy. Sarah was too caught up to realize their apprehension, her smile unwavering when Hoggle pulled away to look her in the eye.

"Sarah? It really is you, ain't it?" he asked and she nodded.

"Uh-huh. It really is."

"But, Sarah where have you been? We were summoned here by the queen!" She pulled back and held them at the shoulder. Both of them looked genuinely perplexed. She started laughing then. Apparently Baldur had left out a few key details when summoning them.

"I know. I guess Baldur forgot to tell you. I...kind of am the queen," she said, biting her tongue as she waited for their reaction. Of course, true to character, Hoggle was the first to take a step back.

"Queen? What are you talkin' about, queen?" he asked, with clear apprehension. Sir Didymus looked at Sarah, to Hoggle and back again.

"Sarah queen!"

Sarah glanced back and stood, smiling at Ludo and all his excitement.

"Yup, that's right."

"But- Sarah how? This does not make any sense. Last we spoke I did not believe you had any intention of becoming our queen," Didymus said, tilting his head to one side as he struggled to understand. Hoggle on the other hand was having a much more difficult time. He'd crossed his arms and furrowed his brow. He looked upset. Well, she could have guessed as much.

"I know. A lot...A lot's happened since then. I wanted to tell you. I wanted to find you the moment I got here but I wasn't sure. I wasn't able to," she said.

"So, all this talk we been hearin', it's all about you?" Hoggle asked.

"What talk?"

"That the king has taken a marvelous new bride and that her kindness and beauty is unmatched in all eight kingdoms," Didymus said, with an exaggerated tone. "Her name is Sarah and she...is a mortal." Sarah cocked a brow then, waiting for the pieces to fall into place.

"And you guys didn't think it convenient for there to be two Sarah's from the Aboveground with connections to Jareth?" she asked. Sir Didymus furrowed his brow deeply. Meanwhile Hoggle turned away.

"I told you it was odd, didn't I?!" he grumbled, waving Didymus and his confusion off as he turned his back to them.

"Well yes, you did say. I am sorry Sarah, we just never would have considered-"

"It's okay. Neither did I." He looked so upset that they hadn't realized it was her. It was surreal being with them again, here, but they hadn't changed in the slightest. It put her heart at ease. She was...so relieved to be with them again.

"Why did you come back? Why didn't you tell us you were fixin' to marry Jareth? We didn't think you even remembered him. You never brought him up once and now you're married?!" Sarah blinked at Hoggle's question. He was peering back at her from over his shoulder. She frowned, not quite sure what to say.

"I...it's complicated. We have a lot to talk about-"

"We were worried you know!" he interrupted, turning around and pointing a scolding finger at her. "We thought somethin' terrible happened to ya. We went back to see ya like you said and you were just gone. And then the portal closed! We thought you didn't need us anymore, you didn't want to be our friend. And after we gave ya those flowers too. _Bah_." He threw his hands up in the air and grumbled as he turned away again. Oh yeah, he was pouting big time. But, instead of feeling upset, receiving such a reaction from him only made her more relieved.

"Sarah...no friend?"

"Of course I'm still your friend Ludo." She turned around and grasped his arm to reassure him, then looked back to Hoggle. "And of course I need you. I know you were worried. I was worried too."

"Then why'd you wait so long to tell us?"

She frowned then. There was so much to tell them. As she thought it all over, suddenly the story seemed...complicated.

"B-because...I...didn't know how Jareth would feel about it. I wanted to make sure you guys would be safe," she said, which was true. Didymus furrowed his brow and wiggled his whiskers.

"His Majesty? For what reason would His Majesty take issue with our acquaintance?" he asked. Sarah opened her mouth but her response was delayed.

"Yeah...about that," she said, gesturing them towards a table. "Why don't we all have a seat. I'll order us some lunch too."

Lunch arrived, though Sarah didn't have much of an appetite. She was too busy talking. She explained what happened the night of her birthday. Well, the less upsetting version and did her best to recount her time in the Underground since. She told them about the ball and the wedding and how she was considered a "conquest". She left out...a lot. Probably everything that mattered. However, those were details she'd rather not rehash and besides, it would only make them feel guilty for being unaware.

To her surprise they understood the situation almost immediately. At least Sir Didymus did, having been more closely acquainted with fae culture than the other two. Hoggle wasn't too happy when he realized what had happened and had more than enough to say on the matter. It made her smile, knowing that, despite whatever secrets they had, they still cared about her wellbeing. Ludo ate his food as quietly as a beast like him could, paying close attention to all that they were saying.

"Hm...it would seem you've had quite the adventure without us. I am so very sorry Lady Sarah. That all must have been very confusing," Didymus said, stroking his whiskers as he pondered. Hoggle stabbed at his food. He wouldn't admit it, but Sarah could tell he wasn't used to such _fancy_ dining.

"Yeah, if we'da known we'd have come and helped you, you know?" he said, shaking his head and sighing. Sarah watched him, her eyes steadily falling.

"...Would you have?" she asked. It was a question they didn't expect. "I thought maybe you would be happy about this...that you would want me to be queen."

"Oh but we are, and we do!" Didymus exclaimed. Sarah peered back up. "There is no one more worthy of the title than you. I am proud to call you my queen, I would have it no other way." He spoke with conviction, as if the scenario was something he had long since accepted.

"Yeah...we all feel that way, right Ludo?" Hoggle said. Sarah looked from him to Ludo who then nodded with a wide smile

"Yeah," he said, so cheerfully. She tried, but couldn't manage to return Ludo's smile. She was still uncertain. Hoggle saw this and spoke up.

"But, it doesn't matter if it's not what you want. We may be your subjects now, but we're still your friends." Her eyes flickered over and then fell low.

"...That's another thing," she mumbled.

"What is my dear?" She smiled at Didymus' term of endearment, but it didn't make her feel any better. It was probably about time to get this out of the way...

"Jareth told me...about back then. He said you guys were working for him all along, that you never actually rebelled against him. Is that true?" she asked. She looked up and watched as they exchanged awkward glances. Apparently, they weren't expecting her to know that.

"Well...I guess so." Hoggle stared down into his lap as he spoke and knotted his hands. He seemed awful guilty all of the sudden. She knew how much lying bothered him. She supposed that was why she felt so disappointed just then. However, he was the only one to show such a reaction. Didymus looked calm, unaffected even.

"Can you tell me then? I want to hear it from you," she asked. Hoggle continued to squirm.

"Alright..." He was looking for the words, but upon sensing his hesitation, Didymus took the lead.

"Well...For me it was a usual day. I was standing guard at the bridge like I do on any other and His Majesty came to inform me that a human woman would soon pass through and that if I thought her cause worthy I should follow her." Sarah's brow twitched. For some reason...she had expected something different.

"Really?" she asked.

"Yes. Later that day you, Hoggle and dear Ludo here showed up at my door. I judged your quest to be valiant and so took it upon myself to guide and guard you to the very end," he explained, which also explained why he showed no guilt in keeping it from her. Jareth's command was so vague, he probably never thought twice about it. She tried to think back, to what Jareth had said the day previous. He'd made things so complicated right from the start... "Sir Ludo? Did His Majesty happen upon you as well?" he asked. Sarah peered up, but Ludo only shook his head no. Hm, it didn't seem like a coincidence that they crossed paths that day. Maybe Ludo was more preoccupied with the guards who'd hung him upside down.

"What about you Hoggle?" Sarah asked. He slouched a little in his seat, folding his arms and grumbling to himself. He was getting defensive, though he knew he couldn't hide anything from her.

"Hm...you know I was workin for him," he said, shrugging and glancing to the side. Sarah rose a brow.

"Yeah, but you betrayed him to help me. Was that a lie?" she asked.

"It was...kind of."

"Kind of?"

He sighed roughly and shifted in his seat.

"I don't know...I was confused," he said, huffing and waving a hand through the air. "I was out sprayin the fairies and he came and said how some human girl named Sarah was coming and that it was my job to make sure she got to the castle by any means necessary." Recalling his past with the king made him ornery and he made no attempt to hide it. Sarah however, ignored his attitude and pondered intently.

"...But...I'm confused."

"He said that once you showed up that he would say a whole bunch of things but I wasn't supposed to listen to any of it. Even if he told me to lead you astray, I was still s'posed to take you to the center," he explained, which only added to Sarah's quandary. "I was really confused. He started threatenin' me with the Bog and the cleaners and then he told me to give you that peach. I didn't know what I was supposed to do...in the end I just...did what I thought was right. I did what I was told to do, get you to the castle by whatever means necessary."

Sarah stared at the table as she thought. This all seemed rather elaborate, too elaborate. Yes, maybe he was bored, maybe he did want to impress her in whatever twisted way he thought to win her fancy, maybe it was all just a show for her sake. But still, to go to such lengths? It didn't seem logical. It felt like there was still a piece missing...maybe she was just being paranoid.

"Hm...and you guys kept it from me...for all these years?"

"We didn't mean to, I assure you, milady!" Didymus spoke up first, clasping his hands together for emphasis. "We simply did not think it of any consequence. The king has his games, it is not our business to question it. Confusion and paradox, these things are just another part of this place. We are still true to you, you must believe us."

"I do...I do believe you," she said, though not very convincingly. "I was just...worried is all."

"Oh, but now we can rejoice!" Didymus exclaimed. Sarah peered up, not expecting his renewed joy. "The Lady Sarah is queen, she has the world at her feet and we may all be together once more!" He shot his fist up into the air and Ludo cheered beside him. Her smile was small, but still genuine. She spied on Hoggle from the corner of her eye. He was looking away and he looked...disappointed.

"Yeah...we can," she said.

There was a warmth in her voice that drew his attention, and when he realized she'd seen right through him he blanched for just a moment. She smiled again and his expression relaxed. It was a moment that conveyed comfort and assurance to both of them. She was with Jareth yes, but they were still together in this world. They were still the same. They still had each other.

* * *

"So...How would you feel about being re-stationed?"

Lunch took longer than anticipated. Actually, it was more like dinner time now. Catching up had been one thing but regardless, talking with them came so naturally. She could spend hours and hours with them and be perfectly content. However it was getting dark now and she figured they had their own homes to get back to.

"Hm? Whom?" Didymus asked. They were walking towards the castle. Didymus mentioned he had been stationed here once upon a time, but the others had never been. She might as well show them around on the way out.

"All of you. Sir Didymus, I would be honored to have you as a member of my personal guard."

"Oh my, My Lady the honor would be mine."

"I'm sure I have the authority to do that, right? And Hoggle, I can probably get you a position as a royal gardener. Ludo can be your helper. Wouldn't that be great? We could see each other every day!"

"I would wish for nothing more."

"Are you sure though Sarah? You said you were worried about His Majesty." She turned and glanced back at Hoggle. He was never one to get his hopes up, though she could tell he was restraining his eagerness at the prospect.

"Oh..Um...I'm sure it will be fine? I'll ask him about it but...I don't think there will be a problem," she said, more to convince herself than them. It shouldn't be a problem...right? Maybe she'll earn some brownie points for spiffing up his throne. Hm, speaking of that, she should probably check up on them. It was getting kind of late though...She'd do it tomorrow.

"Oh, well then count us in."

She looked to Hoggle with a smile. He was finally starting to feel comfortable with the whole _situation_. It made her happy to hear some cheer in his voice.

"That way you'll be able to meet my friend Mariella too. She's my lady-in-waiting -a fae actually. I've told her all about you. I think you're going to get along great."

She smiled like an idiot as she bid them adieu. It'd been a long time since she felt like this, like she didn't have a care in the world.

She sent a detail to escort them home, starting to get a feel for these royal perks of hers. She hoped to see them again soon, hoped that this was her life finally starting to work itself out. She wanted to write to Marie, she wanted to tell Roldan about the great day she had. She wanted Jareth to come home. She wanted him to know...how happy she was.

* * *

"Holy crap guys. You really out-did yourselves. This place looks great!"

Sarah had to take a step back as she admired the renovated throne room. It was like a totally different place. Every nook n' cranny had been scrubbed clean, the floors deftly polished, the chandeliers had fresh candles and there wasn't a cobweb in sight. There had been poles jutting from the walls and she'd wondered what they were for; now banners hung from them, black with gold embroidery, the sigil of the Goblin Kingdom prominently displayed from one side of the room to the other. She was surprised by the level of decor. She hadn't asked for that, but was more than impressed with the goblins' intuition. She saw the curtains she'd asked for, heavy and falling long to the floor. They too were black and shimmered like crushed velvet.

"Really? You likes it Majesty?" one of the goblins asked. Sarah turned and beamed down at him with a smile.

"Like it? I love it. I'm sure this will make the king very happy," she said, laughing softly at the way each of their expressions lit up with excitement. They started chattering amongst themselves as Sarah inspected the room closer. All this fabric looked very expensive. She hoped they'd remembered to inform the shopkeeper to send the bill to the castle. She meandered over to the throne and then stopped. "Wait. Did you reupholster the throne too?" she asked, kneeling down and waving a hand across the new leather. All she expected was for it to be dusted, but this...this was some serious remodeling.

The goblins stood a little taller behind her, taking such pride in the queen's reaction.

"Uh-huh. Do you like it? Is it comfy?"

Sarah drew back slightly. They were watching her expectantly. She didn't want to disappoint them but...was it okay for her to sit in Jareth's throne?

"Go on. Sit! Sit!" they urged.

They gathered around her as she did just that. It was a little awkward. To be honest she didn't much like it. There were about twenty goblins total, all of them crowded into the pit before the throne, staring up at her with such eagerness. She shifted around a bit and tried not to make a big deal out of the image such a scene depicted.

"Well? Will the king like it?" they asked. Ignoring her own awkwardness, she glanced down at them and smiled. They were just so genuine.

"Yes. It is very comfortable. I'm sure the king will be very pleased with all your effort," she said, wanting to get up and out of that chair as soon as possible. She took a step back from it and stood amongst them instead.

"Are you pleased, Queen-lady Sarah?"

She looked down and she realized that while Jareth's approval meant a great deal to them, her approval meant a great deal more. They had such deep gazes, as if their very lives depended on her answer. She wasn't fully prepared to react to such a thing.

"I am...beyond pleased. I am positively ecstatic." Once again their faces lit up in a way that humbled her. To her this was just some long needed spring cleaning, a way to kill time and give them all something to do. However it was apparent the task had meant so much more to them. It was perhaps the first time a royal had given them any real sense of responsibility, a standard to live up to. It showed faith, it showed that the Queen of Goblins had actually acknowledged them. There could not be an honor any greater.

"Woohoo! We did it! Hear that? The queen's ex-tatic!" They all started to cheer and celebrate, though Sarah could see that getting out of hand fast.

"You remember the pledge you made right?" she asked and they all fell silent. "You made a promise to keep this place looking as great as it does right now. I'm going to hold you to that promise. That means no more messes or fooling around. If you want to play you'll have to go somewhere else. Got it?" Their expressions became very serious and they each nodded in tandem.

"Of course. We would never let the queen down," one said, to which they all agreed. Sarah placed her hands on her hips and cracked a smirk.

"Alright then. When the king asks I'll be sure to give him each of your names so you can be recognized for your efforts," she said, which to them was tantamount to Christmas in July. One of them gasped, many of them gaped, a few of them stepped forward and took a knee.

"We thanks you Majesty. We is honored and in your debt," they said.

"Then continue to show me how capable your are and your debt shall be paid," she said, bending down and urging them to stand. "Thank you all for your hard work. I will not forget it. Now, you're all dismissed!"

She clapped her hands together and watched as they suddenly took off. They were bounding, like it was a race, chattering with excitement.

"Hear that? She won't forget us!"

"I'm gonna go do more cleanin!"

"Yeah me too!"

"I'll help! I'll help!"

She smiled as she watched them all leave. They were so fired up, she hadn't expected it at all. She was a little dazed by it actually, and therefore didn't notice the one goblin who'd stayed behind.

"Uh...Majesty?"

Sarah glanced down, blinking in surprise. She recognized this goblin. She was a courier...Slem, was her name?

"Oh, hey. Sorry I didn't see you there," she said. Slem was very tiny, maybe only about a foot tall. Sarah was surprised she wasn't crushed just now. Most of those goblins were the size of dwarves. "What's up?"

"Another letter has arrived, Majesty," she said, lowering her eyes as she handed Sarah an envelope. Being a courier, Slem was one of the few goblins allowed in the upper levels. She was privileged with a modicum of education so her speech was much better than most regular citizens. Sarah had met her a couple of times, usually while she was delivering things to Roldan during their lessons. Today however, she was delivering a letter from Marie.

"Thank you," Sarah said, accepting the letter and turning away as Slem bowed and then scurried out of the room. Like the waiter goblins, Slem initially was very unaccustomed to Sarah's acknowledgment of her. While she seemed to accept it more readily than others, Sarah didn't want to push it and so remained aloof for her own comfort.

Once she was gone however Sarah turned back around. She was suddenly very excited and scampered her way to the library.

She opened the envelop as she walked and nearly stumbled when something slipped from between the pages and fell to the floor. She reached down and picked it up carefully, recognizing its shape.

_Dearest Sarah,_

_I was so glad to hear from you! Corresponding to one another is really quite fun isn't it? To my ease, it would seem that my father is indeed not on his deathbed, however he is still ill. Our family's physician cannot seem to decipher the cause and it would appear that is the reason for mother's panic. I have faith however, he is a resilient man._

_Oh goodness, a secret cabin in the forest? Oh how romantic! I cannot wait to hear all about it when I return. I am so sorry you feel lonesome. I knew my leaving was ill-timed. I have no doubt a great number of events have taken place since my departure. It was your wedding after all. I only hope it isn't something I should worry about -as you have said it is not. As always, it is my sincerest wish to serve as your confidant. Though I agree, some things should not be put in writing._

_I look forward to meeting your companions as well. I am sure Captain Baldur is quite capable of fulfilling the task. Your concern for my family is more than enough and they are greatly humbled by your personal interest._

_I only plan to stay for another day or two. If you need (or wish) for me to return sooner, please do not hesitate. I must also thank you. I was not too keen on this journey, however I have come to rejoice in seeing my family again. As you wished, I've been taking all sorts of photographs. Is that how you spell it? I've included one here. It is a picture of my family's home. I hope you like it._

_With love, Mariella_

Sarah smirked as she finished reading, then folded the paper and slid it back into the envelope as she flipped over the polaroid she'd picked up from the floor. It was a house alright. Actually, it looked more like a Roman temple. It was sitting on top of a hill, one that turned to a stark cliff edge overlooking a beach. The photographer, most likely Marie, was standing in the tide, looking up at the island. The sun was so bright it left a glare across the image, but still Sarah was enamored by how beautiful it was. It looked so warm and ancient. The colors were so vivid and contrasted greatly with the pure white sand. She wondered if it would be okay to go there one day. She'd never been on vacation, let alone to a place like that.

She'd begun walking without realizing, still heading towards the library where she could send her response.

When she knew she was close she stopped and looked up.

"Oh. Hey."

She smiled as she saw Roldan exiting the library. He on the other hand paused and noticeably flinched. His back had been to her as he closed the door. When he turned around, she was confused by his look of surprise. He just stood there for a moment and stared at her.

"...What are you doing here?" he asked, without preamble. He looked perplexed, alarmed even. She wondered if she'd caught him doing something indecent.

"Um...I got another letter from Marie. I was going to send one back," she explained, wondering why he looked so apprehensive. Roldan furrowed his brow and peered around suspiciously, and she followed his gaze. Where they being watched or something?

"No, I mean what are you doing in the castle?" he corrected, though to her the answer was the same. She stared at him confusedly, their expressions matching.

"Um, I live here?" she said, a sarcastic upturn in her voice. Roldan's scowl only intensified and he stepped towards her away from the door.

"Is Jareth back?" he asked and she too scowled harder.

"Not that I know of," she responded. He held her gaze for a moment, as if he didn't believe her, and then he huffed, glaring away and shaking his head. Sarah wasn't quite sure what his problem was and merely stood there as she watched him. He paused and then his brow rose, and he looked back to her as some terrible realization dawned on him.

"Wait...are you telling me you've been here this whole time?" he asked.

"Uh...yeah?"

He sneered a little and glared, and she wondered why he became so irritated all of the sudden. Was there some place she was supposed to be? He growled again and clawed a hand through his hair.

"Goddamn it Jareth..." He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. What a way to ruin his day. He really wasn't expecting her to sneak up on him like that.

"What? Is something going on?" she asked. Subduing his annoyance, Roldan shook his head and looked back to her.

"No...though I must apologize-"

"For what?"

She watched as he folded his arms over his chest and looked to the side, cocking an exasperated brow and shrugging.

"I didn't realize you were still here. I thought you'd left along with Jareth," he said. Sarah pursed her lips. He seemed awful put out over something so irrelevant.

"Oh. Well, it's no big deal-"

"No...I am sorry. If I had known I would have seen to you. I wouldn't have-"

"You don't need to babysit me," she interrupted. Roldan cut himself off and glanced up to her. "I've been keeping busy just fine. I'm sure you have work to do anyway," she continued. Roldan wasn't sure what to say. Her posture was candid, her tone dismissive. It was obvious she didn't realize how big of a social faux pas this really was -though he wasn't sure if it was wise to take advantage of such ignorance. "Do you know when he's coming back?" Sarah asked.

"Knowing him? Could be tomorrow. Could be three months from now," he said, watching as Sarah's gaze widened in horror.

"You're kidding," she said, deadpanned. Roldan shrugged.

"Not really. Another reason why I thought you'd gone with him."

"Was I supposed to?" she asked. The night Jareth had left, she hadn't really inquired too much into where he was going. It was awkward enough as it was. He showed her how to melt the wax...how to seal and send her letter...things they both knew she already knew how to do...really it was just an excuse to be close to him, to be normal with him. She wasn't able to express herself properly. Maybe she should have tried a little harder.

Roldan glanced down and rose another brow, trying not to recall Jareth's strange behavior the other day.

"It was not mandatory, no. I simply thought it would be a good opportunity to introduce you to the kingdom under your new title. Apparently Jareth felt differently." Sarah scrunched her brow.

"He told me he had business to deal with in the south. What's going on down there?" she asked. Now Roldan's brow rose. She looked sad and it irked him. He couldn't help but wonder what the fuck was going on with them now.

"You mean you didn't ask him?" he asked. Sarah's eyes shot down and she pursed her lips. It might seem odd in retrospect, but no...she didn't.

* * *

That afternoon...she wasn't sure what she'd wanted, or rather how to do it. He showed her how to send the letter. He was standing so close to her. The sleeve of his coat had brushed up against her arm and she actually fought back a tremble. The whole time she was thinking of what would happen next, what she would say when they had no more pretense. She'd left him hanging after his explanation, and he himself had told her it would be better not to answer, but now it seemed she was the one caught on the edge. She wasn't sure what to say but she knew she wouldn't be able to formulate it even if she wanted to. He'd reached over and tapped the letter against the crystal. He was slightly lower, his face closer to hers. She was staring at him fiercely but he couldn't have been more oblivious to it. Once the letter disappeared he paused. He paused and with his profile so close to hers she could see he was just as uncertain as she. He was just as unprepared. He frowned and straightened up, though Sarah's gaze had already fallen to the floor. He was about to step away from her. It was like he was going to leave already and she...

She couldn't say it. She just couldn't. She was biting her lip so hard there was surely a hole in it. She just felt so bad. So pent up. Why did he have to be so damaged? So charming and difficult? It was stupid. This whole situation. It was all just...wasted.

He'd turned towards her to say something but impulse won and she beat him to it.

"Jareth..."

She was wincing, her fists tight at her sides. Jareth didn't say anything. She was waiting for him to say something but now it seemed he wouldn't. She turned towards him fractionally. She didn't have the strength to look him in the eye but...

She wanted to be near him. Like before all she wanted was to reassure him, to let him know how bad she felt and how much she regretted it. He was right, she didn't like the reasons he gave her, she didn't like his one-sided paradox definition of love, and yet she respected it. She acknowledged it. She might not always be able to tell when he was lying, but she always knew when he was being sincere. She knew he was being honest and the truth, as twisted as it might be, was that they wanted the same thing. They wanted him to be better. Only...in that moment all she wanted, all she could even think of, was_ him_. _She wanted him_. Just as he was.

"I'm sorry."

She turned a little more and pressed herself against him. She had her arms raised to her chest, like she was shielding herself. She felt ashamed, ashamed that she couldn't look him in the eye. Why were they so messed up? Why did it have to be this hard? Neither of them wanted it to be. After what happened the night of their wedding she'd decided it wouldn't be. She'd decided to make things easy. She wanted to love him without guilt. So she would. At least, she would try.

She clenched her eyes closed and wrapped her arms around him. Her body was tense but she didn't care. She just stood there, hoping that somehow what she couldn't say would simply pass unto him. He stood still for a moment and then he realized she was trembling. He rose his arms, wrapped them around her and held her. As if there was nothing else he'd ever wanted more.

* * *

Roldan's stare on her was condescending but Sarah ignored it. Instead she rolled her eyes away and teetered back on her heels.

"No...he was pretty vague about it," she said. After she'd had gotten her shit together, they'd just kind of _hung out_. The hours passed much too quickly and suddenly she was bidding him farewell. It was...a confusing day. Small talk was small talk, and while they had conversed not much was really being said. Truth be told, any words at all felt like a disturbance. She hoped it wouldn't be that way for long, that things would go back to normal once he returned. She also wondered what normal even was, what it meant to them, and why it was something she was now longing for. Maybe that was why she let him go, why he left her behind in the first place.

"Well, it's no secret. He went to the Athom district-" Roldan said, oblivious to her daydreaming.

"Athom? You mean like the Athom sea?" she asked, forcing her recollections away. Roldan narrowed his eyes on the new vigor in her expression. It seemed forced.

"Yes...Though I'd rather call it a lake," he said.

"I see...what's going on down there?"

For a moment he thought about calling her out on the transparency of her facade, but quickly realized he didn't care enough about her problems to do so.

"We're building a canal," he said, and her expression perked up even further.

"Huh? You are?"

"Yes_ we _are. That now includes _you_ as well...for the past several years or so; the construction of which I have been overseeing personally these last few months as it nears completion," he explained which, surprisingly, gained a great deal of Sarah's interest.

"Really? What for? Where does it go?" she asked. Sensing this was going to be more of a conversation than the hello/goodbye he'd hoped for, Roldan leaned back against the door and refolded his arms.

"Well, with the accordance of Yore, we've established merchant check-points along both the east and west Athom rivers and have dug an entirely new channel connecting the East Athom river with the Rhil river in the north."

"Whoa really? But that would..."

"Create one uniform, not to mention international,passage from the Calbnah to Sehyeen oceans and effectively cut the entire continent of Orpia in two? Yes." Such a statement, she would assume, was meant to be one of pride and significance. However, from Roldan's posture and dismissive glance alone it seemed it was one more of annoyance.

"That's...that's a pretty big deal isn't it?" Sarah asked. She'd learned all about the Athom rivers during _geography week_ and the part they played in the GK economy. The fact that they were being connected from one ocean to another would have revolutionary ramifications on all manner of industry...why was she only hearing of this now?

"From a certain perspective yes," Roldan said, sighing a bit as he made himself more comfortable against the door. "It will allow inland tradesmen access to major gulf ports like Golden and Omni without use of magic. As the Goblin kingdom only has one domestic port, this will open up entirely new trading opportunities with other nations and, hopefully, create a significant increase in our import/export revenue." He spoke as if it was a speech he'd recited a hundred times before and was, quite frankly, getting tired in doing so. She ignored his vague grumpiness however and inquired further.

"I see. I don't know much about that stuff, but it seems important. For everyone."

"Of course. Especially when you add in our tariff."

"Tariff?"

Roldan bit his tongue then. He'd just plain set her up for that one. Since when were matters like this any of a woman's business?

"Yes. Taxes. You didn't think we would allow foreign tradesmen use of such a commercial asset for free did you?" he asked and Sarah just kind of blinked. "Truth be told, our kingdom does not have much to gain in the way of exports. Most of the land is barren, and things like timber or minerals are abundant in equity across Orpia. Registered merchants of Yore and the Goblin Kingdoms exempt, we stand to gain a great deal from check-point tolls alone and at the least cost to our customers. Imagine, citizens of Meyhaven, Erastor or the Ironmey no longer having to suffer the journey around all of southern Orpia, or Jeju and the Shadowlands in the north, passing through one international boundary after another, paying a different, not to mention gross, regulated fee and undergoing redundant and tedious inspections for each nation's peace of mind. This system will cut that time and wasted effort in half. Since all tolls will be paid directly to the Goblin Kingdom, we can afford to lower them significantly and still maintain a high profit margin. Theoretically, it should benefit each nation while giving us nothing but gain."

"Wow," Sarah said, not really qualified to respond anything more sophisticated than that. "That sounds awesome. And definitely something I think I should have heard about before."

"It's not something you would normally concern yourself with," he said, shrugging dismissively. "Jareth went to oversee this month's report, an errand usually left to me. To be honest, I'm surprised he volunteered. Usually, the King's appearance is reserved for the opening."

"So why did he go?"

"Why indeed?"

He held Sarah's gaze then and a moment of knowing passed between them. Sarah's eyes darted away and in response Roldan glanced to the side with a smile. He was no longer sure if he found the antics between those two amusing or exasperating. Maybe he was starting to confuse the two.

"He told me he would only be a couple days...do you really think it will be longer than that?" she asked, and he brought his gaze back to find her looking pitiful. Well, now this was different.

"Are you missing him that much?" he asked, teasingly. His grin grew a little when her eyes widened in horror and she glared away intensely.

"Not really. I've just been all alone without Mariella around..."

"I thought you were keeping yourself busy?" he quirked, mocking her further. He could see her body tense as she fought back some snarky comment and he had to applaud her for such uncharacteristic restraint.

"Not busy enough it seems," she grumbled. His attention drifted away from her then, perhaps caught up in the fact that they hadn't yet begun arguing... "Are you?"

He blinked back to her, unsure of what she meant.

"Am I what?"

"Busy," she clarified. She was staring at him plainly, though for some reason it unnerved him. It was like he was about to step into a trap. He debated if it was even worth treading carefully.

"Not particularly. Why?" he asked. Sarah sensed a twinge of defense in him, the kind that surfaced when ever she tried to give him an order.

"I don't know...I was thinking that we could have dinner or something," she said, not sure why those words sounded so dirty as she said them. She furrowed her brow a little as she pondered it. Roldan drew back in kind.

"Dinner?" he repeated, as if never before hearing something so ludicrous. Discarding her foible, Sarah looked back to him.

"Yeah. I mean, now that we know we're both here...might as well? I always find eating alone to be kind of pitiful anyway..." This was awkward. All she was trying to do was avoid solitude and it seemed like something else all together. Whatever it was, Roldan seemed to be sensing it as well and straightened up from against the wall.

"It is pitiful," he said, folding his arms across his chest and looking at her very seriously. "However, even still, I do not think it would be entirely appropriate."

It was like he was scolding her...but not really. She wasn't really sure what he was talking about, nor why he'd become so serious all of the sudden. She was just trying to be friendly. What was the big deal? That's when she remembered something Mariella had once said, something she'd goofed on in the past as well...

She rose her hands between them and started waving them frantically.

"Oh! No. Nonono, that's not what I meant," she said, their awkward misunderstanding widening her eyes with panic. Roldan scrunched his brow. "I meant food. Just food. In the dining hall. Like usual," she clarified, like an imbecile, and braced for his reaction. She'd forgotten the suggestive meaning that phrase could have. Fuck. What was she even doing? But was he really that obtuse? He must have known what she really meant right? God. They were the only two left in the castle. Of course he would interpret it like that-

"I know what you meant," he said, interrupting her furious thought process. She peered up to him, skeptical of his completely neutral expression.

"Yeah?" she asked. Roldan quirked her a brow.

"Please. As if I have time for such..." and then he shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose in apparent frustration. "I wanted to see if you would realize what you were about to do and then perhaps handle it with the tiniest modicum of grace. You do realize I do not have the authority to refuse any of your requests?_ Even that._ You really aren't learning any of our social nuances, are you?" he asked, and she realized his frustration was out of disappointment. Oh. He was testing her? Now she felt like an even bigger idiot. Damn it Jareth. She blamed him for putting stupid thoughts in her head. Roldan turned away from her still shaking his head. She thought he was just going to walk away, so she too began to turn. Then he sighed heavily.

"Well? Come on."

"What?"

Sarah looked up to find him staring back at her impatiently.

"You said you wanted to eat yes? It is my job to see to your needs while Jareth is away. That includes the drab irrelevance of keeping you company. Besides, he would have my head if he found out I'd ignored you a full two days." She stared at him suspiciously, not sure if he was messing with her or not. He saw this discourse clearly and huffed with impatience. "Shall I offer you my hand?" he asked, sarcastically. Sarah scowled and stepped towards him.

"No. That is not necessary," she said, ignoring his gesture. She tried to keep her head high as they began their walk down the corridor.

"The next time you fumble like that, please try to do it with more tact," he said. Sarah tried not to glare.

"Or you could just, ya know, _not_ be an ass?" She shrugged and glowered in his opposite direction. Roldan held his tongue to that, debating whether or not to rile her further by threatening to go to Jareth with her _offer_. In the end he said nothing, perhaps he was amused after all. He peered down to her without her realizing and smiled.

* * *

"So...what do you want?" Roldan asked. Sarah stood kind of dumbly as he pulled out her chair.

"Um...I don't know," she replied, having to actively mask her offense at the _great inconvenience _his tone implied she was being. He stepped away and took his place in the chair across from her.

Man, this was weird. It wasn't usually just the two of them in the dining hall, and she now realized the full value of having Mariella as an ice breaker. It was just like their lessons wasn't it? No...somehow this felt different. Was it the obnoxiously large table? Was it the dim light? Maybe it was because he was no longer her teacher but her subordinate. He was being nicer than usual...more formal even. She'd told him before not to bother, however today it didn't seem so forced.

"Don't say that. I'll be only too happy to order you something deplorable," he said, with warning. Sarah wasn't sure if he was teasing or not. She narrowed her eyes on him.

"Fine. How about steak?" she posed. Roldan leaned back and snapped his fingers.

"See, that wasn't so hard was it?" he asked, rhetorically. Sarah held back a spiteful retort, so wishing to remind him that likewise she could have ordered an Aboveground concoction that he would find equally deplorable. Instead she found herself staring at him. He was smiling again, the type she was sure he was unaware of. It only took a moment for the waiters to come scurrying out, fully prepared to deliver them a three-course meal. "So...what have you been doing these past couple days?"

Sarah blinked, totally surprised by Roldan's question, or rather by how naturally he'd asked it. It was no secret how little he cared about her affairs, and usually any inquiries into her personal life were made for Jareth's sake. It actually took her a moment to respond.

"Um...not much. I did some revamping downstairs-"

"Some what?"

She was about to dig into her salad when the slight asperity of his tone stopped her from taking that first bite.

"Um...I cleaned?" she corrected. His brow was furrowed on her, though now he only looked more suspicious.

"You cleaned?" he repeated, the odd intensity of his stare making her even more uncomfortable. She flickered her eyes away and shoved her fork in her mouth.

"Yeah...some of the goblins and I. We kind of...redecorated the throne room yesterday." And now he looked disconcerted. Sarah kept her eyes averted, anticipating the scolding she was most likely to receive. Hm...maybe she should have run it by someone first.

"Redecorated?" Roldan repeated. Again.

"Yes."

Sarah sat up straight, each bite of her salad more tentative than the last. He was being uncharacteristically quiet. She was a little afraid to look over and glimpse his expression.

"It looks really nice actually...You should stop in and see it some time," she said, precariously sneaking a glance back at him. That was a mistake. His gaze locked onto hers immediately.

"You are aware that is a complete waste of time?" he asked, his expression deadpan. Sarah blanched. Wait, so he wasn't mad?

"Well, at the very least that was my objective. Though I disagree. That place needed a good sprucing."

"Of course it did," he replied, with a light laugh, and shook his head. Oh. So he was flabbergasted? She wasn't expecting that. "That entire level should be gutted and replaced," he continued. "I'm sure whatever you did is _nice _indeed, but I am sorry to say your efforts are in vain. It will not last."

"Oh I think it will. I got them to take a pledge and everything," Sarah said, rather confidently. Roldan rose his brow at her.

"A _pledge_. Really? You realize how little that means to a goblin yes?" he asked, clearly mocking her. Sarah fought back her frown. She imagined it was that kind of thinking that had allowed the lower levels to fall into such disarray in the first place.

"Says who? Maybe a pledge will mean more when it's made with someone who actually respects them," she responded, with just a hint of condescension. Roldan quirked a brow at the hint of challenge in her voice. _Respects them eh?_

"I suppose...we shall have to wait and see," he said, seeming to allow her the victory. In reality however, to which Sarah had a sneaking suspicion, what he was _allowing_ was the chance to make a fool of herself when her predictions eventually proved false. She stared him down, full of skepticism.

"Hm...so you're not mad that I did it without asking?" she asked. Roldan, now pretending to be more interested in his food, slowly brought his gaze back to her questioningly.

"Mad? Regardless of the fact that you do not require permission from anyone side from Jareth to do anything, it is more accurate to say that any changes made to that room do not have enough permanence to warrant any worry from me in the first place," he explained and went back to his meal. Sarah narrowed her eyes. If he were Jareth she would accuse him of fucking with her. However this was Roldan, and he was probably serious.

"Really? So you're not the least bit concerned over my renovations?" she asked, using the sly tone of her voice to earn back his attention. "Maybe I painted the walls pink and hung streamers from the ceiling, replaced all the sigils with profane hand gestures, but still you're not curious? I'm glad to see you're taking this all so nonchalantly," she said, tauntingly. Roldan lowered his fork.

"And I am disappointed to see you discredit yourself so willingly. You should be glad my first instinct was not to immediately evaluate your decision making and much less question it," he countered, secretly reveling in the way she fought back a grumble. She could do nothing to hide her glare however, and that was the only sign of triumph he needed. A moment passed and she still didn't retort. He almost laughed then. Oh dear, it would be cruel to torture the poor girl... "I'm sure it looks perfectly respectable," he said, peering back up to her. "And I'm sure Jareth will be thrilled to find you've taken such initiative when he returns."

"That wasn't-" Sarah's eyes widened and she cut herself short, but from the dark glimmer in Roldan's eye it was clear he knew better. Damn it. She'd just dug her own grave and there was no covering it up. Ugh. He was going to give her such hell for this... "I just...never mind," she stated, glancing down and picking at what was left of her salad, just waiting for another cheeky comment. Thankfully the waiters intervened, setting up the table for the main course. She took full advantage. "So this canal..." she started, hoping for a smooth change of topics. "It's almost done? When is the opening scheduled?"

"Two months from now," Roldan said, working at carving his meal candidly, like her own adolescent quandaries were of absolutely no concern to him. "Technically it should be complete in the coming weeks, but a celebration of this scale takes some preparation."

"I see..." Sarah said, awkwardly glancing down to cut up her own food. This was throwing her off. He wasn't being half the bastard he usually was.

"How is Mariella doing?" he suddenly asked. Sarah looked up. Well, wasn't he just full of surprises today? "You mentioned you were going to write her another letter?" he added, giving her an impatient glance as she continued to gawk at him. She furrowed her brow in response.

"Oh. She's fine. Her dad isn't dying, so that's good..." she said and, apparently satisfied with her response, Roldan looked away again. Sarah took his lead and started eating. "Have...you ever been there? To Masoch?"

"A few times. Jareth likes to venture there every now and again and appreciate the uh..._scenery_," he said, shrugging suggestively and glancing up to give her a rather shifty stare. Sarah scowled.

"...Mhm. Sure he does," she replied, refusing to let him get a rise out of her over this of all topics.

"Though...one might assume that would change given current circumstances."

"One might assume."

She kept her eyes lowered and ate her meal as impassively as possible. If he could put on airs then so could she. This left her unaware however when he looked back up to her, finding the indifference of her tone rather intriguing.

"You're not concerned?" he asked.

"Concerned?"

"That he'll return to such_ habits_ should your circumstances remain less than favorable? Who knows, he could be off galavanting at this very moment." Was he trying to goad her? Hard to say, even for him. Regardless, there was something odd about the way her expression shifted; instead of defensive it became sad. She frowned slightly, her fork lowering to the table slowly.

"...No. No I don't think so," she said, sounding more wayward than she realized. For being as possessive as Jareth was, that didn't necessarily mean he would also be faithful -she'd always been aware of that. After their talk however...that somehow seemed much less likely.

Roldan found himself scowling at how pathetic she now looked.

"_Hmph_, it isn't wise to sound so sure. Don't forget who it is we're talking about," he warned, the minor antagonization successful in winning her attention.

"Because you know him so much better than me?" she asked, not sure if she should bother picking this fight. She looked up to find him shrugging.

"No. I've simply known him longer."

He wasn't quite able to discern her stare on him then. It was like she was staring through him, pondering something intently.

"That's true...a thousand years is a long time to get to know someone isn't it?" she asked, and he realized she wasn't half as antagonized as he was hoping she'd be. "I guess I'll always be at a disadvantage..." She mumbled, though it sounded more rhetorical than inquisitive. He chose not to respond. "...Hey, can I ask you a question?" she added. Roldan rose a brow. "What was he like? When you were younger?"

She'd asked that with her eyes lowered and yet she spoke with the most haunting of smiles. It was a pensive look. Troubled. This time both his brows rose, clearly not anticipating such a question.

"When we were younger?" he repeated. Sarah nodded.

"Yeah, growing up. What was it like?"

Roldan glanced to the side and shifted in his seat. It'd been a long time since he'd had to recall upon those memories.

"Well...Jareth has...always been Jareth," he said, with an awkward shrug. "Only...more or less colorful." He looked back to her though she didn't look nearly satisfied with his answer, and he realized that whatever it was she was hoping to hear would surely leave her even more disappointed. He thought a little harder then. "He was always a bit of a rascal. Quite annoying really. Always getting me in trouble...I am younger than him, but because of my position I was raised with the mentality of overseeing and protecting him. I was also meant to encourage proper behavior. You can imagine that as children...we didn't get along very well." He found himself smiling at the memories, and then something more irksome came forth. "On the other hand, back then he and Davion were near inseparable."

"What, really?" Sarah asked, and this time he understood her surprise. It didn't take more than five minutes with the two to realize the Jareth and Davion now were much different than the ones back then.

"Yes. Thick as thieves they were. It seemed as if they felt all they had was each other, a sentiment I found a tad offensive, considering they were both princes with the world at their feet," he said. Sarah became more interested.

"What happened?" she asked. He shrugged.

"Can't say. All I know is they had _some manner_ of falling out. It happened shortly after Jareth took the crown. I assumed it was the shift in dynamic; the weight of a kingdom is a great responsibility to take on, especially one in the state their father left it in, and Jareth found himself forced into gaining maturity very quickly. After all, a great deal had happened to the both of them in a very short span of time." His eyes rolled back down to her and he almost cracked a smile at seeing how attentive she'd become. If only she cared this much about her lessons. "He became more serious, focused, totally work-oriented. It was commendable really. He had no time or patience for his brother's antics. I couldn't have been more proud. Whatever that final straw was, it must have been brooding for quite some time. I'd noticed Jareth's decline of trust in Davion and in turn his better appreciation of me. I don't think Jareth would have ever forced him to leave, however Davion ended up leaving on his own accord. I don't recall ever telling you, but Thaelon left nothing to his youngest son, nothing more than his namesake. I think it was out of guilt that Jareth inevitably made amends and gave him the position of warden and his castle in the north. However, as I'm sure you're aware, their relationship has never fully recovered."

"Huh...and you never asked what happened?" Sarah asked, wondering why Roldan apparently knew so little if they were supposed to be so close. Again Roldan shrugged dismissively.

"It was not my place," was all he could say. Sarah glanced down, pondering Roldan's words as she gnawed on her meal.

"Hm...I guess it makes sense...both their parents died in the midst of him ascending the throne. That is a lot of stress...Roldan?" and Roldan peered up. "How did Aleigha die?" For a moment he was caught off guard, a blanch that was forced into action once she rose her gaze up to meet his. "I heard she killed herself but..." And his brow subconsciously softened. For some reason...he didn't think she would know anything about that.

"It was not suicide if that's what you mean. At least, it was not intended to be."

"Huh?" She peered up again, eager. It made his brow twitch into a frown. _Really now, show some tact_, he wanted to tell her. After all, these were things he hadn't thought of...in a very long time.

"In our world there is a difference between suicide and what Lady Aleigha attempted to enact," he explained. "The late queen chose to _return to Nature_. Those who are more devout in our faith believe that if one is at peace with Nature, they may transcend physical form and become one with it."

Sarah's expression became puzzled.

"So she...dematerialized?" she asked, and grew subsequently curious to the way he winced just then.

"Ideally that would have happened, yes. Sadly...that was not the case. I suppose that was what made it so difficult to bear...you see, she believed she was at peace. However..."

"She wasn't?"

Roldan nodded.

"Performing the ritual requires ingesting an elixir meant to...facilitate a connection between our world and the metaphysical. When used improperly it is also a deadly poison. She believed that without her husband there was no longer a reason for her life to continue, that the next logical step was to move on with him. She thought that was the same as being at peace, that she could simply relinquish her life to join Thaelon and together be one as a part of Nature; however this desire was not pure as her grieving perceptions twisted it to be. She was not at peace with life, but rather with death and so the process was unsuccessful."

"So she simply died?" Sarah asked. She couldn't help her morbid curiosity just then, wondering what it was like, how horrible it must have been for whoever happened upon her. Just how gruesome were the details of that scene? For someone to be in such pain...to delude themselves to such an extent? She was starting to understand Jareth's exasperation, to have to watch your own parent crumble before you and have there be nothing you could do about it? She recalled the way he spoke about her, the way he judged her so harshly for her actions...

"Yes. I'll have you know...suicide is considered a heinous shame in our culture." She brought her attention back at the sound of Roldan's voice. "We believe nature must be allowed to_ run its course_. Returning to it preemptively, before Nature is ready for us, reflects upon the individual dishonor and irreverence, while a ritual ascension is something of pride -when it is completed correctly- because it signifies the ultimate accordance between us and Nature. When we ascend, it means that not only were we ready but we were also welcomed."

"I see..." Sarah muttered, vaguely trying to discern her thoughts on Fae religion, though after a moment or so realized that was a topic for another day. "Do you think that had something to do with their falling out?" she asked, sticking to the one at hand. Roldan glanced to the ceiling.

"I suppose it could have."

"Hm...was he very close to her?" She was getting nosey now. She couldn't help it. Any bit of perspective she could garner might help her figure out how to feel about this whole profession mess. Or maybe she was just looking for more excuses. It was all too easy to suggest he felt abandoned by her death, to say he'd taken it personally. To look your own children in the face and say you have no reason to live? What kind of impact must that have had on them? Regardless of how she psycho-analyzed him, a sense of empathy came to her naturally. After all, her own mother had walked out with her still standing in the doorway because, quote, _there was nothing left for her there_. Hm, maybe she was just projecting.

"Close? I suppose," Roldan said, and she blinked out of her worrying daze. "Jareth has always been good at putting on airs...it's hard to say what his true feelings are on anything," he said, with an obvious and not so obvious inflection. Sarah frowned. Of course, that only made her feel more conflicted.

"Says the man who knows him so well," she countered. Roldan took a swig of his wine.

"That's precisely my point." He set his glass down and her eyes followed it reflexively. She was almost scowling now, her frown steadily taking over her face.

"Sounds to me like you don't know him at all."

"Or rather, I simply know him in a different way than you." His gaze was cast to the side when she peered up. He looked lost in a memory, or rather a few of them. "The Jareth I have always known is cold, reserved, an unyielding individual. He is unbidden, flaunts every air of pomp and circumstance, he is as dastardly as he is charming, yet those who actually take the time to look at him can easily see the indifference in his gaze, the veneer that has always been his smile; because the truth is, in actuality he cares about nothing at all." His eyes found hers with intent and she unwittingly found her knitted scowl softening. "He is merciless but fair. His only real interest has ever been the kingdom, for which he shows a most respectable dedication and resilience. He is the hardest worker I've ever met, the amount of effort and focus he's exuded to completely transform this land has been admittedly worrisome, but is also the only evidence of any kind of passion I've ever been able to recognize in him." He stopped speaking then and almost bit his tongue. Sarah noticed his expression take on a kind of grimace just then and she wondered what intrusive thought had aggravated him. Though he wouldn't dare give her the satisfaction of admitting it, he'd recognized since the day she arrived, that he saw nothing but passion in Jareth, every time and only when he looked at her.

"Jareth has always been...frustrated," he started up again, changing directions. "The things that are expected of him and the things he wants are often construed with one another. So...I suppose it was simply easier to have everything and thus want for nothing...to expect nothing. Even though he devoted everything he had to the kingdom, for the past five-hundred years it's been as if there was always something else on his mind, something far more important than the world or the people around him, and nothing, no one was ever good enough. That only became more so when Aleigha died."

"Is that not grief itself?" Sarah asked. To her it seemed obvious, though Roldan didn't look quite convinced.

"If it is...if he has indeed ever suffered, it has only shown in the..._unwavering_ strength of his character. It is because of that, that the kingdom has become prosperous, both respected and feared. It is quite cynical to imply, but pursuing that train of thought, one might say Jareth would not have become the great king he is if such events had not happened."

She couldn't tell, but Sarah got the feeling he was being a little sarcastic just then. There was spite in his voice. She didn't understand it.

"And Aurelia?" she asked. She didn't expect his head to whip up so fast. "Was he _so cold_ to her too?"

She couldn't hide her own bit of attitude, not being able to understand nor imagine a Jareth so artificial as the one he was describing. The Jareth she knew was intense in every emotion. Even in moments of repose, in moments when she could recall the veil exactly as Roldan described it, even then it was not a void, it was not_ indifference_ as he put it, no it was more like a torrent of things simply waiting to burst forth. Waiting for someone to notice. He was more complex than Roldan was giving him credit for and she actually felt offended by it. But then again, maybe she was wrong. Or rather, maybe they were both right. Jareth himself had said he could not control himself with her. That he was _different_ with her. Centuries of control...she could imagine how that might register to someone who'd never been allowed to see what was kept locked behind such a seemingly impregnable wall.

"What? How do you know of Aurelia?" Roldan sounded more than surprised as he asked this. He looked alarmed, angered even. Sarah just kind of stared at him.

"...Jareth told me. I've known for a while actually." Did he think it an odd thing for her to know? From the way he reigned himself in just then, she gathered she was giving him one hell of an expression. He drew back from the table and clenched his jaw, his hands drawing into fists before they lowered beneath the table.

"What did he tell you?"

He looked...concerned. Like he was in trouble for some reason. Sarah's lips remained pursed. He was behaving quite oddly all of the sudden.

"...Not much" she said, lying just to see how he would react. Curiously, it seemed to ease him. His posture relaxed just subtly. She found her brow furrowing. "He said that a condition upon taking the crown was to get married-" she added.

"Indeed it was."

"Did Aleigha pass before or after they were married?" The more pieces she gained, the more the timeline seemed to matter. She was getting nosey again, immune to whatever haphazard signs of discomfort he might have been giving her.

"...Shortly after."

"And when did Davion leave?"

"Shortly after that..."

"After Aurelia died?"

"Considerably...before."

"I see. Could you maybe...tell me about her?"

This time Roldan glared up to her.

"Why?" he asked, as if he were offended. Sarah's eyes flickered away from it, from the sudden anger that filled his gaze.

"I...I'd like to know. I want to know more about you, all of you. You keep saying Jareth treats me so differently. That he acts so differently...the Jareth you're describing doesn't sound anything like the one I know. I'd like to know him before. I'd like to know what I'm being compared to," she explained. Roldan continued to glare at her, testing her integrity it seemed. There was something about that statement he found audacious. He didn't like it. _What you're being compared to?_

"Aurelia was..." and then his jaw clenched tightly. "The most brilliant, radiant, and certainly beautiful woman I had ever seen. She was a Duchess from the kingdom of Yore, the first daughter of a very prominent family. She was proud and elegant and very kind..." She could see his eyes drifting away with his sentence, his ears tensing as he ground his teeth. He took in a swift breath. "She was very young, perhaps not by your standards, but still. I suppose we were all young... She had a way about her...like she was floating on air. She came into these old weathered halls and illuminated them with her very presence."

"Yeah...Jareth told me...how great she was," Sarah said, lackluster. Her own gaze had drifted away. Roldan looked up attentively.

"Did he? What did he say?" he asked, and she noticed just how interested he really was. Her brow began to knit as she responded.

"Um...he said she was kind and sweet...came with all the bells and whistles: sophistication, intelligence. She...um..."

"She cared for everyone and everything without discrimination," he cut her off, or rather filled in her gaps. She glanced over to find his expression quite impassioned. "She had a gaze that could cut a person in two and in that instant she could know you better than you ever knew yourself. There was nothing vulgar or obscene about her even in her worst moments- she was graceful. Her heart was far bigger and more pure than any man deserved. And she...she tried her very best to give it all to Jareth." He bit the inside of his cheek and looked away, sneering as he shook his head subtly. "She loved him almost immediately. She went through such efforts to win his affection...it was doubly frustrating mind you, as it was he who picked her in the first place. Can you imagine how humiliating it must have been? Having to win over the person who chose you? Regardless she never stopped smiling. She never lost hope."

Sarah opened her mouth to say something but hesitated, realizing from the fervor with which he spoke that her own predicament with Jareth was the last thing on his mind. Instead, a deeper suspicion came to mind, and she frowned intently as she began to pursue it.

"Was...he cruel to her?" she asked. Roldan rose an exaggerated brow.

"Cruel? Depends on your definition," he said, leaning back in his seat and waving a hand in an exasperated gesture. "By your standards, perhaps not. He never touched her. Not once. He treated her gently, though...that is not the same as tenderness. He never disciplined her, as I urged he do to you. With that said, it was not because she was too blessed to offend, but rather he could not devote enough of his attention to notice her actions at all." Sarah scowled but kept her confusion in silence. His wayward glance saw a great many things and she wondered why it was getting him so riled. "He respected her privileges. You could say he treated her _kindly_. However she deserved far more than that. She gave up so much to please him. She obliged all of his requests, even as they pushed him farther and farther away. He left her isolated like a doll in a house, waiting for the mercy of his attention. She began to think herself a burden, it seemed Jareth desired a wife in name only, a means to secure his crown, so she even released him to take courtesans. No matter her efforts, it was like she didn't matter in the slightest, like he could do without her in a blink." He leaned forward and sighed, lacing his fingers together atop the table to stop them from fisting below it.

"She would come to me...distraught, and ask for my advice on ways to win him over," he said, and she noticed his tone overtly quell. "I didn't know what to tell her," he continued, with another dubious hand gesture. "He was my friend and yet I was outraged that he could treat her of all people so coldly. In my opinion the fault was solely with him. She was just so...willing. How could you not reward a woman like that? And all the while I thought, a man could not ask for a better wife." He was quiet for a moment and then a new tension hardened his features. He was frowning intensely. She'd never seen such a look on his face. She observed him closely, surprised he was blabbering on about this so effortlessly. But then again, as she was soon to realize, it must have been a very long time since he'd last spoken of this, since he'd even had the opportunity to do so.

"When she died..." and his hands curled. "All she ever wanted was for him to realize how much she cared for him. If a child would not do it then what would? However when she became pregnant it was as if nothing had changed. He regarded her like an oddity, like giving him his first child meant nothing to him and he only became more aloof. She had to die in order to pursue her goal and in the end...I still fail to understand how or why she loved him. He used her. Toyed with her emotions when it suited him and left her alone when it didn't."

"You speak so passionately and yet you refuse to offer me even the slightest sympathy?" Sarah asked. She wasn't quite sure how to feel. Roldan always gave her such shit for not properly appreciating all of Jareth's_ mercy_ and yet here he was. Should she be offended? Angry? To be honest, it wasn't even about her. All she knew was that the way Roldan was speaking of them was eerily similar to the way Jareth had spoken of his parents and she didn't like any of it. She wasn't fully prepared when his look on her gained new vehemence.

"Sympathy? What about your situation elicits sympathy? You have been given everything she was not. How could I sympathize with someone who is given all of the affection she strived so hard for without having put forth even the faintest effort? With someone who would undermine and rebut what mattered to her so dearly? He goes out of his way for you and you don't even want his love! Oh the irony. Tell me, what makes you so much more worthy? What is it about you that he is able to love when he couldn't even give her a second glance?" he asked, and she found herself drawing back from the table. "Somehow you manage to secure all of his focus, all of his attention. The things he says and does for you- if Aureilia had even just a fraction of what he has given you maybe she..." and then his voice cut back painfully. Where once there was zeal and anger, there was a waver. He swallowed hard and looked to the table."...she would still be here."

Sarah found herself frowning in an odd gape as she watched in disconcertion his hands clenching in tight fists on the table in front of him. She was too put off to be offended. She was too bewildered to retort. She just listened. And she realized...it'd been so obvious all along.

"You loved her, didn't you?"

"What?"

The sharpness of his tone implied he would snap her neck if she dared to say another word. However her stare on him was unaffected. If anything, as she regarded him she only became more certain.

"Aurelia."

"Don't be absurd-"

"I'm not," she stated. He was fidgeting now, darting his eyes this way and that under the scrutiny of her own. Her brow drew tighter and tighter. For some reason this seemed...very profound to her. "You've made your low opinion of me abundantly clear, and I know I'm not half the woman I'm sure she was, but why are you so upset? You do realize she was _Jareth's_ wife?" she asked, tilting her head as he glanced away with another look of frustration. "...does Jareth know?"

"Know what?" he snapped.

"That you're _still_ in love with her?" He stared at her like she was speaking in tongues but she wasn't having any of it. "Everyone keeps saying how perfect she was...how hard she tried. Maybe he _didn't_ love her, but I have a hard time believing Jareth could be so indifferent towards someone like that..." Her voice trailed off and she glanced down as she thought. Not so long ago, she'd wondered why he didn't seem to care...why the death of his wife and child was anything less than traumatic. And then...she looked back up to Roldan. "You said he _never touched her_, that he didn't care about the pregnancy. The child...was it even Jareth's?"

For some reason, she did not think such a question would merit the dramatic loss of shit that happened next.

Sarah actually flinched back in her seat Roldan rose to his feet so quickly. His hands had slammed down on the table and he leaned over it with the most vicious of expressions.

"How dare you," he growled, the outrage in his voice raising it considerably. "How dare you make such vile implications against her honor, against mine. As if she would ever- as if I would ever betray the trust of not only my king but my dearest friend!"

He wasn't quite shouting, but the command of his presence frightened her all the same. He'd yelled at her before...but not like this.

"Okay! I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I shouldn't have said that. I was...I was just thinking out loud-" But even she knew how much she'd fucked up. That was an insensitive, careless, tactless thing to say. And of course it would be even more offensive to someone as duty-bound as Roldan. She tried not to tremble but such sudden aggression was hard to stand off against.

"No, you weren't," he stated, pulling away from the table and stepping away from it. "You weren't thinking about anything but your own selfish gain! You want to understand us? To know us better? Don't think a few minutes of reminiscing gives you the right to say you know anything at all," he lectured, turning as if to storm away then and there. Sarah however, wasn't about to let him get away that easily.

"You're right. I was being selfish," she said, and was surprised when he actually paused. "But can you blame me? You've lived so many lifetimes and no one tells me anything. I'm sorry for what I said. I obviously have no idea what I'm talking about," she said, in as appeasing a tone as possible. She could see he was still broiling but hadn't yet stormed off. "It was you who kept that portrait, wasn't it?"

"What?"

He turned back around slightly, glaring from over his shoulder.

"The painting...of Aurelia. The one in the storage room? I thought maybe Jareth had put it there and forgot about it...but it was you, wasn't it?" she asked. He was silent. She stared at him worriedly, biting her lip as she tried to urge her sympathies to him through their connected stares. "You were right about that too," she said. "She's the most beautiful woman I've ever seen."

It was quiet for a moment, neither of them breaking stance. With a nasty sneer Roldan's eyes seemed to refocus on her and then...the tension shifted. His posture relaxed and he stared at her with a look of defeat as the energy in the air fell slack between them. Sarah sat on the edge of her seat, but the fire she'd anticipated was quickly dissipating. His hand gripped the back of the chair and tightened, and he glowered at the floor as he composed himself.

"Did you tell him?" he asked and she blanched. His voice was low, calmer but unsettling. She wasn't sure she should trust it.

"Tell him what?" she replied.

"About the painting."

"No...why?"

He turned to face her a little more and angled his head downward as he fought back what she assumed was another flare of tumult.

"...After they died, Jareth was..." and then he quickly changed directions. "He had all of her belongings removed. What wasn't sent back to her family was burned. I managed...to secure a few small items and stored them away..." He hadn't realized anyone knew that painting still existed, much less discovered it. He himself had nearly forgotten. It'd been so long...Her mention of it was like a stark slap in the face.

"So he doesn't know that painting is still in the castle?" she asked. Roldan blinked slowly and relaxed his grip on the chair.

"No...he doesn't."

She didn't say anything to that. She just stared at him. She'd never seen a person look so forlorn. Well, aside from Jareth, but this was a completely different kind of woe. It wasn't something she'd ever expected from Roldan. Seeing him in such a light...she actually gained a great deal more respect for him.

"Do you remember...the favors you owe me?" he asked and she nodded. "I would ask...that you not tell him."

"What would he do?" she asked, frowning at the thought of actively keeping something from Jareth, something that might actually matter to him. She could see the worry play out over his face as he thought over her question.

"...I don't know."

He turned and walked away from her, and she found this time there was little she could do to stop him. She stood up as well, frowning as he stormed away.

"Roldan." and he stopped at the door. "I really am sorry." From the way he paused she hoped he acknowledged she meant it. However, in the end it wasn't enough. He turned but could only glance in her direction.

"...Good day, _Your Majesty_."

* * *

Sarah stared at her knees. The water of her bath sizzled around her as clusters bubbles dissipated while they drifted by. It was warm, maybe a little too warm. A faint sheen of sweat brought a glisten to her features and her hair had begun to stick to the contours of her face. It'd been some time since she'd moved. She imagined her toes were getting quite pruney but had no intention of doing anything about it. There was a slight echo in the room, a reverberation of nothing at all and she thought, with the most miserable of dispositions, that this was indeed the sound of silence.

This was to be her third night without Jareth. For reasons ignored, she found herself feeling very dismal about it. After "dinner", she didn't quite know what to do with herself. She wrote to Marie. She paced restlessly. She sat in her chair and stared at the fire, vacantly.

With a long exhale she pressed her forehead into her knees and squeezed them tighter. She hated this feeling, feeling like she'd royally fucked up. Well, at least now she was more suited to the idiom.

God. She was such an asshole. Roldan was right. She could see plainly just how upset drudging all that up was making him but still she just kept pushing. She felt bad. And had no clue how to possibly make it up to him. Had she just struck the final nail in the coffin that would house her and Roldan's possible friendship? Was she just being dramatic? Why did such things suddenly mean so much to her?

_Urghhhhh..._

She tried not to grumble too obnoxiously. It sounded louder in the bathroom and hearing the evidence of her own frustration only made her feel more stupid.

Droplets of water steadily fell from the faucet. Together they made a surreptitious little metronome no doubt maintaining her sanity in the background. She brought her focus to it. How many more days would she be alone in the castle? How much more shit could she get herself into? Would Jareth be bothered if he returned to a home torn asunder? She asked herself these things, the melodrama continuously feeding off this guilt-ridden void...and then the door opened.

Contrary to her surprise, Sarah didn't even so much as flinch as Jareth entered the room. If anything, she became more rigid. He opened the door without hesitation, without even a knock, leaving her to assume he did not realize she was there. He shut it behind him and took a few steps and she peered precariously to him. She didn't have to look. She'd known it was him instantly, as if she'd developed a sixth sense specifically for him. Was it a coincidence or was her fate just so ill-timed? Of all the times to have been granted a wish...

He was looking down, unbuttoning the cuffs on his sleeves. He looked tired, dark circles cast under his eyes and a listless demeanor over the rest of him. She tried to recall what time it was. It had to be pretty late by now. Perhaps she should leave...

She clenched her jaw as she waited for him to notice he wasn't alone. As if reading her very thoughts, he paused just then and glanced up, straight at her.

His brow twitched and it was apparent that he was confused. He did a quick once-over of the room, making sure he was in the right place.

"Not that I mind..." he started, glancing at her curiously as he turned away towards a cabinet. "But is there something wrong with your own bath?"

Sarah looked away. Yes, she was in his bathroom. She wasn't totally sure why. It wasn't exactly typical for her to be there. His tub was no better than her own and yet...

She was glad the steam had made her skin flushed, it helped to hide her embarrassment.

"No..." she mumbled, tilting her head to lay on one shoulder. He was standing behind her now. She could hear him rummaging around. "It just...feels less lonely here." Jareth paused as he undid the button at the collar of his shirt. There was something very melancholy about her tone. His hands moved slowly as he pondered it.

"I see," he said, with indifference, while the truth was he was really quite cautious. He had sensed a presence when he'd entered his room and yet was still surprised to find her wallowing in his bath. Seeing her again had actually made him quite happy, happier than expected. However such a reaction seemed...inappropriate at the moment.

Sarah's stare remained vacant and she gave no response. She had yet to look back at him, but then again she had no real compulsion to do so. The sound of his voice behind her was enough. The relief it gave her, the butterflies that were suddenly fluttering around her heart, it was worrying.

She wasn't paying attention when he stepped around her to the other side of the tub, nor of the fact that, at some point, he'd removed all of his clothes.

Her eyes widened with alarm as he joined her at the other end of the tub.

"If you were that lonely, you could have sent for me," he said. His gaze was cast away, candid along with his manner as he leaned back and stretched his arms along either side of the tub. His hair fell long over his shoulders, the ends of which turning to darkened tendrils that floated airily beneath the water's surface.

Sarah's eyes traveled down them, around the shadow cast upon his clavicle and the muscles of his shoulders as they flexed. He might not have realized it, but she was gawking. She'd sat up a little straighter and shielded herself with her legs. She was actually embarrassed right now. That and a little afraid. She wasn't expecting him to just strip down without preamble. But then again, this was _his_ bathroom. She was the one intruding.

"I thought you were busy?" she deflected, darting her eyes away and squeezing her legs tighter. There were bubbles at one point. Now she found herself wondering, with minor anxiety, where the fuck they all went. His proximity was making her nervous, but not in the usual way. She could feel the ripples from his movements crashing into her softly and fought desperately not to peek at the parts of him that refracted underneath.

"I was."

Her eyes flickered up to him but she nibbled her lip in lieu of a response.

"Hm..." she hummed, glancing away again in a rather conspicuous roll of the eyes. "So...how was the south?"

"As expected, I suppose."

"The canal...everything on schedule?"

She was trying very hard not to acknowledge the physicality of their situation. She was feeling vulnerable at the moment. In more ways than one. Jareth reclined even further, bending one leg to reveal a naked knee that protruded, like a perverse beacon of sorts, from the frothy depths. Her eyes rolled away once again.

"Hm? Why yes. Everything is progressing nicely," he said, the slight playfulness in his voice betraying the rather blasé nature of his sentence. He said nothing more after that and Sarah found herself feeling awkward over it. Was he not going to ask how she'd known? She peered up to find him anticipating their lock of gazes, and it became immediately clear that was what he had been waiting for. "I take it Roldan told you?" he asked, holding her gaze sternly.

"Yeah," she replied, fighting to dart her eyes away. She knew he was trying to get a read on her but she couldn't help it; his stare could be intimidating at times. There was another silence and she bit the inside of her lip as she imagined the frown his expression had fallen to. "I thought you'd be gone longer," she added, briskly.

"I told you it would only be a couple of days."

"I know but..." and she stole another glance. His brow was knitted, just slightly, just enough for her to realize he was genuinely worried about her. She sighed heavily and rolled her eyes the other way. "I don't know. I guess Roldan was picking on me."

"Would you have preferred me to stay away?" he asked.

"No."

"Did something happen?"

"Not...really."

"You sure?"

He was being very inquisitive, though she couldn't blame him. He was probably thinking of the last note they'd left on, but truth be told that was hardly even a concern to her at the moment.

"I...kind of...Roldan and I had a bit of an argument," she said, and could actually feel the relief come over him.

"Oh? So nothing new?" he asked, teasingly, though Sarah only frowned.

"Well, actually...I think I really messed up this time. I...feel really bad about it," she said, squeezing her legs tighter as she tentatively looked back up to him. The knit in his brow deepened and he cocked his head slightly.

"...What did you do?"

And now she hesitated for another reason. It was bad enough feeling guilty about what she'd done, but how would Jareth react to it? Would he be upset she was snooping again? Would he be offended Like Roldan?

"I...said something stupid," she said and lowered her eyes in shame. "I didn't realize how mad he would get. I apologized. A few times. But...I don't think it helped."

"It rarely does with him," Jareth replied. She felt her brow worry as she frowned down at the water, a look that widened immensely when a hand clamped around her wrist and abruptly pulled her forward. Sarah looked up but left herself unguarded as Jareth turned her around and pulled her back close to his chest. Her heart gave a hard thud and she gulped, huddling into herself as he sat her between his legs. "Care to share?" he asked.

She bit her tongue when his hands found the nape of her neck and gently began to pull the wet tangles of her hair away from her shoulders. He ran his fingers through it and she began to relax a little just from that. She swallowed hard before speaking.

"I asked him...about Aurelia," she said, and tensed all over again.

Jareth paused, noticeably, and she found herself wincing as she waited for his hands to resume their caress. After a moment they did, but she couldn't help but sense a slight loss of tenderness to it.

"And?" he asked, and to her his voice sounded harder, reticent. Maybe it was just in her head.

"And it didn't go well."

She was surprised when he laughed. Surprised when the carefulness in his touch was all of the sudden as loving as it had once been. She was worried when his hands had pulled away from her, but felt a cascade of water run down her scalp and she realized he had poured it over her head.

"Of course it didn't," he said, running his fingers through her hair once more until the tangles ran smooth.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Sarah asked, her confused expression warping to something nasty as it rippled upon the water below. Jareth huffed then, stifling another laugh she assumed.

"Nothing I suppose," he said, though such a response to her seemed wholeheartedly baited. She turned around and glared straight at him.

"Why are you laughing?" Her voice was stronger now, almost offended by his reaction. Would she rather he be upset? Or was she simply expecting it? She realized far too late however how close their faces were and the tension that sparked had her turning right around even more sharply. "...You know he was in love with her right?" she asked, daringly, her eyes peering to the side as if she might catch his reaction. Her shoulders tensed as another perturbed silence threatened to strangle her and, for the briefest of moments, thought that might become literal when his hands suddenly grasped her around the neck. "I'm sorry. I'm doing it again. I shouldn't even be talking about this-"

"Of course I knew," Jareth interrupted, his voice as soft as his touch as his thumbs pressed into her shoulders. Sarah gaped at the wall across from her. Was he really...giving her a massage? Huh?

"Oh..." was all she could formulate. She was too thrown off to prepare anything else. His hands kneaded her back with such quiet tenderness and yet she only became more and more rigid. Was she wrong to be so suspicious?

"Who do you think allowed it to happen in the first place?"

"What?"

She turned back to face him again, less abruptly this time. Her eyes sought his, wanting to understand why his gaze was already so understanding. He stared at her for a moment and almost smiled at how worried she looked. There was so much curiosity in her, such eagerness, and she acted as if it would be the death of her. It gave her an air of innocence, a naivety he'd always enjoyed.

The hand at her shoulder traveled down and rested on her hip, and he smiled faintly.

"If I tell you this story, will you finally let it go?" he asked. Sarah's brow furrowed tightly. She looked angry, though he couldn't help but find it adorable.

"I can't make any promises," she said. His curl of the lips became more genuine.

"That's good enough."

He lowered his eyes as he turned her back around. She was hesitant and did her best to peer back at him but his hands went back to her shoulders purposefully, keeping her facing straight ahead. He didn't expect this to be the nature of his welcome home; but then again, it was more welcoming than what he had expected. She was waiting for him...she could never imagine how happy that made him.

Given her curiosity, he knew he'd have to tell her this at some point. Might as well be now. It seemed...a fitting reward for her bashfulness.

His eyes traveled down the dark tresses of her hair, down the glistening paths of pale droplets that steamed and streamed down her back.

"When I first met Aurelia...I had little interest in acquiring a wife. The whole affair seemed a nuisance. I had far more important matters on my mind," he said, and for a moment was nearly distracted by the concave curve of her back. He blinked furiously and pulled himself together. "I was essentially forced to court dozens of women, and while you may assume I took full advantage of such a situation, in reality I found the whole thing to be quite tiresome." His eyes traveled with his hand as it moved along her spine. She was tense, fighting not to hunch over. The back of his knuckles dipped below the water-line and she shivered. For some reason, he was still smiling.

"The women of court...they are like harpies. They saw my position, my power and riches, they saw a man that through marriage they could control, but none of them saw me. None of them cared to do so. Albeit, neither did I. In fact, I thought such an arrangement to be most suitable. No, a superficial woman did not bother me, what bothered me was that superficial women tend to be quite taxing. They seek attention. They seek to be cosseted and favored and doted and...quite plainly, I had absolutely no intention to do any of those things. I did not have the time nor energy to devote to such a creature and I was already discovering through minor carousing and trivial tea-parties alone just how troublesome it could become if such a woman was not given those things...

"When I met Aurelia I was surprised by how different she was. She wanted nothing from me. In fact, she didn't want me at all," he said, earning a faint twitch in Sarah's posture. She was surprised by his statement, but kept herself from turning back around. His hands had paused in their caress, but now they rose to fondle her hair once more. "She'd come at her father's behest. She was doing her duty and nothing more. The crown, the stature, it all meant nothing to her. When we spoke, it was like having an actual conversation. I didn't have to force myself. I didn't have to bow and smile for the sake of their empty facade. I suppose you could say that was why I chose her, because she was the one person who did not want it."

This time Sarah did turn. She couldn't stop herself.

"I think I'm sensing a pattern here," she said, and he could just barely see her raising a snarky brow from her profile. He smiled again. She was making light of the situation when he knew in reality she was still quite nervous. She was frowning. Was she starting to regret her curiosity?

"Yes, I suppose you could say that," Jareth said, pulling back her hair and wringing out the excess water. "Regardless, she accepted my proposal. I'm not sure who she did it for, whether it was for me, her father...or herself. As it turned out, we actually got along very well. She seemed to know how I felt without me ever saying, which was convenient...as I was not in the habit of expressing myself. Not then at least. Not in the slightest."

Sarah looked down then. There seemed to be something heady weighing those words. She thought over what Roldan had said, about the way Jareth _had always been_. She thought about knowing such a person, about how sad such a thought made her.

"She gave me space, gave me the understanding that no one else seemed to have. She was there when I needed her and not when I didn't, and yes I was selfish with such unwarranted devotion. It is true, although at the time I tried to regard it as such, my feelings for her were never romantic, not in the way you regard such things. Still, there was a time when I tried to love her. I tried to be good to her but...she knew it was forced. She knew I could never regard her in that way, in a way that I was still completely ignorant to." Jareth paused then. His eyes fell low and his brow rose. Sarah started to turn back again. There was something...curious about the tension between them.

"However...contrary to what Roldan might say, this did not bother her," he said, and she found herself fighting to look back at him again. His hands at her back were firm, and she was starting to have the suspicion that he did not want her to turn around, that for whatever reason the look on his face was not something he could bear her to see. She tried to imagine what it was, why his voice sounded so peaceful. "Actually, it was she who revealed this to me. She told me I did_ not_ love her, that I simply didn't know it because I did not know what love was. She also said...that one day I would know. And that when it happened there would be no doubt in my mind-" he cut himself short. He did not have total confidence in what he wanted to say next. Perhaps it would be best to avoid his feelings for Sarah during this particular story. "She was a very wise woman. She knew what I needed and knew she was not the person to give it to me...she knew all of this...because she felt the same."

"What do you mean?" Sarah asked. She'd given up on trying to turn around. Now she was starting to relax. There was something pacifying about his tone, something she didn't often hear.

"You see...the main reason Aurelia was not concerned over my feelings for her was because she was in fact already in love with someone else."

"What?"

"_Mhm_..." he hummed, leaning in close and running his nose along the back of her ear. She shivered from the surprise of it, from the reverberation of his voice through her scalp. "She knew exactly what I felt for her because it was exactly what she felt for me. The only difference was that she had found someone else, something better, to compare it to. Throughout our time together she took care of me. She _loved_ me, but she was not _in love_ with me. That is the best way I can describe it. She hoped that one day I would find what she could not give. That I could find someone who could make me feel the way I was pretending to feel. She wanted me to find...well, someone like you." By now his jaw was resting on her shoulder and his arms had circled around her. He was staring blankly out at the water but his hands toyed with hers in her lap. Sarah wasn't sure how to respond. He was so damn close. The feeling of his chest, wet from the humidity of the room, pressed against her back was distracting her in ways that were in no way appropriate. "However, with that said, I did care about her a great deal," Jareth continued, glancing down as he fiddled with her fingers. "I cared about her in a way that was completely foreign to me. She was my confidant. My friend. Perhaps the closest friend I've ever had."

"I see..." Sarah mumbled, glancing down to the water as well. His hands were so much larger than hers. She found her fingers lacing with his subconsciously. "It's just...Roldan said-"

"And what exactly did dear Roldan say?" he asked. Sarah tensed a little. She wasn't quite able to discern his tone. His jaw pressed into her a little as he relaxed his weight onto her. She took that as a good sign.

"...That all she wanted was for you to love her. That she did her very best to win you over. That she was distraught over it-"

"Roldan is an idiot."

"Huh?"

Sarah peered over as best she could. She caught his gaze half-lidded, bored, and empty. She didn't like it.

"I was not the one she was _distraught _over," he said, grumpily and leaned up off of her. This time Sarah found the courage to follow him, turning around and holding his gaze.

"But I...don't..."

"Aurelia and I had an understanding," he interjected, his lowered gaze rolling to the side as he recalled with better clarity whatever it was that was annoying him. "She never had any intention of loving me. There was no sense in even trying. There was nothing more she could do than her best, but it was never a question of effort. With that said, she felt that if she could not make me happy then the last thing she wanted was to make me unhappy. So, she released me. Early on. She encouraged me to go out and find whatever the hell I wanted. However, happiness was never an ambition of mine and I never took a single courtesan."

"Really?" Sarah asked. His gaze was starting to sharpen the more he spoke. She was intrigued by it. It made her nosey. Just like before.

"Yes. I respected her position. If she was kind enough to make such a sacrifice, the least I could do was honor her dignity."

"But...so you never? But you said...?" She fumbled over her words. She'd started to frown and stared at him intently. What was she trying to ask exactly? Why were the words sounding so stupid? Better yet, why the hell was she asking about it at all?

Jareth glanced up to her with an open expression. Apparently, he understood her perfectly.

"Hm? Are you referring to sex?" he asked, and she blushed feverishly. Jareth smiled then, a very scandalous one, and rolled his eyes. "You don't need to be in love to fuck someone," he explained, teasingly, though was secretly curious to why he needed to explain it at all. Was that not similar to their own experience? Sarah meanwhile only became more embarrassed. "Come now, everyone has needs. I told you we got along well-"

"Okay. I got it," Sarah snapped, her eyes averted as she struggled not to turn even redder. She wanted to turn back around. It was humiliating to let him see her have such a reaction, but doing so would only confirm it.

Jareth's eyes focused on her lower lip as she chewed it and the worried wrinkled in her brow. His playful smile faded and he reached out to smooth it away.

"After a while though, I suppose you could say I was starting to feel guilty," he said, tilting his head as his hand relaxed to grasp the side of her face. "She went so far out of her way on my behalf, so I in return suggested she pursue her own happiness."

"You mean you released her?" she asked. Jareth tucked a stray tendril of hair behind her ear and shrugged.

"Well, unofficially. In our society, a wife can release her husband at any point, however a wife may not be released until she has produced her first child. I did not care for such rules. I told her if there was someone she desired, she should have them," he said, which sounded absolutely nothing like the Jareth she knew. Her expression turned to another scowl and she pulled away from him slightly.

"So...you had an open marriage then?" she asked.

"If we ever chose to act on it, yes."

"And did she? You said she already loved someone...who was it?"

"Who do you think?"

Sarah stared at him for a moment, not quite catching on. She was waiting for the punchline, for a name she would have never heard before and would mean nothing to her. However there was something expectant about his expression, something tired. Something annoyed. She focused on it. And then...

"Wait...no..."

Her narrowed eyes went wide as the light bulb finally lit. It was quite a dramatic shift in expressions. Jareth leaned back and cracked a smirk.

"Indeed."

"Wait, you mean she was in love with Roldan?" she asked, her voice raising an octave. She was baffled. For some reason she was profoundly surprised. Thankfully Jareth seemed to be enjoying her reaction. Though his eyes darted away, he was smiling and he quirked one brow as he shrugged.

"Hard to believe, I know."

"But- what?"

"It was painfully obvious from day one just how smitten he was," Jareth stated, his smile stretching as he sat up straighter. Sarah, now firmly nestled between his legs, found herself leaning over him with intrigue, their surroundings and state of dress no longer a concern. "He really was a sap. I would laugh just watching him try to look her in the eye. On the surface she was the epitome of everything he held dear. Those golden locks and pearly whites. She was his perfect little angel. However, he was too much of an imbecile to ever realize the truth."

"And what truth was that?"

"That she wasn't half as pure as he thought her to be."

He reached up and ran a wet hand through his hair. It pushed back his bangs a bit and a droplet or two ran down his forehead. Sarah tried not to acknowledge how aware she was of such small details...like the way his arm flexed as he did so.

"To tell you the truth, I knew it all along. From the day they met I could see something highly inconvenient sparking between them, I simply never thought it of any consequence. I mean...it is Roldan we're talking about." He spoke with a sardonic nuance, something that almost had her replying that she knew exactly what he was getting at. It was almost hard to believe really. Not to put Roldan down, but between he and Jareth...was there really any competition? Oh dear. What did that say about her?

"They would dart their eyes away whenever they crossed gazes, her voice would get airy and jittery whenever he spoke to her and he in turn would blush and pale and gape every time she smiled. It was kind of annoying in a way, not because I was jealous but because they were too conscious of their own selves to realize the other was acting equally ridiculous. I had half a mind to reveal this to them, to watch them crumble under the realization, but at the same time I didn't much care. If he was too stupid to catch on then it was his loss. After all, she was still my wife. It wasn't as if my bed had gotten any colder." There was a hint of spite as he said that, but it was a comment he quickly regretted. His eyes darted over to Sarah's and he knew he should have kept that one to himself. It was clear by her expression that she had something to say, probably something unpleasant; he prevented it however by carrying on.

"After I _released_ her, her turmoil only became more apparent. She was troubled, caught between her temptations and her morals. Finally, she came to me one day and confessed that she'd fallen in love, confessed that it was _a most terrible, terrible thing._ Of course, I was already well aware. She was ashamed, lamenting, but not because she felt as if she'd betrayed me as a wife, but because of how he might react if he learned of how despicable she really was."

"What did...what did you do?"

Jareth's brow rose to that, as if the answer was obvious.

"What did I do? Nothing," he said, rolling his eyes away and shaking his head subtly. "I told her if she wanted him then go be with him. It was as simple as that."

"And did she?"

His eyes rolled back to her.

"If they ever did have an affair, it was the most pathetic one I'd ever seen," Jareth said, forcing himself not to sound too exasperated. "No matter what, no matter how painful it got, she couldn't bring herself to act on it. I distanced myself from her, I suppose that was my passive way of allowing them more time together. She would go to him and use her feminine wiles to inch ever closer, to subtly allude to what she wanted, but of course he was too thick to pick up on any of it. He was the one who made her so distraught. She would tell him how badly she wanted _him_, how no matter what she said_ he_ never acknowledged her. She would ask him what she should do, how she could get _him_ to notice her. And the fool, he thought she was speaking of me! Ha! Though, it was also her fault, using pronouns as vague as he and him. I told her he was obtuse, that he wouldn't catch on until she stated it plainly, but she was too embarrassed. She was so perceptive at times and yet when it came to him she became a feeble child. She expressed her feelings to him time and time again, all the while too afraid to say whom it was she was feeling such anguish over. And time and time again she would get frustrated and run back to me, falling in sobs over the fact that perhaps he did not feel as she felt after all, that maybe her fancy was one-sided and she was a fool for even trying. There were several occasions I almost intervened but...I knew she would be devastated. Above all she did not want his regard of her to change. For some reason she thought he would think less of her. She would rather they be close and nothing at all than risk bringing scandal to the Goblin Kingdom."

"And...you weren't bothered by that? By the fact that your wife was in_ anguish _over your friend?" Sarah asked, confused and upset and suspicious of the way he spoke to her so casually.

"...No. As I mentioned before, she was very considerate towards me. I thought helping her to be the logical thing to do. But more than that, I wanted her to stop focusing on me and all of my inability. I didn't care that it was Roldan. It didn't matter who it was."

"Oh...I see."

"So I gave her my blessing. I gave her every opportunity to do as she pleased and yet she would never take him as an illegitimate suitor. She said it would bring disgrace. I told her numerous times I did not care. That her reputation at court meant nothing in my castle. However, she said it was not her reputation she cared about either, but mine. Taking a suitor rather than a mate would dishonor me as her husband, it would reflect negatively on the kingdom. And, as she so often liked to claim, hurting me in any way was the last thing she would ever do."

"I can see why Roldan liked her so much," Sarah mumbled, not quite sure what else there was to say. She leaned back from Jareth and fiddled with her hands. She looked very contemplative all of the sudden, but lowering her spirits was not something he wanted to do. She gasped when he reached forward and yanked her back, forcing her to straddle his lap as water splashed about them.

"Yes. She was a very good woman," he said, regarding her shrewdly as she blushed and looked away. She'd had to brace herself with her hands against his chest, hands which now pulled away tentatively with fingers that curled. She drew in her lower lip and gulped. She could feel certain things pressing against her. It was hard to ignore. "However, after a while of watching them...I grew bored of it. No matter what I said, she refused to reveal her true intentions. She was convinced that the only way she could allow herself to be with him was out in the open, _as a mate_. She said it would give her something to look forward to. That it was simply an _inevitability_. To me that all seemed so...unnecessary." His hands lowered to rest on her hips and she waited for them to lower still. She was surprised when they didn't, surprised by the realization that, aside from her own dirty paranoia, there was nothing sexual about his actions. She was so afraid of touching him, of the tension that sparked between their naked bodies; but the feeling of his skin, the feeling of his hands on her, it was comforting. His proximity was comforting. It felt natural. Intimate.

Her eyes were still lowered, her arms drawn in to conceal herself, yet when she looked up she saw him regarding nothing but her face and even then, his stare was somewhat wayward.

"One day a thought occurred to me, something that seemed so obvious, a means that would benefit us both..." He held her gaze, but it was because of it that he paused. She saw his brow twitch, saw some worrying thought as it lurked behind his eyes. She knew what he was referring to, knew enough to recognize that kind of apprehension.

"You mean having a child," she said. His eyes drew away from her and he cocked one brow; he was trying to play it off but she could see the muscle in his jaw flex as he clenched it.

"Yes. It seemed only logical. If the only way she could claim her happiness was to first have a child with me, if it was already an inevitability, then..."

"So it...was your idea?" she asked, her curious look turning to a scowl. "You had a child together just so she could be with another man?"

And then he smiled. He couldn't help it. He sensed judgement in her voice, unintentional but there all the same. He looked downward, his brow raising as he huffed.

"You make it sound so ludicrous," he said, rolling his head back to her and reclining against the tub. "However, back then I had little comprehension for the gravity of such things. I had no desire to be a father. Although I was a king. I needed an heir. And once her only obligation to me was fulfilled, there would have been nothing keeping us both from getting on with life," he explained, withdrawing a hand from her to claw through his hair once again. He was looking away from her and she frowned at how candidly he recited such dismal words. "Of course...she saw through me plainly," he continued, taking a deep breath as he relaxed. "She did not believe I could be so _apathetic_. She asked...when I would finally realize how loved I was. I found that rather ironic, coming from her of all people. In the end she agreed, not because of what it would mean for her, but for what she thought it would mean for me. She thought a child would be the cure...to all our problems. Little did I know, such high hopes were to be the end her."

The dour end of his sentence had Sarah frowning harder, her eyes drifting down to stare vacantly at his abdomen. This was turning out to be much more complicated than she ever thought it would be. She was surprised he was so forthcoming about it, but the calmness of his voice proved his sincerity. It was hard to wrap her head around.

"...He blames me you know." And Sarah peered up. The tone of his voice had changed. He was no longer reciting, but speaking directly to her. She blinked at him a couple of times, trying to clear her head. "For her death," he clarified. "He thinks that, because the child was mine, because she was so desperate to be loved, that what happened that night is unanimously my fault. And I...do not _disagree_. However...there were things that not even I could help."

"What kind of things?"

"In the beginning Aurelia was...highly enthused about the endeavor. I admit, it was easy for her optimism to be construed. I was not one to complain mind you, but you can imagine the impact this had on the delicate sensibilities of our sweet Roldan. He grew disheartened, misinterpreting her _gusto_ as renewed affection towards me. She wasn't sure what to do. In her mind she couldn't simply_ tell him _what was really going on. She told me he was starting to pull away, that he had started to look upon her with that of shame. I don't think she realized the one he was probably ashamed of was himself. He was after all, coveting his best friend's wife."

He paused again and she felt his grip on her hip flex. His brow furrowed as something else came to mind, something he wasn't sure how to say.

"I did not know this until later...Perhaps if I had known...if she had simply told me, I could have warned her. I could have stopped her-"

"Stopped her from what?"

She didn't like the look on his face, the anger, the disconcertion. The trouble. He shifted his position and held onto her so she didn't fall.

"_Hm_...history is bitter and ironic, and takes great amusement in repeating itself...or so it seemed," he said, one hand, subconsciously she assumed, lowering to rub along her thigh. It was a gesture meant to comfort, though she of course was not the one who needed it. "After she passed, her physicians conducted an inspection to discern why there were such profound complications with her labor...They found remnants of toxins in her system, of the same nature, oddly enough, that crippled my mother." Sarah's posture became more attentive but, not wanting to see the look he was sure was on her face, he averted his eyes and carried on quickly.

"Of all the foolish things she could have done...It's almost comical. Her dosage was not high, however if she had simply told me what she was doing I would have prevented her all the same. She'd been taking it for the past several years...The doctors were able to establish that she'd stopped once she'd conceived. There should have been no cause to worry and yet...the only explanation given was that _it affects everyone differently._ Compared to the amount Aleigha took, Aurelia should have been fine, though it seemed Aleigha had a higher tolerance for such things. As it turned out, Aurelia's body...was not so durable. It weakened her considerably, to the point where she could not handle the stress of labor. It was...ultimately what caused her death. One of her hand-maidens came forward, told me she had been keeping it a secret, that she knew how it had affected my mother and didn't want me to worry. She had confidence she'd taken all the proper precautions. She thought she was being safe..." Sarah's hands rose. She wanted to touch him, to comfort him. The tension twisting his features showed traces of the upheaval he always denied, yet she was at a loss. She felt like an outsider, like no matter how far she stretched, right now she would never reach him. A fleeting thought flickered to and away just then, about the real reason he might have been so upset she'd asked for contraceptives. They were after all drugs that affected fertility...

His hands were gripping her more firmly and he paused to collect his thoughts. Sarah stared at him, really stared at him, and she wondered...how could anyone think he was hollow? How in the world could Roldan have been so wrong?

"Foolishness. It was utter foolishness that got her killed. She could have just been happy. She could have done what I always do and just take what she wanted. Instead she worried over me until the very end. And that idiot. If he was half a man at all she wouldn't have been driven to take such irrational measures."

"So you blame each other then?" His voice was starting to rise when she interrupted him. It was the closest thing to anger she'd ever discerned when he spoke of this subject. He clenched his jaw again and forced himself to smirk, huffing as he rolled his eyes over to her.

"It's useless to blame anyone at this point," he said, cynically. Sarah tilted her head, unaffected by his haughty veneer.

"But...if all that's true...then why does he still think she loved you so much? That her efforts with the baby..." Her voice faded to nothing as she regarded him. She looked quite quizzical, mainly of the reason why his eyes turned so sharp. He said nothing and then...her scowl furrowed deeply. "You...you never told him, did you?" she asked, and he glared away defensively.

"Perhaps it slipped my mind."

"For five-hundred years?" Sarah asked. "I thought you didn't hold grudges?"

"Or rather, I see no point in revealing it."

Sarah's brow rose higher. He was acting petulantly, his gaze averted, his expression stern. It was a reaction more fit to the Jareth she knew. She didn't know how to feel about it.

"No point? Seriously? I mean, he's _still _pining over her. You don't think knowing she felt the same way about him would give him some closure?" she asked, dubiously. After all that, all that introspection and wisdom gained, he was going to end on something petty like that?

Jareth could tell exactly what she thought of him from the abhorrence of her expression and was quick to rebut her.

"Closure? You really think telling him _he_ was the motivation that led to her death would give him closure? That all that time he wasted fretting about betraying me could have been spent loving her? That all along she was just as selfish and reckless as the rest of us? Or that he was partly to blame for the death of my son? No. I think it better he live in his delusions, that he think me the same wicked villain everyone else does and blame me instead," he said, with a touch of condescending ire. Sarah sat back, that last passive-aggressive comment obviously directed for her. However she chose not to play into it. No, she could see past his antagonization for what it really was. Did he think he was actually showing Roldan some form of compassion by keeping this from him? He had said Aurelia didn't want Roldan to think less of her but...really to such an extent? Who was he really trying to punish here, Roldan or himself?

"I don't know...if I agree with that," Sarah said, deeply conflicted over this whole matter. She saw first hand how torn Roldan still was over, what Jareth now considered to be, ancient history. It wasn't right to keep something like that from him, but at the same time...was it really her place to do anything about it?

"Well, then you tell him. I won't stop you."

Sarah glared up to him sharply.

"You say that as if you don't care but you obviously do. Why else would you still be punishing him over it?" she asked.

"Probably because he's so easy to torment."

"Keep up with the sarcasm. I know you don't mean it."

Her stare bore into his and had no intention of backing down. He knew that look. He knew it all too well. After these past few days it was something he missed and for that reason alone thought about taking her up on her challenge. It was for moments like this after all, that he claimed to adore her so.

"_Hmph,_ perhaps you're right," he said, choosing to back down for this round. "However, it wasn't until recently that I understood how he must feel. I was upset when Aurelia died. But if anything ever happened to you, I am certain it would be the end of me."

"I doubt it."

Sarah spoke coldly in her response, letting him know she wasn't falling for any of his shit. He was trying to deflect from the issue at hand, but she was never one to be swept away by his flattery.

"You shouldn't," he said, raising a hand from the water to gently stroke the side of her face. "You've become crucial to me." His voice became soft in an instant, his gentle gaze now just for her. Her brow twitched and on reflex she glanced down. Oh. Snap. She wasn't ready for that one. And yet she had just talked so tough. Jareth watched her struggle for a way to assert herself and resided to let the moment linger. Her vulnerability just now was something he clung to. "I've missed you terribly these past couple days..." he continued. "I found myself worrying...about whether or not leaving you was the correct choice."

Sarah glared to the side. Of course he was bringing_ that_ up. Perfect timing as always. It was so like him to wait until the moment her armor cracked on its own before wrenching it open completely. She thought she was stronger than this. She still had a bone to pick with him and yet...

"I would have gone with you, you know...if you had asked." She peered up, giving in to the pull of his gaze. She was pouting and he fought so hard not to reach out and caress that glistening lip.

"Ah...I'm disappointed then. I thought perhaps you would have preferred a space away from me."

"...No. Not really."

She mumbled as she stared anywhere but at him. She didn't like this, the position he'd so slyly maneuvered her into, and so quickly at that. There were still so many things she wanted to know, wanted him to explain, things she didn't understand much less agreed with. But then again, maybe he didn't want to talk about it anymore. Maybe this was his way of expressing it. She realized she was being selfish again, forcing him to recall the dour details of the past like this...

"Thank you...for telling me all that. I know I'm just being nosey but...it means a lot," she said, choosing to let the issue go for both their sake. Perhaps it was best to quit while she was ahead. She'd stirred enough quondam demons when they had more than enough to wrestle with in the present. Jareth tilted his head. Somehow it felt like they were actually on the same wavelength for once. Wait...Did they just compromise on something?

"Are you satisfied?" he asked. Sarah shrugged, a sad little smile curling one end of her lips.

"_Hm_, not really," she said, glancing back up to him. "It's kind of amazing though." Jareth's brow knitted questioningly.

"What is?"

"Your lives. All the things you've done, experiences you've had. I can't help but wonder...how much of you can I ever really know?" Her eyes had lowered again, become humble. It was an expression that struck him. Was she really so oblivious?

"On the contrary, I think you know more of me than anyone," he said, curious to the flicker of a smile that was her response.

"Exactly. You say that and yet sometimes I'm not sure I know you at all." Her gaze roamed vacantly as she pondered, over his chest, the hollow of his neck, in and out of the tendrils of his hair... Was Roldan right in that respect? What did she know of him? She knew his nature yes, but what else? She knew his mannerisms, his outbursts. She knew whatever bits of past he chose to give her. But what did it really mean to know someone? Was it knowing their favorite color or food? What they wanted to be as a child, their biggest fear? Was it every detail she didn't have? Or was it something less obvious, something a bit more inherent than that?

"Do you mean that?"

She looked up to Jareth as if his question demanded it and her eyes roamed all over his face. She didn't know what to say. Yes, she meant what she said; but looking at him now there was no mystery. There were no _other versions_, Dream or Real, hot or cold, past...or present. There was just him, staring back at her. And she thought...maybe he was right. Maybe _knowing_ someone had nothing to do with the things you did or did not know _about _them.

"...Do you find it surprising?" she asked. "A few weeks ago I was certain you were clinically insane."

"And now?"

"Oh, I'm still fairly positive." She was smiling, but he wasn't convinced it was real.

"Only fairly? I must be losing my edge," he said, trying his best to gauge this ominous new mood of hers.

"I think that's a good thing..." she replied, glancing down as she knitted her hands. The Jareth talking to her now felt so different than the one she knew a month ago. And just like the one from his story, she had a hard time believing they were all the same person. He was too complicated for her. A thousand years was too much personality for her to handle. But he was one person. The colors and the shades...the light and dark. They were all the same. Jareth.._.has always been Jareth_. She felt silly then. What the hell was she even thinking? "There's still a lot I wonder about though...about you and this place," she said, forcing a smile and averting her eyes. "Some of it seems so trivial and yet overwhelming."

"Like what?"

She peered down to him in a blanche. She hadn't expected him to be genuinely intrigued by what she was saying, and yet his stare on her was full of it. He tilted his head, waiting for her response. She opened her mouth but paused. What was there to say? Where should she even start? Her eyes scoured his furiously, searching for the answer, and then she leaned towards him.

"Well...for instance...these markings," and she reached out to touch his face. "Are they real? Or make-up?" She tilted her head as her thumbs pressed against the markings around his eyes and he blinked repeatedly as she tested whether or not they would smear. "I've always been curious. Sometimes they change color..."

"They're real," he said, reaching up and pulling her hands away. She pursed her lips and settled back down.

"How come no one else has them? I don't remember seeing anyone at the ball with markings like these," she added, watching him closely as he smoothed out his eyebrows. To her surprise once again, the colorful slashes remained in place. "Davion doesn't have them either..."

"Yes he does."

"He does?"

Jareth peered over to her and quirked a brow, easing back and extending an arm along the rim of the tub.

"These markings are hereditary. Though you said it yourself, sometimes they change color," he explained, bringing his free hand back to her hips as if it naturally belonged there. "We also have the ability to suppress them."

"Really?"

"_Mhm_. Davion has always found them to be..." and his eyes rolled towards the ceiling. "_Unflattering_. He learned to suppress them at an early age."

"Huh. That's interesting," she replied. Interesting because she actually found them to be very flattering. It was part of what made him so exotic. So intimidating and...

"It's quite funny actually, even now when he gets upset or loses focus, sometimes they'll start to fade back. When he was younger he would get embarrassed and lose control. Heh, they would just get darker and darker."

"Seriously? That's hysterical," Sarah replied. Picturing baby Davion all in a huff brought an honest smile to her face, and to Jareth it felt as if it was the first one he'd seen in a long while. Seeing it on her helped him to smile too. For as impromptu a question as it was, it provided a much needed break in tension, one that they didn't even realize.

"_Mhm..._"

"Can you do it too?"

Jareth blinked. He'd been distracted by her smile. He didn't realize right away that she'd made a request of him.

"Hm? Suppress them?" he asked. She nodded.

"Yeah...can you...would you show me?" she asked.

Jareth sat up a little straighter and quirked one brow. She waited, not sure what would happen, but as he stared at her just like that the markings gradually disappeared. Her eyes became fixed as she watched them fade to nothing. His stare on her remained the same, however Sarah's was now...much more intense.

Jareth's expression threatened to worry as he watched her brow start to furrow. She was staring at him quite fervidly. He wasn't sure why. She had yet to respond. He peered around the room and gave her a dubious stare.

"Something the matter?" he asked. Sarah blinked. She blinked and then shook her head. She opened her mouth to speak but instead leaned forward, cocking her head to one side as she brought her face close to his.

"No..." she murmured, her expression looking oddly vexed as she inspected him. "It's just...fascinating I guess. You almost look human," she said, her voice quirking up with a faint laugh. Her smile returned and she eased back from him. Her eyes were still devouring him, wide and darting this way and that. Jareth grinned. She looked so enthralled.

"Really? Should I be worried?" he asked. Sarah was still distracted. She wasn't expecting the difference to be so severe. It was little more than eyeshadow after all. Indeed, it might have just been in her head. Either way, it took her a minute to respond.

"N-no..." she said, realizing far too late that there was a waver in her voice. What the hell? Were those butterflies in her stomach? She blinked furiously and leaned in again. "And-and your eyes..."

"What of them?" There was amusement in his voice. She was regarding him like an oddity and he couldn't help but mock her for it. She was so earnest in her wonder. He'd let her dissect him here and now so long as her stare remained so impassioned. He bet she didn't even realize it. Before he could feel her heart pounding from just his hands on her shoulder; now she was getting so close.

"The left one. It's different. Is that hereditary too?" she asked. Jareth smiled.

"No."

"Oh? How did it get like that?" It was something she'd always wondered about, something that made his stare all the more unnerving. In the beginning, she thought maybe one was a different color. After their first close-up however, she realized that wasn't the case. One pupil was constantly dilated. The asymmetry was bewitching. Her eyes darted between both of his, admiring the livid blue as she so often liked to do.

"It's a result of the skill that allows us to slip between worlds," he explained. "Think of it as...an addition of sight. The more one crosses the threshold, the more prominent it gets."

"You must go a lot then."

"In recent years, yes." There was something ominous about that response but Sarah caught on quick. He was talking about their not-so-coincidental past. _Oh._

"Okay...if that's the case then how come no else else has it?" she asked.

"Well, they do," he said, with a shrug. "Not Roldan, not Mariella, not anyone who is not of high enough station to acquire such a skill. However the upper aristocracy, even Davion, they all have it to some degree," he explained, to which Sarah grew confused. Davion had it? She didn't recall ever noticing. She didn't recall noticing anyone with such a condition other than Jareth. Was it uncanny? Was she simply not paying attention?

"But...I feel like I would have remembered seeing that at the ball..." she mumbled.

"That's probably because you were, or were supposed to be, refraining yourself from looking any of them directly in the eye. Remember?"

She peered up but her brow was still furrowed.

"Oh...right." That was true. She never did actually look anyone in the eye that night side from Jareth. But Davion? They'd been close enough to "kiss" and still she didn't notice. His case must be more subtle than Jareth's. Significantly.

It was quiet for a moment. For some reason she was amused, pleasantly sated, and she wondered at what point the apprehension left her. Her hands had fallen to lightly rest on his chest and her fingers tapped leisurely. The faucet was still dripping behind them. She found it kind of funny. She'd completely forgotten about it.

"So...does it take a lot of concentration to do that?" she asked.

"Not really."

"Hm..." Her fingers toyed with the ends of his hair. They were wet, darkened. Her eyes traveled up to his neck, to where the moisture stopped and the tresses became pale and delicate. She wondered if he was still suppressing his marks. She glanced up and saw that he was and that he was regarding her candidly. Meanwhile she couldn't get over it. He just looked so different. His bangs were pushed back slightly from running his hands through them and she had the peculiar realization of how little she ever saw of his forehead. It gave her an idea. "Would you...do something for me?" she asked.

"You have another request?" he countered, only half-sarcastically. She reached up and brushed back some of the hair that had stuck to his face.

"Dunk your head under the water."

"Excuse me?"

The sudden shift in his expression made her smile. She inched back to give him some space.

"Just humor me. Please?"

He gave her a very questioning eye and then leaned forward obligingly. She scooched back a little more, masking her anticipation and eagerness at the fact that he had apparently agreed so effortlessly. It was a good thing the tub was so deep; he leaned forward and buried his head then quickly withdrew it again.

The sound of water cascading down the heavy mass of his hair back to the tub was loud and caused a series of ripples that shattered the pane of the water's surface.

"Happy?" he asked, clearly disgruntled. Sarah stifled a laugh but could do little to hide her grin. His head was bent forward, his hands trying to figure out how to best handle the situation. A small chuckle escaped her then. His head looked like a matted mop. She reached in and helped push it back from his face.

"Yeah..."

"Wonderful," he said, wincing as excess water streamed down his face. He reached up and wiped it from his eyes. "Was there perhaps a reason?" He looked so grumpy. It was delightful. She smiled gaily as she combed her fingers through his bangs, slicking them back and pulling the rest of his mane away from his shoulders.

"I wanted to see...what you looked like," she explained, paying him no real mind as she had her way. "Behind all the flash and flare you really do look-" And then she paused, a queer palpitation disturbing the rhythm of her pulse. She'd...never seen him like this. Never seen him so... "disturbingly human… aside from those ears I mean." She smiled as she spied their pointed tips. Indeed, without those as a dead giveaway, she might think herself in a twilight zone. With his hair out the way she could see more of his face; simple details like the shape of his hairline, or the faint age lines that defined the corners of his eyes without the distortion of those markings, it was things like this that she was so enamored by. To her he looked older, less intimidating, but nonetheless handsome. She was curious at first to see what would happen without that fluffy hair of his. She wasn't expecting herself to be so...affected. "Do you always wear your hair like that?" she asked, trying to keep herself from getting carried away. He peered away and cocked another brow, and she could see the muscles and tendons flex in his neck. It seemed thinner. His jaw more angular. She wanted to...

"Not always. I suppose you could say such things are simply_ in style_ at the moment."

"Yeah, I can tell," she said, recalling the menagerie of the ball. She never before realized there were so many different ways to style one's hair.

"Do you find it displeasing?" he asked. She blinked, not quite paying attention, and realized she was making a rather dour face. It turned to a smile instantly. A small one.

"No...not at all," she said, perhaps too readily. To be honest, she found all of Jareth's excessiveness to be quite alluring. It was what made him stand out. It was an extension of his personality. But, as she was starting to realize, even without a trace, even stripped completely bare as he was before her now, he still stood out to her. There was no one else...who could compare.

"Well? Are you satisfied now?" And she blinked at him dumbly. "You've been very inquisitive tonight. Do you feel like you know me yet?"

He was staring at her, his expression playful. He was probably picking on her but she took his words seriously. This was supposed to be a big deal to her wasn't it? And yet she'd been so complacent. She was aware of herself now however, aware of just how _complacent_ she'd become. Her hands reached up and touched his face, as if she were regarding something delicate and fragile. One of her thumbs caressed the corner of his eye and a faint warmth came over her that had nothing to do with the steam of their bath.

At first she was confused, perhaps even skeptical of the stories he had told her. And while she didn't know, while Aurielia's voice was still as silent as ever, as she stared at him she thought that maybe she understood her just a tad. It _was_ hard. It was the most difficult thing in the world. To look someone dead in the eye. To have that person so close to you. To be given every opportunity and still never be able to say how it was you really felt...That despite the _pain_ and _anguish_, some things had no choice but to endure.

If she was unsure before, she decided it now. She was going to take control of her life. Whatever it was that happened the night of their wedding, whatever those emotions were and where ever they came from, she refused. It would not happen again. She would not be controlled by them or by her fear anymore.

His hands on her hips flexed subtly, enough to pull her from her daze and she realized she was just staring at him. She lowered her eyes and drew in her lip. It would be dangerous to forget the Jareth she'd first met. But it would be foolish not to acknowledge the one before her now. He had changed hadn't he? No...no he hadn't. They were the same remember? It was more accurate to say that he'd been revealed. Her fingers ran through his hair once more, gently over the tip of his ear and down his neck. How much time had passed in her daydreaming? He'd asked her a question hadn't he? Well, did she know him now?

"...A little," she said, leaning forward and closing her eyes as she kissed him.

Jareth paused when her lips pressed against his. She'd moved slowly but still he wasn't expecting it. A gloss had come over her eyes. He was wondering what she was thinking about. Regardless, he tilted his head and parted his lips as he returned the gesture. Her hands went around his neck, his slowly up her back, and the moment seemed uncommonly ardent. He pulled her closer; her back arched, one hand enveloped the back of her head. She kissed him deeper, slower, and to him it was as if they were communicating. That this was the only way to say it. To let the other one know that this time they did not have to pretend. They did not have to hope.

He'd left her to clear his head, to come to terms with the decision he'd made. A part of him had been skeptical, not as confident as he appeared, but this moment was enough to prove its worth. To leave him without a doubt. She didn't know. She would never know. But still, she showed him such mercy and because of that it mattered to him even more. Her touch spoke to him in ways that never before existed. In ways that he was in such awe of. Her kiss told him what he could not ask to hear, what he so desperately wanted to believe. That _this time_ it really was...going to be alright.

* * *

A spark lit amidst the darkness, a lowly flicker of flame slowly dwindling in shadow. The saucer atop the pillar trembled, rippling, and the flame rose as a butterfly gradually spread its wings.

Liana woke in a most curious state. She had been summoned but...by whom? There was no caller in the darkness...

Sarah?

She felt her presence with her. Felt it strongly. What was it that she wanted? Why did she feel so...far away?

Was it the charm? No...

She relaxed her mind and the feeling became clearer. Jareth's charm proved a nuisance but this was something different. This was something stronger. Something from within. It was...forbidding her. Wait, _forbidding_? She tried to reach out to Sarah with her energy but was outright denied. This time she could not reach her in the slightest. What? The meager amount of influence she retained was dwindling. It was as if there was...a wall.

And that's when she realized...

If she had a face she would have smiled. If she had a right she would've been offended. She wondered what it was this time, what gilded words he'd used to beguile her now. For Sarah to block her out like that...to do it without even the slightest awareness of it? _A strong will indeed._

She was too impressed to be worried. When did she gain enough control to tell her no? Hm...someone must not have been paying attention. _Well then... _Two profound decisions in one week? It would seem she no longer held the advantage. How interesting.

She could only wonder now which was the greater inevitability: to relinquish or awaken?

_Oh Jareth.._.it would be most mischievous of her to keep this to herself.


	117. Chapter 23, Wanting

Chapter 23, Wanting

* * *

There was dust in the air. It hovered, stagnant. She could tell by the way the light refracted around it. It seemed to glitter as they passed by, the shine undulating from window to window. Oddly enough she found it charming, as if it enriched rather than dulled the scenery. She believed this a peculiar thought to have given current circumstances, especially when all the other women were busy curling their lips and turning their noses up to it in disgust.

They were chatting away, passive-aggressively complaining and criticizing as women often did, and yet from initial observation one would say they were _so excited_, so _thrilled_ to be there. They laughed and giggled and gossiped, on and on. She however kept quiet, kept her thoughts to herself and followed them slowly at the back. After all, who was she to judge?

"How much longer until we arrive?"

"Only a 'nother moment Milady. We'll be there soon."

They were being led by a goblin, and while the ladies feigned poise and civility, she knew they were nothing less than sickened by it. They kept their eyes averted, held their hands over their mouths in haphazard gestures of tact, due to the dust in the air they might say. This did little however to mask the casual side-eyed glance of condescension or the slight raise of brow that leered about every so often. Such glances would even fall to her, she noticed. Perhaps it was because she was lagging behind... and here she thought such efforts would render her more discreet.

She found it odd to have a goblin as an escort, not inappropriate or offensive as the others might have judged, simply odd. To be honest she'd never met a goblin before. Given her present company, that might seem surprising; she was of course no country-bumpkin. However, they simply weren't common where she was from and, though she would not readily admit it, she did not venture far from home very often. She did not despise them, though, or find them disgusting; in fact, she did not mind them at all. How curious this fellow was, remaining so chipper and steadfast while the women at his back made him a fool for every step. Surely he understood the words they said? Surely he too had feelings? But alas, she would agree with them in one regard. Where were the fae? Where was anyone for that matter? Their envoys had stayed behind. The guards that lined the halls were creatures unfamiliar to her with sentience highly suspect. Certainly this was not normal? Certainly not from the mumblings of her companions. But once again, who was she to judge? One who was so unaccustomed to such things.

With her eyes lowering to the floor, she pulled a handkerchief from her sleeve and patted her forehead with it. The climate was a great deal warmer than what she was used to. It would be difficult maintaining her composure in this dress...

She glanced up at the sound of laughter. It was louder than their previous giggling but it only made her confused. What exactly was funny about their conversation? She heard whispers of the phrase _heavy-handed _heavily annunciated and the different ways one might define the word _filthy_. Was it not rude to gossip about one's host whilst amidst their very halls? And so brazenly at that? She felt shameful just listening to them. Their innuendos were tasteless in their discretion, mocking His Majesty when she questioned whether any of them had ever even met him. Surely...she was not the only one?

Turning away, their laughter faded as she gazed upon their surroundings. It was sparse, not what she'd expected in the slightest. Still it was pleasant, humble even. Contrarily she thought adornment would only lessen the value. These halls had known so much history, seen so many things. It was safe to claim that they were among some of the oldest structures still in existence. Orpus himself once trekked this very path. How could anyone take such a thing at face value? Want to cover it up with things gilded and hollow? And yet here they were, judging, evaluating, finding absolutely everything wanting. Such impertinence, she thought. Such disappointment.

She felt sympathy for His Majesty, feeling there was perhaps something more than neglect that had weathered the halls. To her it felt lonely, like whomever stood and stared perhaps spared a thought, but in the end found no reason to change a single thing. Why waste the effort when there was no one else to admire it? Was that a superficial presumption to make? She hoped she was wrong. Perhaps the king was no superficial fellow; perhaps he valued substance not so easily seen, as the kind she glimpsed between the cracks in the molding and the flake in the wallpaper. She hoped for that instead. She hoped for that deeply.

She must have been feeling wistful as she lowered her hand, for her kerchief drifted lightly from her grasp. She stopped and reached down for it, and became surprised by the wide pair of eyes that met her.

Oh! Another goblin? Good heavens it had given her a freight!

At first she pulled her hand away. It was just staring at her. Oh but-what was she doing? Where were her manners?! The poor thing looked more frightened of her than she was of it! She smiled and blinked furiously, parting her lips to greet it. How silly of her to feel alarm towards such a simple creature. Actually, as she looked at it she thought it was even somewhat cute. However, just as she was about to speak did the thing reach down and take hold of her favor.

Would it offer it back to her? she wondered.

"Pardon me, I seem to have dropped this. Might I have it back?" she asked.

Could it sense she was nervous of it? Was she rightly so? Whatever the cause, before her hand could reach did the tiny trickster abscond with her favor and dart down an adjacent hall. Instinctively, she took a step to pursue it.

"W-where are you going? I'll have you know that does not belong to you!" She spoke somewhat hushed as she scampered after it, thrown off by the critter's bad manners. After a few steps however she stopped and glanced back at her caravan. It wouldn't be wise to separate herself from them. They were now a few paces ahead, apparently completely unaware of her predicament. One of them however was spying on her most discreetly, a wry smile curling her lips.

"Did you see that? The little thing is playing tricks on her," she whispered, and soon the other women glanced back. The woman's smile widened, while her own expression fell to a gape. This was the first time any of them had acknowledged her. "Well? Go on, fetch it. Don't worry, we'll wait for you here," she called out, waving her off with a giggle and turning away. The rest of the entourage acted in kind, snickering as she stood there dumbly at the end of the hall. For a moment she had the suspicion they were mocking her and indeed they probably were. But...they had said they would wait for her. Was it really okay?

"A-alright. Thank you!" she called back, smiling widely before turning briskly down the hall. "Creature! Come back here! I beg of you!" She could hear the women burst into laughter behind her and she frowned in response. This probably wasn't the best impression to make ...Luckily their approval was not something she cared for.

She followed after the goblin as gracefully as she could. Oh, how inconvenient. If it was any old cloth she would have parted with it easily, however she was meant to offer that favor to His Majesty. She'd embroidered it herself. It simply wouldn't do to have it stolen.

She rounded a corner and came to a halt. The creature had bounded around an adjacent corner, accidentally dropping her kerchief to let it glide away behind him. _Thank goodness_, she thought. She'd only had to chase it to the end of the hall. She reached down and retrieved it quickly lest he try to snatch it again. Honestly, what was the point of this? Naughty little thing it was. At this rate she was going to make them all late. Smoothing out her skirt, she wiped away whatever miniscule traces of dust that might have dirtied it and tucked the scarf back in her sleeve. _What an odd thing to do...Well, no harm, no foul I suppose,_ she thought and quickly left to rejoin the group.

...Wait. Was this the right place? Of course it was, she'd just come from this way! So where...where did everyone go? She looked around, trying to orient herself and realized that not only was she alone, but she could no longer hear the babbling of her companions. But how? She followed the creature for but a moment. She could have sworn it'd only been a couple paces. It was only a few seconds, surely. There was no way she had gotten lost. She'd only taken one corner!

But still there was nothing. There were no goblins, no fellow ladies, no beings of any kind. She didn't understand. This had to be the right place. The hall, the windows, it looked the same. She started to panic, recounting her steps in a rush.

Then she paused. The fervid expression fell from her face and she realized...

They had abandoned her, hadn't they? By gods they had! What cruel, treacherous ladies! How would she ever find her way on her own?! It was bad enough to dawdle, but to become separated and then lost? She was sure to sabotage her chances before ever meeting him! She could feel anxious butterflies steadily unnerving her as she fought off her anger. Such blatant deception. Really she had only herself to blame. She shouldn't have been so naive. Of course they wouldn't have waited for her, it might lessen their own chances with His Majesty. And that poor goblin, there was no way it would have stood up to them for her sake. Oh dear, how would she ever make it in time? It was hopeless all on her own…

But no...no their guide said they were close. All she had to do was find the stairs right? Get to the upper levels? She'd heard him mention that. Surely there would be someone to help her, a guard or a goblin or a fae? Perhaps one less mischievous than the last. Yes. Yes that must be the case. There was no need to fret. None at all.

With a new sense of determination, she took a deep breath and swiftly followed after them...

And that was...how many minutes ago? Ten? Twenty? Gods, she had no idea and yet she was still going, wandering the halls blindly. She just couldn't help it. Everything looked so unremarkably similar. Every corridor, every view from every window. Every plaque or painting or torch on the wall. What once she examined so closely she now couldn't recall a single significant detail from. She'd never been to the Goblin Kingdom before. She'd never been completely on her own. She'd never been so frazzled and yet she could spare time enough to ponder the damned dust in the hall!? She was such a fool. She didn't deserve his invitation...

No. No...She needed to calm down. To collect herself.

She took a deep breath and tried to think. She'd been lost for about ten minutes now, was that the number to stick with? She was about to be late, perhaps she already was. On time was to be early and to be on time was unfashionable. To be late was simply insulting. Why, why did she have to chase after the damned favor!

"That's it. Just breathe. Everything will be fine. There is still time." She spoke to herself in a steady voice, closing her eyes and trying to focus. She hadn't come across a single person in her pursuit. Was there a reason they were so wicked? Perhaps if she had joined in their prattle they would have treated her differently…

_I must be getting close, surely! _she told herself. Her father was going to be so disappointed with her; for some reason she feared that more than making herself a fool for the king. _Left. Left. Right. Up the stairs. Down the hall. Up more stairs. Past the library. Was it a library? I took a right. Left. Then right again ...or was it left? Or was it left then right? Oh dear..._ She was trying to keep track of her wandering but it was proving to be a failing effort. This castle was simply massive. Growing up she'd always considered her father's estate to be impressive, but this castle was considerably beyond it. She wasn't sure what she'd expected but it shouldn't have been anything less. She was running around what was once the capital of all Orpia after all.

_Oh dear. Oh dear. Father is going to be so angry with me… _She shuffled as quickly as her gown would let her. The halls had seemed to change after she'd gone up the stairs. They were in better repair, had more formal decor. Did that mean she was on the right path? It had to. She prayed it did.

Taking the handkerchief she'd sacrificed so much for, she patted the sweat away from her forehead. This heat wasn't helping her equilibrium and neither was the dress. She wasn't used to such elegance. In fact, she thought it was a bit over the top -until meeting the other ladies that was. Then she thought maybe she hadn't tried hard enough.

_His Majesty will understand, won't he?_ She was getting desperate now, close to admitting defeat. Why was there no one in this castle? Where were all the guards, the servants? She wasn't paying much attention to the women's jesting but perhaps they did have a point.

Finally she stopped. She closed her eyes and scowled. She'd completely ruined herself, hadn't she? Perhaps Father would see through her, accuse her of doing it on purpose. She was already apologizing, swearing it wasn't intentional, she was just truly unworthy-

"Well, what do we have here?"

Her head darted up as her scowl widened to an honest gape. She'd been caught on the cusp of a breakdown, no matter her tact there was no hope of hiding such an expression. There was a man standing before her, actually a pair of them. They were entering the hall just ahead of her. At first their backs were to her but their heads had turned and now both paused as they peered straight at her. She grew terribly embarrassed. She was still just gaping. What was her expression? Quickly she composed herself and fluttered her eyes away. One of them turned a little more and smiled at her broadly.

"There seems to be a Lady in our midst," the one continued. He was standing to the right, a hand on his hip as he closed the door behind him. His smile on her was cheerful, his boyish features strained with amusement. She paused and caught her breath. She'd never been alone with a man before, let alone two strangers.

"Um, pardon me sirs...am I intruding?" she asked, almost stuttering as she spoke.

"Intruding? Heavens never..."

"Ah...then perhaps you might be of some help-"

"Help? To a damsel such as yourself? Of course. Tell me, my lady, what assistance might we be?"

It was the man on the right who'd spoken, and quite dramatically at that. In truth it made her a little suspicious. He seemed sarcastic, exasperated even. Her eyes darted to the man on the left. He was now slouched back against the wall, was staring over at her but otherwise didn't seem to have any intention of speaking. She wasn't sure what to say next. He looked annoyed. Perhaps she_ was_ intruding.

"I...I'm looking for the tea parlor. For audience with His Majesty? Might either of you know where that is?" She used her words carefully, uncertain of who these fellows might be. Neither of them had bowed to her. Neither of them were dressed formally. In fact, neither had any indication of being high stationed. They wore...trousers and plain white shirts. Were they servants? Yes, it was hot out but was such a thing really appropriate even for them? And where was their greeting? What a strange country this was.

"The tea parlor? I believe it's right through this door, is it not?" The man on the right turned to glance at the man on the left, who only rose an impatient brow in return, and it became clear that she was indeed missing part of the conversation. Was he mocking her? His cheer seemed vaguely artificial. Perhaps she should be offended.

"Really? Thank heavens! Are you a part of the festivity?"

"Festivity?" he repeated, raising her a brow and again his eyes drifted to his companion. "Hear that? It's a _festivity_ now."

"Pardon?"

She grew confused at his words. He was teasing her surely but she had not the bearing to retort. Both gentlemen turned and threw her an eye, and she fought not to meet either of theirs. But no, of course she should meet them. She was without an escort. Oh, she always did fluster easily. To forget her manners at such a time…

"Yes...you might say that. Are you?"

She blinked dumbly, as if forgetting the question she'd originally asked them.

"Ah...Y-yes. Well, I have received an invitation from His Majesty I mean," she clarified. The man on the right turned his head and threw his friend a grin, and from that specific angle she thought perhaps they looked a bit similar. Their hair was of the same fairness, as well as their complexion. If not for the opposition of the one's scowl to the other's smile she might compare them more.

"An invitation, really? How very fortuitous for you."

"Indeed..." she responded warily, sensing some form of judgment in his voice. Resentment maybe? For what reason?

"You must be excited -to meet His Majesty I mean. To fawn and be fawned over."

Now her eyes narrowed. There was definite sarcasm that time. They seemed disgruntled, perhaps even with her, but whatever for?

"What woman would not be excited to share company with an Orpian king?" she answered quite formally. Whatever this sense of sardonic condescendence he had no qualm in conveying truly was, it registered to her in eerie accordance with that of her frivolous companions. None of them seemed to appreciate the seriousness of their circumstances, disrespecting their host in that most elegant and roundabout way. She had half a mind to lecture him on the matter. Yet...was she not the same? Her business here was superficial...perhaps even more so than the rest of them. Any woman would jump at the chance to court a king and yet she… She was no more than a hypocrite.

"Is it not a trivial thing?"

She was so focused on her contemplation that she was actually startled, for this time it was the man on the left who'd spoken. It seemed a baited question, something more shrewd than what let on. For some reason she was caught off guard by it, or rather by the sound of his voice and thus allowed herself to meet his gaze. For a moment she was admittedly intimidated by its severity. Striking blue she noted and, having refused to truly look at either one of them until that moment, was also impacted by the comeliness of his face. Oh my, what a lewd thought to have at a time like this.

"Yes. No. I mean, in a sense, to some I suppose."

"To some? How about you?" Her head darted towards the man on the right, the younger one who stared at her so playfully. His eyes were different from the other. Brown, but still so very bright. She did not favor them as much. Not hardly, in fact.

"No, never. I am honoured to have received such an invitation. Any who would take it for granted do not deserve his audience," she stated quickly. The man's smile widened.

"And yet you would squander such an opportunity on an excuse as callow as sense of direction? Or better… lack of, I suppose. Come now, was it not merely an act meant to abstain you from such…"

"Farce."

"Farce? Why would I…" Her eyes narrowed from one man to the other and it appeared that they were the ones trying to abstain, trying to escape in fact from the event ahead. The one looked tired and both so very bored. It would seem she was indeed missing something. Were they perhaps envious it was His Majesty who was receiving so much female attention? No, it was rude to infer anything of them. And yet, how dare they accuse anything of her. She was asking them for help! "You presume too much, sir. I am lost and alone because I am a fool and nothing more. I was separated from my escort and found myself wandering. Is this the entrance to His Majesty's gathering?" She asked, a little hastily. All this chat was only making her more late.

"Entrance? No this is not the entrance," said the man on the left. "You might say this is the back door, a servant's tunnel, if you will."

"Oh. Oh I see…" she mumbled. So they _were _servants? For some reason that did not soothe her. They were not behaving as servants. Though, they were not behaving as lords either. There was something about their demeanor that was...so very peculiar.

"Why yes, this is part of the inner dormitory. The main entrance is _all the way _on the other side." The man on the right twirled his finger as he spoke, a gesture that she found greatly disheartening.

"Ah...well then…"

"May I ask how you ended up all the way over here? If my intel is correct, you should have been amongst one of the last convoys to arrive."

"I...Forgive me, it is quite shameful really. It was a goblin you see-"

"A goblin?"

"Yes. It had stolen my favor and I was foolish enough to chase after it. I found myself lost after that. I believe the tunnels played tricks on me. I feel as though I've been wandering in circles."

"Clearly."

"Are you mocking me, sir?" she asked. Again it was the man on the right who'd teased her. Audacious fellow wasn't he? He turned and smiled down, tilting his head as his eyes roamed over her.

"Of course not. Have I said something offensive?" Her eyes flickered away from his challenging gaze.

"No...not at all."

"Aren't you more than a tad late?"

Her head peered up at the sound of the second gentleman. She looked straight at him and their eyes locked. Again she felt something oddly intense about his gaze, or perhaps it was simply the vivid blue of his eyes.

She found herself rendered a bit dumb as she struggled for a response.

"Yes. It would seem I am. Terribly. "

"It's bad form to arrive so late to such an exclusive event, wouldn't you say? Some might even consider it insulting and yet you contradict yourself, continuing to dally by spouting such empty concepts as honor, appreciation, and the like." He spoke lightly, playfully even, but somehow she knew better. He was being serious, perhaps even testing her. She wondered then why he cared, why her intentions mattered to him at all.

"Insult His Majesty? Never! I acknowledge my mistake, but it was without intention and _I do_ have every intention of explaining this to him properly. I swear. I understand that this is a once in a lifetime opportunity. I just...I was just..." and then her voice faded off. She was staring straight into his eyes and it was like they already knew, like they'd recognized one another. Perhaps he didn't realize it, but she thought of him for a moment, inspected the depth of his gaze and was suddenly fearful he would be offended should she act in any way less than authentic. What an odd reaction to have. Was she really so transparent? She truly meant what she said, truly. His stare on her only seemed to grow in intensity however and, due to it or her own conscience, she crumbled under its weight. Her eyes rolled to the floor in defeat.

"Oh come now, no need to get all flustered." Contrary to his statement, her eyes anxiously darted back to his. He was smiling now, wryly. "Just admit it, you don't have any desire to be here, do you?" For a moment she was silent. She just stared into his eyes as if abashed. Who ever would ask such a thing? Surely that question was a trick? A test? But how was she supposed to respond?

"The last thing I want is to be a burden upon His Majesty…" she began to say, and her head lowered back to towards the floor. "...to be a waste of his time...perhaps I_ should _admit it and say that you are right." She paused but had not the confidence to peer up at their reactions. "To be honest, it was not my desire to come here today. However, it truly was an innocent act. I would never mean to dishonor His Majesty...I simply got lost. Though perhaps it is my subconscious at work, perhaps it believes it is too late to rectify, that I have already given up and thus why I continue to gab with you here. Perhaps it is best I dawdle and continue still. Is that not why you have found me? To make it all the more explainable? To relieve guilt from my own incompetence? Shall I stay here until all is said and done?" She smiled as she spoke, let go her anxiety and folded her arms. It wasn't proper, no, but she didn't care. It seemed decorum was to be ignored by the lot of them.

She didn't see, but there was a shift in the man's gaze. His hard brow softened just slightly.

"You did not wish to come here?"

"Do you not wish to meet His Majesty?"

She looked up to the man on the left but it was the man on the right who'd interrupted him. She glanced over hesitantly to find him smiling at her most amusedly. Greatly in fact. It caught her off guard. Her eyes kept darting to the man on the left. His gaze on her was so intense, like he was staring right through her.

"Meet him? I would enjoy meeting him surely, but_ meeting_ him is of utter irrelevance is it not?" she countered, ignoring the first question completely and clearly catching them both off guard. "I was brought here to seduce a king, to put on airs and _compete_ against my fellow ladies for something as superficial as the seat next to his, a thing that they would dare call love. I find such actions lewd, disgraceful-"

"Disgraceful? Is it not a high honor to be chosen for such?"

"Does integrity suddenly mean so little?" Her eyes flickered away from the man on the right when her question was met with stark silence. They lowered to the floor and she chastised herself for becoming so passionate. After a moment however they rose, straight to the gaze of the man on the left. "I may have been forced onto the board, but I refuse to play such a game. I refuse to deceive myself, much less another for something so slight, so commonplace as a crown. It was you who called it a farce, no?" She waited for them to respond, but again the two remained silent. She stared at them a little longer and then gradually looked to the floor again. "As I talk to you now, I find myself seriously wondering if I should stay here, squander all of my time and avoid it completely...No one would ever know. I am unrecognizable amongst them. Tell me, is it more shameful to be rejected by a complete stranger or to simply miss the chance all together?"

"If you have such little confidence, perhaps you shouldn't have come in the first place."

Her head darted up to watch as the man on the left leaned up from the wall and approached her. For some reason she found that alarming, like his sudden interest in her was something to be avoided. He was taller than she'd realized. One side of his hair was cut short to the scalp while the other fell long over his shoulder. It swayed a little as he walked. Goodness...What a striking man this was.

"With such meager intentions you are simply wasting your time no?"

"I would much rather waste my time than his and...it is not so much a lack of confidence as an awareness of my surroundings," she said, keeping her eyes strictly from him as he stood before her. His presence was different from the other man. It was imposing, calculated. Who...who were they?

"Really?" he asked. She blinked herself from her daze.

"Yes. The courts I partake in are small. Only once have I met my own nation's king let alone another's. But, as I am told, an invitation from the King of Goblins himself is something that simply cannot be refused. I come here seeking to court this man when I myself do not even know what he looks like. Walking behind those women and listening as they recount, as they draw on and on of his preferences, of his skills, of his temperament, telling stories of past dalliances and the like. They seem to know the game far better than I and are thus far more suited towards it. I have no intention of playing with them, nor His Majesty. I fear I have far too much respect for the both of us." Her gaze was cast to the side as she spoke, most likely because she knew he was staring at her. He seemed intrigued by her now, in a way that was not so friendly. His playful companion now stood quiet and that she found equally worrisome.

"Then why are you here?" he asked.

"I am here to meet His Majesty of course, to have tea, to eat cake, and converse, and most likely be of utterly no consequence to anyone. Any ambition other than that has never been mine. If His Majesty finds my company wasteful, then it can be no other way regardless of the particular facade I don, for fate will have already deemed it thus. I am here, quite simply, because I was asked to come, because someone took the time to scribe my name on an invitation that could have otherwise been sent to anyone." She peered up to find him grinning, to find the expression quite favorable upon him. Her reaction, however, was not as it should have been. Instead of reciprocating, her brow knitted and she became defensive. Realizing he must have offended her, he did his best to force the smirk away.

"_Heh_, the words you speak are hypocritical. You do not wish to waste his time yet the only reason you are here is as a courtesy? You look down on such an event yet plan to indulge in all its fancies? Forgive me...can you blame me if I also find that questionable?" he asked, genuinely amused. He hadn't expected that, hadn't expected her to be so earnest in saying it. He might even say he was affected. He simply couldn't help making things difficult for her. What an interesting woman this was.

"When you put it like that I suppose I am a hypocrite...I-I know what I say may sound contrary...but that is how I truly feel. Although we have never met, I greatly respect His Majesty. I am thankful he invited me personally. I did not want to dishonor him by refusing his invitation...however neither do I want to deceive him by pretending to fawn and love him as all the others do. We have never even met. It is...certainly a dilemma. Of course you find it questionable and that is something that saddens me. However, I do not require you to believe me." Perhaps she was too forward with that last line but it was too late. She was growing tired of this jesting, talking her in circles as if they were mocking her for her sincerity. The man quirked a brow to her most challengingly, little did she know he was actually quite taken aback.

"Tell me then, what do you plan to do when you finally meet? Assuming of course you do not wither away here with the likes of us?" he asked. When she peered up, he was surprised by how serious her expression had become.

"I plan to thank him for his time, to apologize for being late, and to bid him a kind farewell when he inevitably leaves."

"Presumptuous are you not? Deciding his actions for him. What would happen, by chance, if he does not leave?"

Her brow drew in response to his question. He was toying with her again, but in all honesty that was something she'd never even considered. She noticed a quick flinch from the man on the right, as if he was surprised by what his companion had said, and she peered over to find him staring in what appeared to be disbelief. She became worried then, but why she had no idea.

"I…" she started and stared at him, only him, her gaze deep and vexed. He was grinning, his mouth curling on one side ever-so-coyly, yet she saw truth in his eyes, his seriousness, bitterness, and the laden anticipation of disappointment. She tore her eyes away from such a look, away from someone who saw through her so plainly. "I highly doubt that would happen. There are...far more suitable prospects than I," she said, her eyes lowering to the floor as a sad little smile curled her lips. She shrugged and, resigning herself to fate, peered up again with a hollow smile. "Perhaps I should get going then...You've gotten me thinking and the least I could do is appreciate the effort gone into planning this event. It...it is rude to hide like this."

The man's eyes narrowed as he watched her give in to her insecurity and he frowned in response to such a weak display. She truly was a hypocrite...

"I see…" he mumbled, the smile falling from his face in kind. His companion saw this, saw how fascinating it was, and couldn't help but intervene.

"Well then, by your command we must get going," he said, snapping his fingers to earn her attention. She looked up and drew her brow but did nothing else when he took her arm in his and spun them around.

"E-excuse me? Going where?" she asked, simply watching as he reached out and opened the door. It led to a narrow corridor, the end of which shone bright with the bleak silhouettes of merry go-getters.

"To the festivity of course! Surely your efforts are not wholly wasted, and I have a feeling His Majesty will take kindly to you."

"What?" She had enough time to peer back at the second gentleman before being quite literally flung into the hall. She stumbled over her dress, turning around quickly in confusion. "But- who-"

"On behalf of the Goblin Kingdom, do enjoy yourself as our guest. We will be sure to see you soon."

* * *

And with that the door promptly slammed shut in her face. She stood there for a moment in the darkness, silent and utterly flabbergasted. _What-what peculiar fellows they were! Of all the… _She couldn't decide if she should be amused or frightened. That'd happened so suddenly. She wasn't sure how to feel. Honestly, who were those men? She had a feeling she ought to know. So curious they were...

Still pondering, she turned around to face the light. She could hear music, laughter, smell the scent of food and wine. Was that really it? Perhaps she could just slip in without anyone noticing. She continued to ponder their conversation, scrunching her brow and glancing back as she debated whether or not to chase after them. Was there a reason the younger fellow had gotten rid of her so quickly? Why did he look so amused in doing so? The other man...why did he look so sad?

Turning away, she thought it best to simply put the whole affair out of her mind. She'd finally found her way after all. It was time to do what she'd come here for.

As she walked towards the room, one last thought popped into her head. During all her fluster she'd completely forgotten to ask their names.

* * *

The man stepped away from the door once he was sure she would not reopen it and turned to his companion with a wicked smile.

"Well that one was interesting!"

The man with the grimace looked away, his brow drawing to glower.

"I suppose. Though extremely naive."

"The more ignorant the better, I say," he responded, folding his arms and turning away. He continued to spy on him however, observing the troubled look that refused to leave his friend's face. "I think you liked her," he added, smiling mischievously when a quick glare was his response. It was almost immediately however that the look changed. It softened in his eyes but became sharp in his grin.

"Perhaps ...I think you did as well."

"Well, of course I did."

"In that case...I'll be sure to have some fun with her." His grin stretched to a more familiar playfulness as he laughed, and together they turned to walk back into the darkness.

* * *

As hoped, her entrance into the room went considerably unnoticed. She was careful, of course overly conspicuous but nonetheless safe. She glanced back and saw the doorway was framed quite literally, a gilded picture frame in lieu of a door. _How interesting,_ she thought. She looked up and, like a salon, found that the entire wall was fitted with canvases. She smiled as she gazed over it, finding that not only clever but somewhat romantic, as if she and her companions were just another painting coming to life.

She slipped amidst her company easily, none of them had any care to mind her, and glanced around. The entire room was alive with various manners of cajoling. There were couches and tables and chaises, a balcony and even a floor for dancing. Every part fully utilized by what she'd come to know as beings of a finer eloquence. Such grace and poise did they have, such gentle smiles and voices, as if they knew she was watching, or rather were hoping that someone would be.

As she marveled at it all, it was almost hard to believe the rest of the castle had been so empty. You would never guess from all the commotion in this one room. There were several dozen women at least, goblin servants scurrying between them, a few high-born gents set to keep the peace. Now this was something more familiar to her. A setting that should have brought her ease. She'd been told when she arrived that the king did not like too many guests. That was why they were escorted alone, without envoys. She was suspicious of course but perhaps that made sense…

And now she'd finally arrived. She was here and unscathed and unscolded. Yet after so much preparation and fretting her excitement faded and, very quickly it seemed, somehow it all felt so...distant, unwelcoming even. Perhaps it was her conversation with the dour duo that had roused such feelings...

Being in this room was like stepping into another world compared the drab darkness of the hall. The walls were painted, the moulding gilded, the furniture neat and finely crafted. There was no dust here, no weathered stone. No glitter through the sunshine. Amidst these things so common to her, that one observation she found to be unanimously depressing. There was such evidence of luxury and affluence...was she the only one who thought it out of place? It all seemed so constructed ...fake.

There was no history here. At least, none that anyone cared to see. The more she watched, the more she saw the_ farce_ for what it was. This place was artifice, a cage designed to keep its inhabitants ignorant and otherwise blissful and indeed they were. Oh how they laughed, how they smiled and blinked so slowly. The scene was like a painting in its duplicity, each one claimed authenticity, each one feigning life.

Indeed it was a festivity, for the show put on was grand and well executed. All these women...the masks they wore were not intended for the fancy of each other, of course not, they were intended for His Majesty and for the many men amongst them who caught their eye and brushed their shoulders in reward for such cultured acts of desperation. There were a few of them she noticed, scattered about the epicenters of every horde. Who were they? Were they like the men in the hall? Emissaries? Ambassadors? Servants even? She understood how overwhelming it might be for His Majesty to entertain so many vying prospects alone. These men were meant to serve as a buffer, high nobles of equal repute no doubt, to hold the attention of the masses while the king prowled and pounced. She wondered then which was which? Who was the king and who knew of this? Surely those women who recognized him would stay close to his side? But then again, they would not want to reveal such knowledge would they? But try to monopolize him at their discretion. From her alien perspective it was impossible to tell. Should she even bother trying?

She walked from one side of the room to the other as she thought. She was meant to join in, to rotate in circuit and showcase her particular power of seduction. So tedious that was, and so disgusting were they, clamoring around and throwing themselves at strangers in the effort to gain something that was for all intents and purposes inconsequential to them. What would this marriage give them that they did not already have? Wealth? Power? Prestige? None that was new to them. No, it would gain them a crown, simply put. Did they have any interest in the man who wore it? Had they stopped to think why such a man would put on such an obnoxious rouse? She could see now why they called it a farce. And yet she'd been so worried in coming here.

By now she was frowning, standing alone at one end of the room. Deeply sobered, she turned and faced the paintings. While the scenes before her were ideally suited and similar to the scenes behind her, she found these ironically to be more genuine, more beautiful and with just a faint allusion to the compassion her own scene lacked. Perhaps the man was right. Perhaps she shouldn't have bothered in coming.

There was a sound of a door opening and she peered over to it reflexively. Another group of women entered, looking around with the same sense of excitement she initially had. How long, she wondered, until that brightness dimmed? Would they notice it at all?

She watched them as they moved as a group to stand in a line before the door, and this pegged her attention further. Her eyes roamed down the line until she caught a glimpse of a gentleman standing to the end of them. He had his back to her, but she could see he held a chart of some sort. He would speak and the women would speak back and she realized he must be taking their names. She should probably join them, she thought. She'd finally made it all the way there and it didn't seem like she'd missed much.

Without a word she took a place at the end of the row, wallowing in a queer sense of disappointment. She spotted some of the women from her group up ahead. They were laughing and drinking merrily. There was a man sitting next to them and her eyes narrowed on the hand he used to caress their necks. They'd completely forgotten about her, hadn't they? As if she'd never existed...

"_Ahem_."

Startled, she peered up quickly and blinked from her daze. The man taking toll was before her now, staring down at his chart impatiently. Oh dear. How long had she been daydreaming? He was quite prompt wasn't he? She looked around and saw that she was the only one left in line.

"Your name?" the man asked, his tone low and vaguely agitated. She imagined that was how they all felt, knowing that while these droves of fair maidens admired and preened and threw themselves utterly, none of them cared for any such suitor in the slightest. Why they bothered attacking anyone but His Majesty, she wasn't sure. Perhaps to them it was all the same.

"My name?" she repeated, still somewhat dazed by the dystopian revelry. She immediately sensed his impatience however and flicked her eyes back towards him.

She hadn't expected him to look up as well, hadn't expected their gazes to lock. She opened her mouth to speak but her voice suddenly left her and she inhaled sharply at the strange twist that climbed up her chest. She caught his gaze widen and sharpen and she drew back in return. Her mouth was still open but she could not conquer this feeling, this inexplicable shudder. She'd never seen eyes so beautiful, the deepest emerald green.

She took in another breath and drew her brow, watching his eyes lower to her lips as she bit them.

"M-my name sir?" she repeated and felt her shoulders tremble. "It's...It is ...Aurelia."

* * *

He realized he was staring and quickly tore his eyes away. Clenching his jaw, he swallowed hard and scowled down at his chart.

"Aurelia you say?" he repeated, already chastising himself for the waver he could hear in his own voice. She was still staring at him, staring at him so blatantly. None of the others had such a daring gaze. None of the others were so beautiful. And yet he'd approached her without hesitation.

"Yes. From Yore. My father is Emalyuss, Duke of Seerva'nah," she said, and again her voice begged his attention. He peered up just slightly, just enough to see her gulp and lower her gaze. He quickly took down her name.

"I see...From Yore...That means you're late."

"Oh yes, but I didn't mean it!"

He was startled when she reached out for him, perhaps too startled by the way she recoiled immediately after. He glared up but the strange panic about him refused to abate. Her fingers were curling then quickly went back to her side.

"Forgive me...that was much too forward." she said, her voice now subdued. Her lips were pursed, so round and pink. He caught himself staring at her again.

She didn't quite know what to do. This was no way to conduct herself...She was just so...unprepared. Who was this man? He was more formal than all the rest, his dark hair slicked back on the sides, his gloves and boots neatly polished. He wore a vest and a coat, the sigil of the Goblin Kingdom prominently displayed. He stared at her with such seriousness and he...perhaps ...no. Could _he _be the king? Her father had told her nothing, only his name, but that was not something she could blatantly ask for under such circumstances. She started to bite the inside of her lip again, deeply worried she'd made a poor impression.

"W-why were you late?" he asked, clearing his throat before he spoke. Aurelia looked up but this time he kept his gaze strictly away.

"It...it is no fair excuse really, one of sheer foolishness. A goblin had stolen the favor I intended to give to His Majesty you see and...I saw fit to pursue. I got a bit lost in the lower levels. It took me some time to find my way." She felt deeply guilty all of a sudden as she recounted her tale, making herself a perfect hypocrite for threatening to idle away in the hall. If she hadn't chatted with those men she would have been here a great deal sooner. Perhaps then this stranger wouldn't look down on her with such hard eyes. She wondered, then, why in the world she cared so much.

"I see...well, you made it on your own and that is no small feat." She looked up from the floor with an impulsive, beaming smile and the man visibly recoiled. That smile...it was sure to ruin him. It took him another moment to compose himself. "You haven't missed much. This gathering will last for quite some time. Please, do relax and enjoy yourself."

It took her a moment to respond and by the knitting of his brow she realized they were both just staring again. She looked away and blinked furiously.

"O-of course. Thank you. Again I apologize for my tardiness and...thank you for having me." She lowered her head but resisted the unexpected urge to bow, instead she turned away swiftly and left. For some reason she could not compose herself. She trekked to the far side of the room and did not stop until there was nowhere left to go. Facing the wall she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. This feeling...what in the world? She had no idea what had come over her just then but all she could think about was his face and the way he judged her, the way she hoped she had been seen. How vulgar of her. She scolded herself over and over but still the thought remained. _That man...why do I want it to be him?_

* * *

Time passed, perhaps an hour or so, maybe five. She couldn't tell. All the while she'd been searching for him, that beautiful man she'd met, waiting anxiously for his company. After they'd parted only one more group arrived. After taking their attendance it seemed he was free to join the rest of them. She became excited. Maybe she would get the chance to speak with him again. She kept spying on him, discreetly of course, or perhaps not. She kept herself confined to a couch, content to watch the flaunting of empty promises unfold.

Several men approached her and while she entertained them civilly her disinterest in them was made readily apparent. For whatever reason, none of the other women would join her and so the suitors left one after another. She did not mind this. In fact she preferred it. She had no intention of flattering them.

She kept her eyes close to that man, the man with the dark hair and eyes. Was it purely physical? Was she simply startled by her attraction? He looked so very young. His black hair cut short, a messy curl or two falling in the front. He wore all black as well, shiny metal accents on his boots and belt. It was probably unwise to observe him so closely. She was supposed to be finding His Majesty, wasn't she? The way his sharp eyebrows twitched when a woman spoke left her feeling unsettled and shameful. She was sure it wasn't intentional but he always kept a fair amount of distance between them. He never sat, he never danced. He merely stood and conversed, and only when spoken to first.

She was jealous of the women that approached him so effortlessly. She told herself she was one in the same, that she had every right to approach him, to laugh and flutter her lashes and touch his arm as teasingly as they did…

And yet she did not. Was it sheer nerves? Shame? She wasn't sure. All she knew was that seeing him had confined the most aggressive of butterflies in her stomach and the strength it might take to simply approach him and risk rousing it further would be the end of her. And so she sat, minding her own and pretending to wonder at all of the lovely visages...

"Um, excuse me?"

She was staring at a painting hanging on the wall next her to her when he spoke. Another false suitor she assumed. She took her time in answering him.

"Yes?"

She looked up and blanched, the hand her jaw had been resting on lowering as she sat up straight. Her eyes widened, though she prayed she concealed it well.

"I noticed you've been alone for quite some time. ...May I join you?"

He was staring down at her, his dark green eyes boring deep, his brow knitted with worry it seemed. She clenched her jaw and shifted slightly, glancing to the cushion she intended him to take.

"Of course. By all means," she said, sitting so rigidly as he sat beside her. This wasn't good. She wasn't expecting this. From his statement, it would imply that he had been watching her as well. Had he seen her staring? She peered over and feigned proper poise, folding her hands neatly in her lap. She was so caught off guard...she could have sworn he was just on the other side of the room. "Are you enjoying the reception?"

"As much as one can," he responded, shifting his coat to sit more comfortably. He kept a healthy distance between them but still she could feel his heat, smell his faint scent. She wanted to lean closer, but could she dare? Why did the desire to just brush his sleeve feel so scandalous?

"I understand, sadly. How much longer will this go on?"

"Hard to say, until I feel like throwing them all out I suppose."

He didn't seem to be joking and she stared at him long enough to tell. Did he really have that authority? Surely that was a hint no? Perhaps she should have inquired more into His Majesty's description. At the very least the color of his hair. At the time such things...didn't matter to her.

"I noticed you had quite the crowd gathered around you. Have you found any of them to be queen material?" she asked, playfully, though hid her face in her cup when he turned to face her.

"I suppose any of them will do," he said, with a rather neutral inflection. She found that curious.

"In that case, why invite so many?"

He glanced at her then, from the side of his eye. It was a quick gesture, one she barely noticed. She was smiling, a faint curl of the lips. He became lost in that smile. If only for a moment.

"The more the merrier...as they say." His voice trailed off and she tilted her head slightly. His gaze had become somewhat wayward. Like he was lost in a thought.

"I see. You must be pleasantly merry then."

She turned away and gazed out over the crowd, content just to have him near. He continued to stare at her, his eyes running along the contour of her profile, the elegant curve of her nose, the sharp arch of her upper lip. Her hair fell in tumbles of golden curls. They shone and reflected the bleak desert light so brightly.

"Actually…" and his voice trailed off. "I've been rather bored." She turned back to him with a raised brow.

"Is that so?"

"Yes. I find I don't fancy any of these women. Not that it matters." This time he held her gaze and she thought perhaps there was something more poignant he meant to convey, sadly she had not the ability to discern it and only glanced away.

"I see...A tragedy then."

"Yes. We've held about five of these events already and still none have stood out."

"And here I thought any of them would do? Perhaps His Majesty has a preference after all."

"Yes...perhaps. Perhaps he simply...does not know what that preference is."

Her eyes peered back to him most shrewdly, though not shrewdly enough for they locked onto his immediately. His expression had become stern. It was like he was inspecting her, the contemplation behind his eyes readily apparent. She wondered if he realized how strongly he directed it at her.

"P-perhaps it's the presentation then?" she asked, becoming flustered for just a moment before tearing her eyes away again. She sat up taller, held her chin higher. He couldn't even tell her smile was forced.

"Presentation?"

"Yes. If the king is looking for a wife, perhaps he should meet some of them in a more authentic setting."

"Is that not a waste of time? At least here intentions are made clear," he said, turning away from her to search over the crowd.

"...I suppose. One could regard such deception as the most sincere. However I do not believe love should be a competition. It is...so very sad."

"Such is the way of things, I'm afraid. Do not mistake me, your words would be wise...if the king was actually looking for a wife."

"Pardon?" When she turned back to him there was a slight frown on her face. Apparently she was genuinely surprised by such a revelation. He hated himself in that moment, for being the one to hamper that smile.

"You are right. Love should not be a competition and indeed it is not. Your sympathies are misplaced if you think what he seeks and what they offer is_ love, _or even the faint guise of it for that matter," he said, though she only stared at him confusedly. "I...get the impression that what he's looking for is a means. The king cannot be coronated until he has married a queen, you know. He has little interest in a conventional wife, more so in his own ambition. Under the circumstances, I don't think one could blame him."

"I see...how unfortunate for them. Why then does the decision matter at all?" She was hoping, praying actually, that speaking in the third person was merely a tactic, that he was being discreet with his identity, that this really was the man she was supposed to be swooning for. The look on his face had become so very sad. Like he had already given up. She hated it. She'd never hated anything at all.

"I can't...rightly say."

She frowned at his response and he frowned even deeper to see it was because of him. He quickly looked away and steeled his expression.

"Forgive me, I should not say such things. I'm sure you were excited for the prospect…and here I am souring the mood." His voice slowly tapered off with skepticism. What the hell was he saying? Was he actually telling her her efforts were in vain? Why would he do that? He should be evaluating her for Jareth, not steering her away like this...All he knew was how uncomfortable he'd become, how the thought of her as a candidate brought fear and anxiety to the pit of his stomach. He wanted her to frown, to lower her eyes from the allure of_ the king_. If she lowered her gaze.._.it might fall on him_. What? Did he really just think of something so profane? He'd never thought something so selfish. He'd never felt something so shameful.

"No, I appreciate your honesty."

He turned his worried gaze back to find her smiling at him most pleasantly. Her round eyes shone bright, her head tilted ever so slightly. He fisted his hands in his lap.

"Are you not disappointed? Surely you expected more from the King of Goblins?"

He was nearly squirming now. Staving it fiercely. This woman was not here for him. He had no right to say such things. Was he merely afraid? Afraid of what might happen? Why was he so ambivalent? The more he thought, the more he realized she was the last person he wanted to be queen. What in gods' blazes was coming over him?

"On the contrary I expected nothing. Now however, I believe I understand. I once felt sympathy for the king, having to be surrounded by so many superficial suitors. But if what you say is true, then it would seem they are in fact well-suited. Now I only pity him."

He looked over to find her staring straight ahead, a minor glower concealed behind the brim of her tea cup. The tension in her brow was so faint, yet it set his heart racing. Had he done something to offend her? Were his words too forward? Should he apologize?

"Ah-I'm sorry-"

"Hm? For what?"

The look she glanced back at him with was innocent, leaving him fumbling for the right words. Had he misinterpreted her? Why was he panicking? Was that the wrong thing to say?

"I-uh…"

"Well, look who it is!"

Both Aurelia and her companion peered over as a man rudely interrupted his stuttering. Her eyes went wide and for a moment she sat back.

"Y-it's you!"

She blinked furiously as the man she'd come to refer to as _the one of the left _stepped forward and threw himself into the seat between them without preamble. Both she and the dark haired stranger inched back, trying to awkwardly make room as the chipper blond fellow outstretched his arms wide around both their shoulders. She was about to gasp at such audacity but her nerves kept her as quiet as a mouse.

"I say, I don't believe I ever asked your name," he said, smiling so boyishly he seemed like another person entirely. He was staring straight at her, ignoring her companion completely. He seemed to be in a much better mood than when they'd met in the hall. She sat up straighter and composed herself.

"And neither did you offer me yours," she countered, raising her brow though keeping the rest of her expression guarded. He turned towards her and extended an arm along the back of the couch even further, a gesture her eyes followed coyly.

"Ah but that would ruin the game now wouldn't it?"

"I told you I have no intention of playing," she said, pretending to turn her nose up at him. She spied on the other man as she did so, only to become confused at the way he grimaced so petulantly. The blond man saw all of this and smiled further.

"Aurelia, is it not?" She turned back to him slowly. "Pardon me, I could not help but inquire," he added, throwing her a wink as he leaned back against the couch. With his profile out of the way she stole another glimpse of the man behind him. He was staring hard at the floor.

"Hardly fair. You have me at a disadvantage," she said, warily.

"I have everyone at a disadvantage," he replied, though it was more of a grumble- "Ah, and where are you going exactly?" He spoke up as the man by his side begrudgingly stood to take his leave. She noticed the blond man's smile then, how intent it was. She didn't quite like it. There was more to it than what let on. With worry, she brought her gaze to her companion, fearful he might actually leave.

"Forgive me...I assumed my presence was no longer needed."

"No longer needed?" she interjected. The man's gaze caught hers though quickly shifted away. She didn't like that either. Didn't like that she'd caused such a reaction. The man on the couch rolled his head back to her, his legs crossing leisurely as one foot bounced cheerfully.

"It isn't wise to leave a Lady's company without being first dismissed, you of all people should know that _Roldan_."

W-what?

"...Of course. Please Madame, your forgiveness. I meant no offense, it is not my wish to bother you any longer." The tone of his voice had changed dramatically and it caused a flurry of panic to rise quickly in Aurelia's chest. She was still bewildered. Still awestruck. Still so incredibly...disappointed. Her brow furrowed on him and then sagged. Again he looked away, the glimmer she'd once seen now smothered from his gaze.

"N-no apology is necessary. You were not a bother sir-Roldan was it? No, not in the slightest." She saw his ear tense as his jaw locked, though she could only misinterpret the reason why. He bowed to her then and her heart sank to the pit of her stomach. He kept his gaze away from her now. Purposefully.

"You have my gratitude then. It was a pleasure to be in your company. Please excuse me."

She watched silently as he walked away, as he turned his back to her without a second glance. Her brow was so deeply worried; she should have been more self aware. The man beside her however only smiled wider. It seemed he had something quite pertinent on his mind.

"I think he likes you," he said, earning a sharp and feverish look. Her cheeks blushed immediately, something she was just as quick in subduing. She glanced away, her lower lip protruding slightly as she pouted.

"You are quite brazen Sir, some may even call it crass. But alas, where did you and that other fellow go? Do you work in shifts or?" she asked, overtly changing the subject. The man tilted his head slightly in response. His sense of connivery far too stimulated. So, she still hadn't figured it out?

"No...I simply got tired of it. T'is tedious work after all, enduring all these women." He cast her an eye and ran a hand through his hair, making sure the gesture caught her attention. Her eyes found him just as his looked away. It was the left side of his scalp that was shaved and thus facing her, leaving her to admire his strong profile.

"Yes, I imagine it is. For His Majesty most of all." She'd turned her gaze back to the crowd, forcefully it seemed. She was too shaken to risk their gazes locking.

"What makes you say that? Surely His Majesty loves it. He is after all the object of their affections."

"Object of their ambitions, maybe. I see nothing affectionate in the scene before me, nor the appeal in being rendered an object," she said, frowning just slightly. Little did he know, she was busy trying to find the man he called Roldan. He'd disappeared into the crowd quite quickly. Why? Why was she even pondering this? She was supposed to be meeting the king and his name...his name was…

The man leaned towards her a little, highly intrigued.

"So steadfast you are in those contrary-convictions of yours. Still determined to_ not _win over his heart?"

"Your rhetoric is quite shrewd sir; no I am not determined in one way or another, but of course you already know that." She peered over with a slight scowl, one completely unintentional. She needed to get ahold of herself. She thought he may be teasing her again but she couldn't muster her guard.

"Indeed..."

"That man...you said his name was Roldan?" she asked, turning her beam of a stare directly at him. For a moment it caught him off guard, as he realized only now that all the while she hadn't been paying attention to him in the slightest.

"Yes...did he not introduce himself?" he asked, teasingly. Aurelia peered down, a faint sense of guilt pulling her features.

"No...it was my fault really. I should have asked. I simply didn't want to be rude, and I have a terrible tendency to miss my cue. I had just assumed…"

"Assumed?"

She was about to explain when another strange voice called out to them.

"Ah! There you are. I might've known you'd seek her out."

Both Aurelia and the fair-haired stranger looked up to meet the even fairer-haired _man on the right_. He dropped down to one knee and took her hand.

"Aurelia is a lovely name. And apt I'm sure."

"Apt?" she repeated, eyeing him strangely as he rose and took the seat on the other side of her.

"Of course. The Aurelia of the moon no? Sublime creatures, land-jellyfish some call them. Bewitching in their beauty, but not without a deadly sting."

What? What was he talking about? Was that a compliment? She was trying to keep up with their fervid energies, yet still she could not focus, still trying to wrap her head around the disillusionment that that man was not the king...

"You are trying too hard, brother."

"Brother?"

Her gaze darted sharply to her right, to her left, to both the men who kept her caged so cordially.

"Why yes. Did you not know?"

She gaped plainly at the man on the right, ironically seated on her left. He stared at her with such a smug grin. Conniving it was, the both of them.

"No...no I-"

"There is a great deal it seems she does not know," interrupted the elder brother. "For instance. I think she actually thought Roldan was king."

"Wait, really?!"

"Excuse me?" Her voice rang with offense as the younger brother burst into laughter. She shifted away from him, not noticing the tapping of the other man's fingers as his arm encircled her shoulders a little more.

"Oh gods...Forgive me, Milady. I did not expect to laugh so hard," he said, glancing down as he pretended to wipe away a tear from his eye. "I mean no offense really. Jareth, are you not terribly insulted?"

Jareth?

"No. I find it quite amusing actually. I was watching him make a fool of himself for so long. I couldn't help but see him scamper off!"

"Wait- you're-" and her eyes rose to his with sudden alarm "Your...Majesty?" The man's smile broadened greatly as the realization lit up her eyes.

He tilted his head towards her, narrowing his gaze as he whispered, "Do you remember our conversation in the hall? About what you would do when you finally met the king? I dare say, you are a terrible liar." There was a dastardly glimmer in his eye as he grinned, but she had not the time to ponder it as she burst into a fit of repentance.

"I-I I am so sorry! Please forgive me Your Majesty. I-I did not mean to insult you! I didn't-I didn't know! Please, please forgive me!" A few of the women turned their glances back as she stood and bowed deeply, and no sooner did their fans raise to cover their mouths as they snickered.

With more room on the couch, Jareth eased back and relaxed his posture further.

"Heh, what are you panicking now for? Had you not prepared so many other things to say?"

Aurelia blinked dumbly. She was making a fool of herself, she could see it all unfolding into bitter catastrophe. Yet what was she to do?!

"Y-yes. I mean ...I apologize for my tardiness. Thank you for inviting me, your castle is lovely-"

"I thought you had no intention of flattering me?"

She froze and a widened gaze joined her furrowed brow as she stood still bowing towards the floor. For gods' sake, this was no way for a lady to act. She knew this. There were eyes on her all around. Why, why was her only hope that that man -_Roldan_\- didn't see her like this?

"Jareth, come now, you're just torturing the poor girl." She peered up at the other man, his brother,_ the king's brother_, and gaped. He was smiling wryly as well, though there was a hint of honest pity in his eyes. He waited for their gazes to lock before continuing. "Please excuse him. He can be a bit of a boor at times. Come sit with me instead. I'll treat you much more kindly."

"You...and you are His Highness Prince Davion?" she asked, ignoring his offer completely.

"That title on your lips makes it sound so much more noble than it really is," he said, giving her an innocent smile as she stared at him. She was still riddled with bewilderment, so much that it had Jareth misinterpreting her expression. He rose a brow and stared at the gaze that was not staring back at him.

"Well?"

Her head darted back at the sound of impatience in the king's voice. He looked disgruntled now, watching her intently. Oh dear, she really had made an atrocious mistake, hadn't she?

"E-excuse me?"

"I asked you didn't I? What would happen should the king not leave? You were so quick to decide my actions; though unlike my brother here, I have no intention of leaving." His gaze sharpened as it lowered and glanced to the side. It seemed there was a moment of dialogue that passed between them, for wordlessly the man called Davion cracked another smirk, stood from his seat and left without the slightest fuss. Aurelia's eyes followed after him, deeply troubled by how ominous her situation had just become.

"...You have been mocking me then. This entire time."

"No. Only just now."

"You are cruel to toy with my sensibilities. I must beg you, why did you not introduce yourself?" she asked, then immediately realized her tone and withdrew to frown at the floor. She should not raise her voice to the king...she should not raise her voice at all.

"You did not ask." She peered up instinctively as he shifted in his spot. "I see you pouting, yet you were the one who spoke without inhibition to two total strangers."

"...And you allowed me to carry on. Am I to be punished for such impertinence?" she asked. Her shoulders were tensing already. How many lashings would she receive for this? A hundred? Two?

"Punished? On what grounds?" he countered, and again Aurelia could not stop herself from gaping up at him. "I prefer honesty. And honestly, I found our conversation to be rather refreshing. Tell me, did you truly not wish to come here?"

Her mouth opened then closed. She wasn't sure what to say or how to act. Was he still testing her? Surely she would be reprimanded for her deplorable behavior?

"I...do not wish to insult His-"

"I don't care if you insult me. I asked you a question."

She flinched at the seriousness in his voice and subconsciously fisted her hands out in front of her. Her eyes were locked on his, the most audacious act imaginable. She wanted to respond but could only bite her cheek. She was still standing awkwardly in front of him. People were probably starting to gossip. In shame, or rather for her own reprieve, she lowered her eyes and carefully took the seat next to him.

"...No. No I did not wish to journey here," she said, keeping her voice hushed so others could not hear. "I believe one should marry for love, not convenience."

"What about this situation is convenient?" he retorted, again catching her off guard. His hand gripped the back of the couch slightly and she recoiled from the surprise of how close to touching her he was. He found himself sighing then and leaned forward towards her even more. "I notice you have been looking around. What do you see?"

She blinked frantically at his proximity, at how overtly he was trying to unnerve her. She knew immediately that he enjoyed it, that this was part of his _game_. She also knew that when women trembled before him it was probably for one particular reason, did he realize she was trembling because of something else entirely?

"I see a cage," she responded, swallowing her nerves and staring out over the crowd. "I see a chest full of toys and paintings devoid of subjects."

"Hm. You and I have a similar eye." There was a slight curl to his lips as he spoke, something she noticed as she spied him discreetly from her peripheral. "To tell you the truth, I'm growing very tired of these gatherings."

"Huh? Why?" She found herself asking without thinking, revealing a curiosity that made him smile wider.

"None of this interests me," he responded, turning to look down at her wide expression. For just a moment she didn't care that their gazes locked.

"Is that why you were in the hall? Trying to escape?"

He seemed to pause before responding. His eyes flickered down but it was a gesture as contemplative as it was lewd. Somehow, she knew better than to presume the former.

"Heh, if only for a moment."

"...Then why do you do it?"

"Is that a real question?" he asked, shifting his posture and probably moving in closer. "I am in need of a wife, remember?"

"Because you cannot be coronated until you marry?"

"So it would seem."

His arm was fully around her by this point, his forearm draping over her shoulder. She didn't care that he was touching her; as shocking as it should have been, his proximity to her only became less intimidating. Plainly stated, she had far too much on her mind to be phased by his lechery.

"Then...why does it matter?" Her gaze had fallen to her lap and become sullen. Jareth stared after her, his head tilting just slightly. Her brow furrowed deeply, those golden locks obscuring much of it from him. "Aren't you being awfully considerate towards something that should be no less trivial than a stepping stone?" And now he himself frowned, the arm he held behind her neck starting to pull away reflexively.

"I suppose you're right. I could simply pick and be done with it."

"Unless the matter means more to you than you care to admit," she stated, turning to glance up at him with intrigue. That stare of hers, it was so narrow and focused, it seemed to shoot straight through him, leaving him bemused to the fact that somehow the tables were suddenly turned and he was the one squirming from her proximity. "It would be nice to love the person you are to spend the remainder of your days with, no?"

"I'm not in a position to concern myself with love," he said, pulling his arm away from her and shifting to a more appropriate position. Aurelia tilted her head, for some reason he seemed apprehensive.

"Then perhaps companionship? You yourself just admitted you would still prefer something interesting did you not? Is that not why you are bored? Because you're looking for someone who at the very least captures your interest?"

This time he cracked a smile. He couldn't help it. This woman was so odd. He couldn't gauge her.

"...Perhaps."

"There is no shame in that. Even if it is just a stepping stone. You never know, you could even come to cherish that stone one day. For you know, amongst the millions of pebbles in the world no two are formed the same...Then again, people are not pebbles, so perhaps I am wrong. But even still, one must choose carefully."

A peculiar grin formed on Jareth's lips as he watched her speak. She spoke assuredly, completely unaware of how ridiculous she sounded. So innocent. He was actually amused. But more than that, he was actually listening. Behind the nerves and awkwardness there was real wisdom in this woman wasn't there? Did she even realize it? Apparently not, if the way her brow rose when she turned to face him was any indication. This time, his eyes felt compelled to lower.

"Hmph, you're quite the romantic, aren't you?"

"Of course I am. I pity those who are anything else. What is this fantastic place without romance? A wasteland. Nothing more." His grin spread wider.

"A void filled with delusion then? That is a very childish way to view the world."

"Yes it is. I suspect one day it shall be my greatest downfall."

"Spoken like a true _Romantic_." He peered up as she quirked her brow, his gaze looking slightly past her. He couldn't help it. He was distracted now. There was something so unfamiliar about her; what once he found refreshing now left him exposed, as if he'd never before had a conversation so plain, never one so...unencumbered.

"Indeed. And, from one romantic to another-"

"Another?" he interjected, having to stifle a faint laugh.

"Yes. If I may be so bold, Your Majesty, I do not think you are quite as pessimistic as you seem."

"My, you must be very naive indeed."

* * *

Davion stood at the back of the room. He would never admit it, but Jareth's posturing had struck a bit of a nerve. How irksome. He only acted like that when women were around, when _he_ was the one receiving attention. And here he was thinking they could share that flighty blonde one. Oh well. There were plenty more to choose from…

He turned around to scour the scene and quirked a devilish brow at what his eyes landed on. _Look at him...How rude, sticking out like a sore thumb..._

"I say, what's got you looking so dour?" he asked, startling pitiful Roldan with a jab to the ribs after appearing across the room beside him. The poor thing, he nearly spilled his glass he was so pensive. Oh dear, what in the world could have gotten him so perturbed?

"Ah-excuse me, Your Highness-" he stammered, a reaction Davion took such delight in.

"Hm...have you seen my brother? I fear he's abandoned me," he asked, leaning obnoxiously against Roldan's shoulder as he gripped his chin. Roldan's eyes fluttered for a moment, forcing his gaze to the floor.

"No. I mean-yes. Yes he's...still conversing...with Lady Aurelia." Oh. That tone. Davion knew that tone. My my, what fun he was about to have.

"Really? I dare say they've been at it for quite a while then, aye? Perhaps he likes her. Wouldn't that be something?" he asked, teasingly. He could feel the tension in Roldan's posture and leaned against him further.

"Yes...I suppose it would-"

"Oh don't sound so glum. I'm sure you'll get your chance. After I get mine, of course. So long as you don't mind leftovers."

Davion's smile faded to find his goading met with stark silence. Little did he realize, Roldan had stopped paying attention to him completely, that annoyingly worried gaze of his cast back over the crowd. They really had been talking for a while, noticeably. But why was he worried? He had no reason to be. It was as if he was concerned for her safety. But...the fine details, the things he noticed. Not once had Jareth's hand risen to caress her shoulder or cheek. Not once had he leaned in with that grin, raked his eyes, kissed the top of her hand. She was_ safe_ from his prowling it seemed but…perhaps that was what worried him most of all. Instead he saw focus, attention, consideration in his posture. They were having an actual conversation. Why...why did that seem so much more dangerous...to him?

He was envious of how freely he spoke to her, how appropriate it was. It was a feeling unwelcome to him. He'd never been envious of Jareth, over anything for any reason. For all he'd endured, for all their fickle circumstances, he'd never once been resentful or bitter. And yet as he stared at them, that _quaint_ scene before him seemed more taunting than any lewd suggestion coming out of Davion's mouth.

And it was not his friend that made him bitter. It was the way she stared back at him. The way her eyes grew wide with earnest, with intrigue, with a light that he knew would never, in any lifetime, ever be meant for him.

The moment he saw them part ways brought immeasurable relief. He saw her alone once more and, as awful as it was, he hoped, no, prayed that she stayed that way.

* * *

An array of fine colour glinted and undulated, almost like a saturated vision of the sea. It twinkled and twankled and dangled almost to the floor as pearls and amethyst and emerald, citrine, ruby and sapphire. Or perhaps a garden, a flowerbed in perfect, pointilized hardened harmony -or something fancy like that.

Sarah stared as gem after precious gem was laid out before her, the table she looked down on displaying more wealth than she ever thought her plebeian eyes would behold. Gold and silver, necklaces and rings and fine interweavings, things someone of her position should be accustomed to wearing, and yet… She'd opened her mouth to speak several times, but the opulence was near overwhelming.

"And this I bought from a merchant my mother used to take me to when I was little. Oh! And this one is a gift from my aunt. This ring here was my grandmother's, my parents wanted you to have it with their goodwill. Oh and this one-"

"Um, Marie?"

"This was made with pearls collected from the reef just below my home, and oh- see the metalwork here? It's a trademarked style of the Maedaleyn islands, the region my father lords over. And this here-"

"Ah...Mariella?"

"Yes, yes, I know it's a lot but really I thought I was packing lightly. I just got so excited at the markets I tell you, and my family wanted to send you a plentiful offering. A thank you, really, for keeping me in your service. They have great admiration for you, oh and His Majesty as well, but really they wanted to please _you_. I kept telling them, 'oh no it's fine, she doesn't even wear jewelry!' But honestly I just wanted to pack more of my own findings. I imagine you're thankful I convinced my mother to keep my great great grandmother's wedding tiara!"

"MARIELLA!"

Marie paused and looked up. Through that entire rant she hadn't once stopped the conveyor belt that were her arms unloading, what Sarah considered to be, a quite ostentatious maritime bounty. She blinked a couple of times, as if confused by the intensity, or rather bewilderment, of Sarah's returning stare.

"Yes?"

"I think you're getting a little carried away here," Sarah said, eyeing the table between them literally overflowing with jewels. There was a trunk between them, still half loaded, which Marie's hands fiercely gripped. Mariella looked down again, as if just realizing the mess she'd made.

"Oh...I guess you're right," she said, and laughed.

It had been several days since Mariella departed for her hometown, a week, maybe even more. Sarah wasn't exactly keeping track. It was longer than planned, but that didn't matter to her so much as it did Marie, who'd been apologizing near incessantly. When she returned to the castle that morning her exclamation had breathed new vigor into the old castle walls. Sarah, minding her own business and loitering on a random balcony, had been caught pleasantly off guard by the resounding call of her name which grew suredly louder as Marie bounded to her -current trunk (and many other things) in tow. Sarah had turned around to be nearly knocked off her feet by a warm embrace, quite literally, as Sarah could still feel the heat of the ocean sun on Mariella's skin. It seemed the sunlight itself grew brighter, and she realized it was because she really did miss her.

However, Mariella's excitement did not abate; instead it seemed the connection of their stares sparked something long pent up as she took Sarah by the arms and with the biggest, beamingest, smile said: "I cannot wait to show you all the things I've brought for you."

And so here she was, bearing witness to all of the corporeal fancies which clearly this crazy woman had subconsciously bought for herself.

"So most of this is from your parents you say?" Sarah asked.

"Indeed. They were very excited for me to deliver them. I am to emphasize that each piece was hand chosen to show honor and deference to the queen." Her smile was giddy, with a slight bounce perking in her voice. It made Sarah smile too. She was glad Marie was also happy to be back.

"I see...I don't really know what to say. It's all so much."

"Yes, it is. I do apologize. I know these types of things aren't particularly in your interest. But this is what my home is known for. The islands are rich in gem deposits and house some of the most renowned artisans in Orpia."

"I see...Well, they're all really beautiful. You'll have to help me coordinate my wardrobe," Sarah said, giving her a reassuring smile. It wasn't that she didn't like being given such ridiculously expensive things, she was just genuinely overwhelmed by it. To Marie this all seemed commonplace, all the while Sarah couldn't stop wondering how much it all might be worth in the Aboveground. She'd never stopped to consider such a thing as affluence, or that it was something that would now be attributed to her. She was glad Jareth didn't push "proper" decorum.

"It would be my_ extreme _pleasure Sarah," Mariella said, and Sarah had to actually bring her eyes back to her in order to gauge if that was sarcasm. It wasn't.

"Hmph," she laughed softly to herself. "So tell me, now that we've gotten the_ important _business out of the way, how is your family?" Mariella chuckled at Sarah's banter and began distributing smaller boxes with a much calmer manner.

"They are well. My father pulled through, thankfully. I don't believe he was ever as sick as my mother described. She worries easily, you see. He was actually very surprised to see me and berated my mother for calling me away from my post!" Sarah grinned, imagining what the exchange must have been like. It seemed heartwarming, something normal in this anything-but world.

"I see, well that's good then. I'm glad you were able to relax a little after being away for so long."

"Yes, it turned out to be a rather pleasant trip. Oh, but enough about that. I want to hear all about the things that happened while I was away. You're a married woman now!"

And to that Sarah blanched. She blinked a couple of times and quickly realized that Marie had indeed been gone since the night of her wedding. For some reason that seemed so long ago. Holy heck, what had happened indeed.

She rolled her eyes as she pondered on where to start.

"Um, well…"

"And what do we have here?"

Both Sarah and Marie jumped as Jareth appeared from out of nowhere, literally, stealthily reaching around Sarah's shoulder. She felt his grip on her waist and turned her head to glance back at him.

"Jesus, can you not?" she asked, shifting her shoulder to accommodate his presence as he intruded into the scene. She felt his grip tighten playfully.

"Oh come now, I've come to like you just a little bit on edge," he said, a creeping grin and side-eye glancing at her as he reached down to inspect the finery. He was close to her, very close. Locks of his hair flittered across her cheek. She tried to ignore how good he smelled.

"You're a jerk. Why can't you just use the door like every other person who lives here?"

"I like the way you seize up when I touch you unexpectedly."

"_Har har,_ you're such a funny ass."

"Oh, an ass and a jerk? I must be on a roll today."

Mariella just stared in silence. She couldn't...quite believe what she was seeing exactly. Were they..._playing_ with each other? What? Were they really just smiling? Laughing together? Exchanging curse words without reproach?! She inhaled deeply and held her breath, hoping to just fade away and continue to watch in omnipotence what was happening before her. Sarah was laughing just now. And so was Jareth. Laughing. And they were close, touching one another, WITH AFFECTION. What in the bloody hell had happened while she was gone?! The last time she saw Sarah she was on the brink of utter despair as she wandered off down the dark, clouded path of matrimony. But this...oh, she was about to burst from the seams with glee.

It was just then that the force of her gaze became tangible and poked Sarah of out the moment. Her eyes darted over and grew wide with embarrassment as the smile fell dreadfully from her face.

There was a moment of unspoken, sheer, painfully-fantastic awareness that passed between the two. Thankfully, or perhaps not, it was something Jareth failed to notice entirely, as he proceeded to divert his attentions to the pile of jewels littered before them.

"I don't recall there being such a wide array of female accessories cluttering up my library."

It took Marie a minute to catch up, the tether of she and Sarah's stare was too delightful. The poor girl didn't even realize she was still clinging to him all the while. Oh, did she read her thoughts just now? She almost laughed as Sarah's arm slowly snuck back to her side as her posture stiffened away from him.

"Forgive the mess, Your Majesty. I have just returned from my homeland with gifts from my parents, for both the king and queen, of course," she said, bowing her head to hide her grin. Sarah grew even more embarrassed.

"Ah yes, you have been away. These are some fine spoils you have. I thought your father was merely an Earl?" he asked, and this time it was Mariella's turn to look shocked. That was perhaps the first time he had spoken to her informally, with kindness, genuine goodwill even. Did he realize it was she whom he was speaking to?

"Ah...yes, he is, though I suppose a very wealthy one," she said with an uneasy chuckle. He was speaking casually to her, though had yet to make eye contact. Both she and Sarah watched as he thumbed through the collection.

"I see, be sure to extend our gratitude."

"Of-of course, Your Majesty," she said, this time glancing at Sarah and giving her a very peculiar eye. Her response was a very disturbed kind of smile. She looked like she wanted to run away.

"Anything catch your eye?" he asked, and Sarah realized he was talking to her. She leaned in and tilted her head.

"I haven't really gone through it yet. Marie was still setting it out."

"Hmm," he hummed as a hand found its way back to her hip, and she brought her own to the center of his back to steady herself -or that's what she would tell Marie at least.

"I hope it's to your liking. My family worked very hard, since the day they found out I had been re-stationed here, to amass a collection worthy of Your Majesties."

Jareth ignored her comment, but continued to search through the assortment with interest. Sarah wasn't particularly paying attention, having zoned out on the feel of his vest against her fingertips. She tuned back in however once Jareth straightened up.

"Find something?" she asked. There was a rather curious look on his face, inquisitive actually. He took her hand and held it out, and she realized he intended to put a ring on her finger. "What is-"

"There, this should do." She didn't get time to finish her question, let alone gander too deeply at the heavy ring she now wore, as he then picked up a similar ring and donned it himself. "It is a tradition among your people no?" he asked, and then her brow drew. "To wear bands signifying our pledge to one another?" Her eyes peered down at the large opal and diamond arrangement nestled around her left ring finger and realized she'd been blindsided. Her eyes darted to and from Marie nervously.

"Um, yes, but...usually one takes more care in choosing rings. It's kind of special to each couple," she explained, not in the least bit disappointed by Jareth's taste but more his timing, or rather ignorance, of the intimacy the gesture inspired. She would have rathered they be alone right now. "But...I guess it's also common for it to be spontaneous, so thank you. I...didn't think you were really aware of that aspect of my culture. It's really beautiful." She met his gaze and he smiled, and again Marie faded away -content to bite back the comment that it was in fact she who had procured the rings entirely. She couldn't wait to tell her mother. Oh, if only she had that camera contraption in reach.

Jareth's smile spread, but before he could get too caught up in those emerald eyes, he clutched her hand and kissed it.

"Well, I'll leave you to it then. I have some business to get back to," he said, peering back to give Mariella a quick indiscernible glace before walking briskly towards the door.

"See ya," Sarah said, waywardly almost, staring after him as if she'd rather be following suit. Once he was gone she turned back to Marie and the look of sweet doe-eyed panic returned. Mariella pursed her lips, then smiled wickedly. Oh yes, someone most definitely had a lot of explaining to do.

"Tell. Me. Everything."

* * *

Roldan glanced back at the sound of a door opening and closing, setting down the two crystal tumblers in hand.

"Where'd you disappear to?" he asked, peering down as he poured himself a drink.

"An errand," Jareth replied, meeting him across the room, extending a hand as Roldan offered him a glass.

"Hmph." Roldan huffed into his glass, his eyes cast down, but whether or not they were rolling with disapproval went unnoticed. "You left in the middle of our game. I thought perhaps you were irritated with how poorly you're losing," he continued, sardonically. It wasn't exactly odd for Jareth to spontaneously vanish; it no longer phased him at this point. Jareth grinned and took a swig, his brow twitching in response.

"Brandy?" he asked, a bit caught off guard by Roldan's choice. They both meandered back to the billiards table. Roldan held up his glass and looked at it dismissively.

"Yes...An Aboveground brew. It just came in. I figured you'd appreciate." There was a slight bite on the end of his sentence, betraying the air of mild annoyance he'd been haphazardly trying to conceal all week. Jareth ignored it, though his gaze sharpened just a bit.

"I believe it's your move then," he said, downing the last swig of his glass and setting it on the edge of the table. Roldan, having yet to meet his gaze directly, picked up his cue and took aim.

It'd been like this for several days, ever since Jareth had returned from the south. Sarah had told him of the confrontation they'd had, though he originally had no intention of intervening. With that said, Roldan's disposition had been even more sour than usual, his gaze always lowered and cast away as if he was still cursing the matter. Jareth had found himself quite bored with it and was now growing irritated. As far as he knew, he and Sarah had yet to speak, or even come across one another since their fight. She admitted she was avoiding him, and for some reason this bothered Jareth. She shouldn't be wasting her energy worrying about_ him_. He'd been through that one time too many. And so being here now, after reaching out to try and lift Roldan's spirits in a manner much unlike himself, he found his tolerance for such paltry matters worn thin.

Jareth sighed heavily. Did he really have to parent these two like a couple of petulant children?

The sound of the billiard balls crashing stirred him from his thoughts. Roldan stepped away for Jareth to take his turn. He leaned over the table, pretending to focus on his shot.

"So. Roldan," he said, thrusting the cue sharply at its mark. "You've seemed bothered these last few days. I dare say more than usual. Care to unburden yourself? _Dear friend_." Roldan's hand gripped his cue, though he tried to come off as nonchalant.

"I don't know what you mean," he said, moving around to the other side of the table. Jareth watched him with an impatient smirk.

"Hm, very well then...Oh, I've just remembered, I don't believe I ever asked how your days alone with Sarah went. Manage any bonding while I was away?"

This time Roldan's jaw clenched. There was an inflection in Jareth's voice that made him feel he was being handled, and not very shrewdly.

"Afraid not," was all he said, and took his shot. Jareth's finger tapped against his glass as he pondered whether or not to just drink the whole damn flask.

"Well that's disappointing. And here I thought you'd jump at the chance to get to know my wife a little better while my back was turned." Roldan said nothing to that, but was now standing rigidly. It took all of his self control not to snap back. Jareth huffed at the sorry image and turned to refill his glass. "By the way, the nymph has just returned, and brought many spoils with her. When you see her, I imagine she'll offer quite a treat." There was no disguising the provocation in Jareth's voice now, and yet Roldan could not bring himself to retort. He did not want to have this conversation, though it seemed Jareth was fully equipped to have it all on his own.

"Is there something you'd like to say?"

Jareth peered back slightly, a bit of that trademark menace showing through.

"No."

Roldan shook his head and set down his cue.

"You obviously have a point to this. So why did you insist we play this game, Jareth?"

"Because you insist on playing me." And to that Roldan's expression changed completely.

"What?"

Jareth turned around and pointed a scolding finger at him. His expression and tone however, were kept light and breezy.

"Do you think me a fool?" he asked. Roldan looked nearly surprised and blinked in confusion.

"No. Of course not-"

"Surely you must, otherwise you would not stand there and lie to my face when I ask if something is wrong." There was an air of sarcasm, condescendence in Jareth's voice. He wasn't angry by any means, he was however impatient.

"There is nothing wrong. Not where you or the kingdom is concerned."

"And yet…" He sneered at the floor as he stepped towards the table, setting his glass down on the edge with a thud. "There is indeed something." Roldan bit the inside of his cheek. He didn't know how to respond. "Do you know where Sarah is?" Jareth asked. Roldan furrowed his brow.

"No."

"When was the last time you've seen her?"

"Not for several days."

"Ah," Jareth said, precariously pacing along the edge of the table. "So not since your indiscretion then?" He brought his gaze to Roldan's then, a bored eyebrow raised. Roldan's scowl had long since cemented. He could only imagine the rubbish she'd told him.

"Indiscretion?" Roldan repeated. "We had an argument, something that is not exactly uncommon between us."

"True enough. Only this time, it's become a problem for me too. Normally I wouldn't care in the slightest, the discourse that goes on between the two of you. But you see, my wife has taken to her rooms for several days now, anxious of bumping into you. Now why might she be avoiding you?"

"I was not aware of that."

"Because you have also been avoiding her?" He looked up to meet Roldan's stare. "I'd like to hear about your conversation."

"...It seems you've already heard plenty from her."

"It was not a request."

Jareth's stare was direct, causing Roldan to sigh and fiddle with his cue restlessly.

"She provoked me. Insulted me, and you for that matter."

"Yes well, I think it's time you two made up, don't you?"

This time Roldan rolled his eyes and side stepped around the table. Neither of them had any interest in the game, but going through the motions proved a strong enough shield for him.

"...Please don't patronize me," he said, followed by the loud crash of balls. "Your woman speaks on matters that are none of her concern."

"Enough," Jareth said, plainly with a wave of the hand. "While I don't wholly disagree with you, that_ woman_ which you refer to is also your Queen. I expect you to start treating her like it. I've put up with your attitude for days, and all you've done is treat me like some ignoramus. I will not have another wife sulking over you," he said, giving in to rub the tension from his brow. Roldan stared at him confusedly for a moment, but didn't respond. "I don't care what she said or how it made you feel. Find a way to get over it. Now."

That comment had Roldan fisting his hands, and his voice became tense with the restraint of anger.

"...She accused Aurelia of infidelity. Forgive me for becoming offended."

"I don't understand what it is with the two of you and this obsession with the past," Jareth said, impatiently setting his glass on the edge of the table. "She has been dead and gone for over five-hundred years. Is it not my right to move on?"

"Of course, Sire-"

"And thus it is not your place to dwell." He paused lest he lose composure and tapped the edge of his glass again. "I do not much enjoy seeing my wife emotionally distraught over another man, Roldan. I highly suggest you make an effort. Soon." And with that Roldan knew he'd been beat. He was allowed to squabble, but never truly argue with Jareth. It was simply the nature of their stations. He swallowed his pride and cocked his head in deference.

"I understand."

"Good," Jareth stated and slammed the rest of his drink. "Now pick up your cue, I'm done letting you win out of pity."

* * *

"There, I think that's the last of it."

"Yes, thank you. I always forget how much more time consuming it is to pack these things up than to lay them out."

Mariella closed the latch on her box of jewels and glanced towards the window. It was starting to get dark out, neither of them having realized how many hours they'd spent simply catching up.

"Would you like me to bring this to your room?" she asked. Sarah shook her head.

"No, don't worry about it. It's getting late and you haven't even gotten to unpack. Why don't you go relax for the rest of the night, I'll finish picking up."

"Oh, now I can't allow that!"

Sarah peered up with a raised brow.

"I'll survive. Besides, I'm meeting up with Jareth anyway…" She kept her eyes lowered on that one, already sensing the pursed grin Marie was undoubtedly giving her.

"...Of course you are." The amusement was vivid.

Just then they were interrupted by the sound of the door opening loudly. They both peered over but didn't see who had entered right away. It was a goblin, one of the couriers Sarah had grown familiar with.

"Your Majesty. Pardon me intrusion, but I have some letters for ya's," it said, bowing deeply as it presented two envelopes on fanned palms. Sarah took the letter precariously. Who would be writing to her?

"Thank you, Gamundu," she said, and again the critter bowed and scurried away. Mariella spied the top letter's seal nosely.

"Who is it from, do you think?" she asked. Sarah cocked her head.

"I have no idea. It's pressed with Jareth's seal though," she said, flipping the letter from back to front. Mariella's brow rose.

"Lord Davion!" Sarah looked to her sharply. "The wax is blue, yet the crest is His Majesty's. That must mean it is Lord Davion who has written to you." Sarah's brow drew and she looked back down to the wax seal. Oh lord, what did he want now? "Are you going to open it?" Sarah winced.

"...Eventually. I'm still kinda peeved about the stunt he pulled the last time I saw him...and I know Jareth's always worried about him pulling tricks on me…"

"True, better to be safe than sorry, even when it comes to my dear Lord Davion I am sad to say." Sarah couldn't stop the huff of laughter that escaped her then and looked up to Mariella with a look of amusement, one that was completely lost on her.

"I'll let you know if he has anything interesting to say," she said, choosing to stuff the envelope in her pocket for the time being. "Any idea who this one is from?" she asked, offering up the second letter. The seal was a pale green featuring an ornate tree with a bird caught in its roots. Marie tilted her head.

"It looks like the royal seal of Yore, but I'm not sure," she said, flipping it from front to back. Sarah rose a brow, but ultimately shrugged and took the letter to shove it in her pocket with its companion.

"Weird," she said and turned towards the luggage. "Do you want help carrying your bags?" This time it was Mariella's turn to look amused.

"Oh lords no. Unlike you, Your Majesty, I have no qualms utilizing the labors at my disposal," she said, and just like that a scurry of goblins seemed to appear from the very seams of the floorboards and started hauling away Mariella's cargo.

"Heh, I'll see you tomorrow then," she said and soon they parted ways.

Suddenly she was alone, and the room seemed far more empty than usual. The fire cracked periodically, the only other sound being her own footsteps as she finished tidying up the room. Really, she didn't have to do this. In a way she was forcing herself to, in an effort to remain normal. She didn't want to be waited on hand and foot, it was an aversion she'd only really started feeling now that she was queen. She guessed it was because it all felt more real now, no more waiting, no more what ifs. That seemed to bother her a great deal not so long ago…

She left the library quietly and headed back to her room. She wasn't sure when she'd be seeing Jareth, but they'd been spending their nights together all week and the thought of keeping him waiting caused her heart to beat just a tiny bit faster. She wanted to be with him. All the time it seemed. When the hell did that happen?

The echo of the corridor always creeped her out at night, so she was careful to take light steps. It was an effort which led to her own undoing, as an unexpectant force made the misfortune of rounding the corner just then and collided straight into her.

She stumbled back and gasped.

"Oh! Geez, you scared the crap out of me," she said reflexively, taking a moment to compose herself before looking up. She froze when she did, the embarrassed smile falling plainly from her face. "Oh...Um, sorry."

The awkwardness of Roldan's posture she was sure reflected her own. Her eyes darted this way and that.

"No I- I wasn't paying attention. Are you alright?" he asked, and she was caught off guard by the lack of pure and total animosity she had been expecting to hear in his voice.

"Yeah, I'm fine. These hallways need a better source of lighting, I tell you," she muttered, anxiously, scratching the back of her head like a fool as she moved to walk around him.

"I'll make a note of it."

"Okay...well...goodnight then." She strode past him quickly, never once meeting him in the eye. She was fumbling a great deal but honestly she had no idea how to act around him. She thought she was in the clear when she heard him call her name.

"Sarah- wait." She stopped on a dime and turned. He was staring straight at her, but his expression was hard to discern in the diminished light. He took a few steps towards her until they were close once more. She stared at him wide-eyed and wordless, a torch conveniently overhead now illuminated the both of them. He opened his mouth to speak, but there was hesitation. "I...I've been meaning to see you," he said, with a tone very much unaccustomed to him. It made her frown.

"About what?" she asked, expecting to be reprimanded again. His eyes lowered, deep and darkened by shadows, reflected the flame of the torch sharply.

"...I'm sorry -for the way I behaved last we spoke. My temper was...uncalled for and...certainly out of line." Sarah's eyes widened at the admission, for it seemed one not wholly his own. She suspected Jareth might have had something to do with this, but even still, there was an honesty laid bare in his expression that she'd come to recognize.

"Roldan...you have nothing to apologize for," she said, and he looked up with a bit of surprise. "I deserved every bit of the reaction you gave me. I know I said this already, but I've actually been wanting to apologize again. I pushed too hard into a matter that I didn't realize was so deeply personal to you. You have every right to be upset by the assumptions I made. I honestly can't fully imagine what it is that you feel." He did not respond to her. It looked as if he was biting his lip, to keep the words smothered. He swallowed, his scowl becoming more intense, though she wondered what exactly about her words had affected him so. She stared at him deeply, inspected every nuance of his face. He looked like a broken soul, a man in such pain. The guilt she felt knowing it was she who had wretched open such long buried scars had her feeling miserable. He was always so angry, so hard on the people around him. Was it because of this pain? Did he have no other way to express it?

She started to realize it then, the reason why he could not look her in the eye, why he looked so unbelievably ruined right now.

"Roldan," she said, gently, asking for his gaze. He blinked slowly and looked up. His eyes met hers but were ill-guarded when her hands were suddenly cupping his face. She was going out on a limb here...God she hoped she was right. "It makes sense that the world was there to comfort Jareth, to offer their condolences and share in his sorrow. To place a hand on his shoulder and say they were sorry for his loss. She was his wife after all. But…" and her voice trailed off, her hands fell from his face and she took a step closer to him. "What about your loss? Who was there to comfort you?" She was staring at the floor between them, a deep frown marring her brow. "How many years have you spent in silent mourning? For how many centuries have you been alone with this pain, unable to say anything? No one stood by you. No one saw you suffer. And if they did, no one cared, not even Jareth...for that...I am so sorry."

She closed her eyes and, before he could protest, wrapped her arms tightly around him. It was only after Jareth had shared his side of the story that her true perspective was gained. Jareth might have said that he didn't care, or wasn't jealous, but his actions spoke otherwise. He'd outright punished his friend; for five-hundred years he'd left him wallowing in torment and guilt, allowing him no closure, no comfort. No wonder he hated everything. No wonder he resented her. She knew it was not her place to reveal the truth Jareth had trusted her with, but this...this was the least she could do.

Roldan stood completely still as Sarah embraced him with all her might. He was speechless, the words he might have said left choked and stumbling in his throat. He wanted to push her away, to throw her clean off of him. If Jareth saw them like this- if he even found out- And yet he remained rigid. He felt her hands splay further as she tightened her grip, her face nuzzled into his chest, and he could only imagine it was because she too was ashamed. The things she'd said, it was as if they'd pierced his very being. He stared straight ahead, unblinking, his vision starting to blur.

Sarah wasn't sure what to do next. He was dead quiet, hadn't moved a single muscle. She began to feel even more sad then. What else could she do? Was she only making him more upset? She closed her eyes, content to stand there all night if that's what it took. Had she interpreted him correctly, or was this all a huge mistake?

"I see you Roldan. And I am deeply sorry...for _your_ loss."

He was still silent, but she felt a thump in his chest and his heartbeat start to quicken. She could feel it against her temple, that and his chest rise as he took in a labored breath.

She was right. He'd never realized it, nor how much it had mattered. Indeed no one had ever looked his way. Know one knew, nor cared to even ask, the way he felt. It was after all, not his place to feel anything. It had not mattered. It had not mattered. So why...why of all times and in all places, did this one girl's touch render him so helpless?

He felt his arms rising slowly, wrapping around her, and holding on just as tightly.

He could not help the heavy rise and fall of his chest, and lowered his head, nuzzling his nose into her hair, and exhaled deeply. He felt outside of himself. He felt the warmth of her small frame, the strength of her delicate limbs, the power that she held over him. And though he might hate himself in but only a moment or two, he gave in to it. He closed his eyes and held her. His fingers sifted through her hair as they curled into fists. Was this peace he was feeling? Was this the comfort that she claimed he lacked? He was not sure of anything but the smell of her hair and the calming emptiness growing inside him.

Sarah could feel the anguish moving through him in a steady subtle shudder, and it nearly brought a tear to her own eye. This man, this poor man, someone whom she hated and fought and defied, this man whom she thought she would never share a kind word with, was now holding onto her for dear life. How could Jareth do this...how could he hold so much resentment? She wanted to tell him, to tell him that Aurelia had loved him after all, that it wasn't for nothing, that he wasn't alone. She wanted to tell him it was okay to move on, that he betrayed no one and had punished himself long enough. This man she hardly knew...this man who detested everything she was.

She wondered what he was thinking of, if she herself occupied any of his thoughts at all. Did they share the same quandary? Or was he equally lost? She did not get an answer to these questions, as soon the impulse of the moment withered and each withdrew from the other. She could feel an awkwardness creeping in, but still stood back and looked him square in the eye.

"I know...it's probably impossible to start over. But...I mean it when I say I want us to be friends. I'll stop...giving you such a hard time...all the time." Her eyes lowered to the side. He hadn't said anything in quite a while and she had no idea what he was thinking. She found her hands knotting nervously behind her.

Roldan continued to stare at her, vacantly for a moment. And then the haze seemed to clear and if she had the courage to look up at him, she'd have seen him smiling.

"Hmph, but then you would not be you." She darted her head up to find his expression wayward and warm. She opened her mouth to speak, but caught herself when he looked to the floor and reached up to straighten the lapels of his jacket. "But I agree...it would be nice...to try." He brought his gaze back to her and she cracked a faint grin in return. He didn't look so angry anymore. He looked...relieved. Her gaze softened and her smile became more genuine.

"Okay...Goodnight Roldan," she said, hugging her sides in contentment as she turned away from him.

"Goodnight" she heard him say, and in a much softer voice, lowered his gaze to the floor and whispered. "...Sarah."

* * *

When Sarah entered her room she hadn't expected it to be filled with awkwardness. She was alone, although the fire had already been lit. She'd been feeling somewhat gleeful on the walk back, admittedly caught up in the intimate moment she and Roldan had shared, but now awareness was getting caught up with her and she wondered whether or not this was something she needed to disclose to Jareth.

Her gaze gradually fell to the floor as a hand rifled through the letters in her pocket, and she stepped further into the room.

"You look bothered."

Sarah glanced over with surprise. She'd mindlessly wandered towards the fire and was now greeted by the presence of Jareth lounging on the couch beside her. His expression was ernest enough, as it had been often lately, which allowed some of the worry to leave her.

"Not really. Have you been here long?" She moved to sit on the other end of the couch beside his feet. Her eyes caught on the black leather of his boots as they glinted against the fire. Jareth eased back and recrossed his ankles.

"I suppose...I enjoy waiting for you. Your room seems...more welcoming than mine," he said, a comment so candid that Sarah found it to be very sad. She almost suggested then that they share rooms -that's what most married couples did in the Aboveground anyway- but decided against it. She appreciated having his and her own space. It was a lot to deal with each other sometimes.

"Probably because my room has better lighting," she said, jokingly, then glanced down at him with a weak smirk. "Your room is always so gloomy." He grinned and reclined his arms behind his head.

"Truly my own microcosm," he said, and they both huffed. But the laughter was empty and, to Sarah, was followed by a silence perturbed. She wasn't sure what to say next. "So, what's in your pocket?" he asked, merely to break the silence. She had a dour look on her face and he wondered if that may be the reason. Sarah blinked dumbly then pulled out the envelopes she was still fondling.

"I got some mail...I thought maybe we should look at it together," she said. Jareth sat up and moved closer to her.

"Alright...though you do not need my supervision," he reminded. Sarah shrugged and handed him one of the envelopes.

"I know you said they're screened before getting to me, but it still makes me nervous. Mariella says this one is from Davion." Jareth took the paper from her with a terse look on his face. Apparently their feelings on the subject were mutual. "Is it okay?" she asked. Jareth flipped it back and forth and then shrugged.

"I imagine, if it made its way to you," he said, passively. "You could simply burn it."

"I think not, thank you," she said snarkily, which earned a quick smirk from Jareth as he then tore the letter open. She waited for him to read it but there was a bit of a pause, so she looked up.

"Were you expecting a boom?"

"Huh?"

Sarah blinked, realizing she'd been making a somewhat apprehensive expression. He was already staring at her, his eyes laughing. She fought off a glare but couldn't help snatching back the letter from him petulantly and he smiled wider. She was cute when she was timid. He liked the trust in him such reactions implied.

"It's safe," he added, "As suspected, my carefully crafted safety protocols are in fact reliable." He spoke plainly with only a faint hint of sarcasm. Just enough to get her flustered.

"Sorry...I guess I'm just still surprised you don't flag my mail. Especially that from Davion."

"Why? Plotting a coup?"

"No. It's just...I don't know. Nevermind." He was teasing, but the way she'd started shaking her head and scowling as she inspected the letter for herself made him realize it may actually be bothering her.

"Would you feel safer if I did?" She glanced up at that, as if caught off guard, so he continued. "You keep saying you're surprised, which either means you think I shouldn't trust you or you think you are in danger. While I'd rather neither be the case, if you want me to make a presumption, I'd like to presume the latter." She didn't really have anything to say to that. He kind of hit the nail on the head there with that one. "I can only hope my trust in you is warranted, as you have it implicitly. As you may have realized, I value a certain degree of privacy and I'd like to make sure you are afforded the same. You are not a prisoner, and as such I don't feel the need to personally approve, or disprove, your private correspondence. And as for you being in danger..." he started, then trailed off when he broke eye-contact to gaze at the fire. "I am very protective of you, yes, and not without reason. But I'd like for you to trust my efforts all the same. I do go through great pains after all...to provide you with, at the very least, a sense of security."

Huh...She felt kind of bad now. She hadn't meant to insult him or question his abilities let alone his intentions. She found herself on the brink of apologizing when he leaned back against the couch and brought his hands behind his head.

"I thought you would prefer my nose kept clear of your personal thoughts and conversations...but alas, I will go out of my way to open every single one of your parcels, by hand, in full view of your own self, from now until eternity, if that is your wish." He rolled his head towards her with a grin as he finished his sentence, which brought some ease to an otherwise, albeit subtle, guilt-trip. "I'll even provide dramatic dictation, provided I'm not preoccupied with, you know, ruling a kingdom and all that."

"Hmph, you make it sound below your paygrade or something," she replied, teasingly, which earned her another smirk. He looked away and she relaxed a little, fearful she was being too awkward. She felt off her game. Was this Roldan issue really bothering her that much?

"Yes, actually. Hence the magical screenings," Jareth said, cocking a brow. "But that is beside the point. I want you to feel safe."

"Yeah...I know. And I do...with you, which I guess is why I wanted you to be here when I opened them." She saw the corner of his mouth twitch just then, and she figured that slight bolster of ego was what he needed. She looked down and grinned a little. When the hell did she get so bashful?

"So, what does my brother want now? I can only imagine-" he asked, pulling Sarah from her brief musing. Her eyes focused on the letter in her hands, and she read aloud,

"_My dearest sister,_

_I hope this message makes its journey to you unhindered, unburnt, trampled or torn. I fear my company, written or corporeal, may still not be very welcome after our last encounter. _-Yeah, no kidding-_ Apologies, once again. _-Oh, well gee, thanks- _In case you have forgotten, when last we spoke I offered what I'm sure will be a much needed retreat from the burden that is being my brother's wife. As you are now married and have no doubtedly settled into your circumstance, I'd like to extend the invitation formally to you now. I look forward to hearing from you, and seeing you even more so. The north is a truly remarkable place with a very distinct culture I think you'll find a bit refreshing after the rather coarse acquaintance the capital has presented you with these last few months._

_Please respond. It gets so very lonely up here._

_As always, with love,_

_Davion"_

Sarah stared kind of blankly at the paper, her expression looking even more bored than Jareth's had. She blinked slowly, then looked up to Jareth.

"Well, can definitely tell you're related," she said, deadpan. Jareth rose his brow as if surprised she would say such a thing and leaned in closer. She sighed and set the paper down. Did she really want to see Davion again so soon? She could practically feel the insincerity crawling out of his words and onto her skin. At least he was easier to read than Jareth.

"Was that meant to be an insult?" Jareth asked and she chuckled.

"I honestly don't know. You are each the definition of cavalier."

"Ah, so a compliment."

Sarah smiled wider and laughed. He was grinning too, and she leaned in to rest under his shoulder. "Yes, exactly," she said, and tossed the letter off to the side.

"So?"

"So, what?" She peered up when he peered down.

"Are you going to accept his invitation?" Sarah's stare became dubious while his remained unchanged.

Oh. He was genuinely asking her? She wasn't expecting that. Not at all.

"Are you serious? Um...I don't know." she half-asked, like it was a test. Jareth just stared at her.

"May I throw it into the fire now?"

"No. I...are you implying that I can actually go? You don't seem very surprised by this," she asked, incredulously. Jareth snatched the letter from the couch cushion and scanned it over himself.

"There are only so many things Davion would write to you in a letter. Him wanting to seclude you alone in the confines of his melting hot-house is on the short list."

"And...you're giving me the option to accept?"

"No." Jareth stopped reading and set the paper down to look at her. "No, I'm not _giving_ you anything. I'd rather you and he never be within a thousand miles of one another. But, the invitation was extended to you, and only you, and as a queen you have the right to accept or decline." She was looking up at him all doe-eyed and confused, so he rolled his own and continued. "It is not my place to forbid you anything anymore, Sarah ...Within my power, at least. If you want to go, then you will go." And now she furrowed her brow, something which he didn't quite like. Having to explain basic freedoms only reminded him that he was the one who had torn those expectations from her in the first place. He was not however, prepared in the slightest for what she said next.

"You could...physically stop me." Under different circumstances that look at that angle with those words might have gotten him hard, but at this moment he found it concerning. Is that what she expected of him? To parent her like a hapless child? He supposed it was his own fault. He had conditioned her quite roughly after all...

"Is that what you want?" he asked.

"No…" though she didn't sound convinced. Jareth was getting confused. It was almost like she wanted him to tell her no. Hm, maybe she did.

"Was this what you were expecting the_ burden _of marriage to be? Censure and constraint?" He wasn't angry or offended, but genuinely asking. He wanted to empower her now as his queen, but maybe that was the problem. He'd only ever thought of empowering her once she became his. She hesitated before answering and he looked away with a sigh. The direction this conversation was heading in was not a good one and he wanted to veer out of it quickly. "Do you want to go?" he asked, peering down at her without judgement. Sarah pursed her lips and shifted in her spot under his arm.

"I...don't really want to be within a thousand miles of Davion either right now, but...I guess I'll have to see him eventually. And...I think it would be a good opportunity to see more of the kingdom. I want to see more. And from what I've read about Fort Fyrn, it seems like a really beautiful place."

"Alright then. Was that so hard?" He was mocking her again, but was honestly relieved. Newfound guilt had been seeping into his conscience more and more recently, and he was thankful to have successfully diverted it this time. As if he didn't regret their shared past enough already.

"Are you sure you're okay with me going by myself though?" he heard her ask and huffed impulsively.

"By yourself? Is that what you think we were discussing?" he asked, incredulously. "No. Absolutely not. The invitation may have been addressed to you but I can still see that you are accompanied at all times. There's no way in your Aboveground Hell I'd let you set foot outside of this city without me let alone trek halfway across the country to take salt baths with my brother."

Ah, and there he was. Sarah was beginning to wonder when her good ol' over-protective, aggressively-domineering fae overlord would return. Ironically it made her happy, to feel as important as he blatantly and frequently claimed her to be. She was distracted in these thoughts when he called her attention again.

"Sarah-" and she looked up. "I feel I need to explain something...I understand I've made a certain _impression_ with you earlier, but I told you things would be different between us once we were married. Perhaps you thought that meant more shackles, but truthfully the only intention I have in holding your hand is if you offer it to me first. You're not only allowed, but expected to manage your own life. I will only physically intervene, as you put it, in instances that I believe are a danger to you. Do you understand?" He was speaking to her sternly but with warmth, and the hand at her shoulder was squeezing gently. Actually no, she did not understand. She was used to being kept square under his thumb and now it seemed he was casting her to the wind. She guessed his trust really was implicit, which had her wondering if their relationship really had come so far. Why did it seem she was the only one feeling this uncertainty?

And yet his arm around her was warm. His eyes, attentive and compassionate, brought her ease. His smell, and his touch, and his heat made her feel safe. She wanted to be closer to him, and did not want to be anywhere else. She was loving him all on her own. It would be stupid to question that feeling after the price she'd paid to finally have it.

"Yes. I understand."

She gave in to rest her head against him, reveling in the tenderness of his hold. The fire crackled and popped and steadily lulled her worries. His breath rose and fell subtly, his heartbeat faint through the thick velvet of his vest. He was calm, just as she, and she wondered what price she would have to pay to keep this moment forever.

"So, what's this second letter then?"

She hadn't realized it, but he'd reached down and taken hold of the other envelope. She turned her head a little to watch, and shrugged.

"I have no idea. Mariella seemed confused as well," she said, her eyes landing on the thick seafoam-green wax seal. "She said it looks similar to Braxton's," she added.

"It is. A variant anyway. One I've never seen before."

"What does that mean?"

"It means it's from a member of Braxton's family I have never had correspondence with," he explained, then tore open the letter.

"Oh. Well that's awfully mysterious. Why would anyone be writing to me?"

"Open it and see," Jareth said, withdrawing the paper inside and handing it to her. Sarah shifted to lay her head in his lap and held the paper out in front of her face between them.

_Her Lady and Majesty, Queen Sarah,_

_Greetings, dear sister. May I first offer you my deepest and most heartfelt congratulations on your marriage. It is a true spectacle, marriage to an Orpian king. I must also promptly apologize for my absence during your presentation ball. You see, I have been confined of late and was thus unable to share with you in the joyous festivity. You are by now undoubtedly wondering who I am, and so again I must ask forgiveness for my abrupt intrusion into your day. I was, quite frankly, very excited to write to you._

_I feel you and I may have much to talk about, and as this is a place where conversation quickly becomes stale and rehearsed, I would very, very much like the chance to speak with you. I would like to cordially invite you to tea at my palace. I am, unfortunately, unable to travel at this moment, so I beg you not think me rude. Please write to me at any time, at your convenience and your wish. In the meantime, I wish you all the best._

_Sincerely,_

_Delphine_

"It's from Queen Delphine," Sarah said, after combing through the letter once more. She pondered a moment, trying to figure out why she of all people would be so eager to meet her, as well as the nagging feeling there was something important she was supposed to be remembering.

"What does she want?" Jareth asked, not sounding the least bit surprised this random woman would write to her.

"She invited me to her castle for tea. Is that normal?" she asked.

"I told you, you would start receiving invitations once we were married. You're part of court life now."

"Hm…" she hummed, certain she was missing something. "Delphine...I feel like there was something I was supposed to remember about her," she muttered, scouring through her written words as if the answer were lurking somewhere in the ink. Jareth was oddly quiet, which was always a clue in and of itself. "Do you know?" she asked, shifting the paper to peek up at him from behind it.

"You shouldn't need to ask. This was entirely why I forced Roldan to play governess," he said, to which she pursed her lips. Yeah, the infamous lessons. Right. She was about to admit she only crammed the needed knowledge to pass his tests and questioned how much of it she'd actually retained, but stopped herself. Knowing him he'd take it upon himself to enroll her in a refresher course first thing in the morning.

"Well, to be fair, he didn't do a very good job," she said, half-jokingly. Jareth didn't seem to find her comment funny, so she put her thinking cap on and went to work. "Okay. So, Delphine. Braxton's wife. Wait, doesn't he have two wives? And Delphine is…..the second. Yes. The second. She wasn't at the engagement party. Huh, come to think of it, I don't think his other wife was either, was she?" Not realizing that question was not rhetorical, Sarah shot him an eye to provoke a response.

"No. Neither of them were."

"Hm...curious. Delphine. That's an Aboveground name, isn't it? French, I think. Oh. OH." Jareth's expression became entirely bored watching as all the little switches flicked on in her brain. She cast down the letter and beamed up at him. "She's a human. Another Bride of Conquest. Like me." She sat up as that last thought dawned on her and moved off of Jareth's lap.

"One would think you of all people would have placed more importance on that bit of information," he said, sarcastically. Sarah scoffed but otherwise ignored him.

"Well, I guess I know why she wants to meet me. Do you know why she wasn't at the party?" Jareth ran a hand through his hair as he thought.

"She was busy birthing a child, I believe."

"What? Really?" Sarah's eyes widened a bit with surprise, though why she felt it she wasn't sure.

"Yes. His first son was born, really an auspicious night all around," he said, raising his brow at the memory. Sarah huffed at how quickly his mind found its way to the gutter and turned her attention back to the letter.

"So why was Queen Anathaea not there either?" she asked, hoping to earn back some brownie points with that casual name drop. If it worked, Jareth gave no tells.

"Probably because she was helping with the birth. I suppose you'll find out for sure if you decide to meet with her," he said.

"Hm...Am I to assume you'll be escorting me there, as well?" She looked up and they locked gazes, which was reply enough for her. "Okay. I'd like to meet with her...if you don't think it's too soon. I don't want to mess up and embarrass the kingdom," she continued.

"I'm sure you'll be fine. Your meeting is with Delphine, so I'm sure you'll get away with more of your...candid impulses." She smirked at his failure to find a phrase that would adequately cover the insult, but took no offense nonetheless. He was right; Delphine was from the Aboveground, which meant they might have an understanding she was simply unable to establish with literally anyone else in this dimension. She was getting excited just thinking about it. She wanted to dash off and practice writing her reply-

"Thanks for the vote of confidence but...I think it might be better to refresh myself with formal fae etiquette. It's kind of been the furthest thing from my mind lately," she said, which seemed a satisfying answer to Jareth. It showed she was taking things seriously, as she herself wanted to be.

"Alright. I'll have Roldan prep you throughout the week," he said, something which sent an almost-forgotten-prickle through Sarah's nerves. Damn. She'd backed herself into a corner there, hadn't she?

"Ah, speaking of Roldan…" she started, turning towards him with what registered to Jareth as more serious posture. "I...kind of bumped into him a little while ago," she said, feeling the need to just get it over with. It wasn't so much she felt guilty about what happened, or that her actions were inappropriate, she just simply couldn't keep it from him. She didn't want to. The idea of keeping a secret from Jareth, no matter what it was, felt absolutely terrifying -she'd have to revisit the inherent psychological warning presented in that later. She was glancing at the fire now, but the oddly cool tone of his "oh?" had her peering back at him with a mock grin. "Yes. I take it you do not find this news at all surprising?" she asked, sarcastically. Jareth shrugged.

"I find it ahead of schedule, if it helps." Sarah shook her head. "You're smiling though, so I assume things went well?" he added. She cocked a brow.

"Yeah...yes, actually. I feel like we finally connected," she said, nodding to herself and then glancing into her lap. She could literally feel the inquisition of his stare on her. She glanced over to find his expression slightly on guard and expectant that she elaborate more. "He apologized," she conceded, knowing that's probably all he really wanted to know. "I also apologized. And I gave him a hug." She wasn't quite sure what reaction to expect from him, and kept her lips pursed in anticipation. His brows rose a bit in a look of disbelief and he began to sit up and face her.

"A hug?" he repeated, as if the word itself was ridiculous. Sarah knotted her fingers a bit.

"Yes. He looked like he needed it."

"And did he?"

He was sitting close to her now, an arm not-so-casually strewn along the back of the couch behind her. Whereas before the gesture felt welcoming and safe, this one now felt like a snare. His cool air was gone, replaced by that telltale prowl. She knew he was trying to intimidate her into giving something away, but wasn't about to fall for it.

"Yes. And I think I did too. A simple intimate act between friends. I feel we understand each other a lot better now and can actually move forward without constantly backpedaling. I imagine you can empathize a bit with that as well." She spoke assuredly, which seemed enough to sate him. He huffed in reaction to her ending comment.

"So you're_ friends _now?" he asked, his tone mocking that word as well. Sarah couldn't hold back the smile.

"I hope so. Why, is that bad?" she asked him playfully. Jareth's eyes narrowed, but it was the creeping grin that betrayed him.

"I suppose not. Just don't fuck him. I'm finding myself growing increasingly possessive by the day," he said, lightheartedly, though she was sure there was a trace element of warning in there. Her eyes flickered down.

"Are you sure it wouldn't be me falling for him that would really bother you?" she asked, her tone coy. She was fishing a little, though made no attempt to hide it. Jareth's gaze became sharper for just a moment.

"Yes...that would also be inconvenient," he said and angled his head down towards her a bit. "I'll just have to find some way of keeping your focus."

"Not favor?"

She was teasing him now, he could tell by the way her eyes flickered up to meet his and the ghost of a smile that tugged the corners of her mouth. He was leaning into her, his free arm grasping the couch cushion by her hip, caging her in, and the paper of her letters, now long forgotten, crumpled under hand.

The intensity in his eyes had a fire sparking in her belly. Jareth saw this and his own grin became genuine. He cocked a brow and raked his eyes over her. "Will I ever win your favor?" he asked, glancing down to watch as his hand lazily pressed the skirt of her dress up her thigh. "I wonder…" She stiffened a bit once it was exposed, her feet shifting on the floor. He peered back up to find her sucking in a breath and lightly biting her lip. "You're hopeless," he said, knowing just from the look in her eye and new tension in her posture that Roldan or threats thereof were already the furthest things from her mind.

She held his gaze, keen to challenge that haughty ego of his.

"Rest assured, there will be no fuckery of any kind, for reasons more than one -least important being I have a very particular type which I fear cannot be deviated from," she said, surreptitiously shifting her legs so they parted as she turned to face him head on.

"I suppose that makes me lucky then," he replied, leaning in as if to kiss her neck. She pulled away shrewdly and threw him an eye.

"Who said that type is you?" she asked, with amusement, and pressed the tips of her fingers against his chest as if to push him away. Jareth turned his head just slightly, enough for his lips to brush the delicate hair covering her neck which sent a shiver down her spine.

"Well, if our past experience is any indication, I am truly terrified for the fate of the man to whom you are attracted to," he said, and she smiled as he kissed her neck. Her hand went to his arm, grasping his bicep tightly as she swallowed. What was terrifying was how easy it had become for him to seduce her lately. It seemed her desire to jump his bones had become a constant need, and she gave in almost instantly. She loved when he was playful like this, that he _could _be playful like this. It seemed surreal at times. When before she felt prickling awareness, she now felt comfort and ease in his company. She wanted to feel him, to smell him and taste him at her leisure, and he'd made damn well sure to be available for any inclination. It was something she couldn't accurately recount to Mariella, how far they'd come after the disaster that was their wedding. She hoped it would last.

"Jareth-" she said, her voice suddenly breathless and needy, and turned her head toward him with eyes downward cast, her lashes thick and fluttering against his temple. He pulled back just enough to look at her, stray strands of their hair tangling with one another. His eyes, quickly becoming as laden as hers, fell down the length of her face as a hand rose to grasp the back of her neck tightly.

"Hm," he hummed, pensive. "I think you were right." His gaze rose from her parted lips back to her eyes, wilting and impatient. "Jealousy is going to be a problem for me," he said, and sealed his mouth over hers.

His lips were warm, his hold on her neck tender but possessive, and he angled her this way and that as the kiss bore deeper. She closed her eyes, nearly falling slack for a moment, as her hands rose greedily into his hair. Her back arched, her body rising by her knees as she pressed into him. She felt no hesitation and panted between kisses.

The hand once supporting himself moved to her back and held her close, allowing her to straddle him effortlessly as he leaned back against the couch. He loved how brazen she'd become, loved how she no longer made any effort to hide how badly she wanted him nor showed any embarrassment for her sensuality. She'd turned him into a desperate man, a man who would cling to her and serve her like none before. And he wanted to. He couldn't believe how much he wanted to.

Her hands gripped the collar of his shirt and began removing the bands of his cravat with only newly acquired precision, while his clawed, widely splayed up under her skirt. Her thighs and ass flexed as she leaned up to toss away the garment and he held her there, tearing his mouth away from hers to bite and suck down into her bosom, which heaved into him with exaggerated breaths. She grasped his head close to her and dropped a shoulder at the feel of his hand yanking down the sleeve of her dress, then moved to hold her at the ribs, pushing up her breasts as he kissed at the swollen flesh.

God she wanted to fuck him. And she dreaded the day if ever it came when she wanted to no longer. Maybe he was right when he'd said they were chemically compatible, that their pheromones melded in a way that made them suitable mates. Would that mean the attraction would never fade, regardless of emotion? This train of thought made her distracted, but she was called back to attention when she heard him moan. His fingers constricted around her and he inhaled deeply into her cleavage as his shoulders both tensed and went lax all at once, and she realized she must have let some of her pheromones through. For a moment she wasn't sure what to do, how to stop or how to continue, and simply stared down at him as he lost himself in her. It was truly a visceral transformation. Just like before, everything about him shifted from command and control to a near primal wantonness. Just watching him turned her on, and she imagined that was a good thing, as he took another deep breath and began clawing at the bodice of her dress.

Jareth's mouth moved back up her neck, biting without care as he reached for the neckline of her dress. Sarah lurched away, as the bites were just a bit too rough, but he couldn't help it. His eyes were nearly closed, lids heavy with the intoxication that was her smell. He yanked at her bodice and she gasped, but it wouldn't budge and he realized he needed to reign himself in lest he tear it and her to pieces. He took another deep breath and yanked her forward, pressing his forehead flat against hers.

"You should warn me before doing that," he said, his voice breathy and harsh. Sarah's eyes were still wide with arousal. She responded by reaching down and stroking him through his pants. He grunted and screwed his eyes shut.

"Do you like it?" she asked, sensually, her hand moving firmly and rhythmically. She could feel him harden and lengthen when he moaned again. His hands held her by the arms, instinctively pleading for mercy. She had no idea how this affected him, how unbidden he became. Nevertheless, she reveled in it, her sexy little smile taunting him with each stroke.

"You do," he said, his grip tightening on her but doing nothing else as she began to undo the restraint on his pants. He felt her soft delicate hand wrap around him and squeeze, jerking him from root to tip. With his breath now labored, he peered up to find her practically salivating.

"I like watching you fall apart in my hands," she said, freeing him from his trousers and pumping him further. He groaned, leaning his head back and she nipped at his chin.

"You're cruel. I'm supposed to be ravishing you," he argued, near ignorant of her kisses moving down his throat. He felt helpless like this, half-drunk and caught off guard by the force of her impulses.

"Hmm…" she hummed, and before he'd even realized it she'd moved to kneel on the floor and wrapped her hot mouth around the head of his erection. A jolt of precum spurt onto her tongue and he gasped sharply. Sarah stared up at him hungrily then sucked him in deeper. His head was cast back against the couch but his hips thrust into her and a hand shot into her hair. Noticing the indecision in his grasp, she sucked harder, took total control as she pumped him from the base. He moaned again and rolled his hips, then looked down to meet her gaze.

Jareth's chest rose and fell heavily, caught between the desire to fuck her mouth or toss her over the back of the couch and fuck her everywhere. It seemed he had no choice however, as each suck and flutter of lashes was quickly driving him to climax. She was through teasing him, a clear sense of mission now hardened her stare. Ugh, she loved this. He knew she did. She loved seeing him weak for her and in truth it turned him on as well. He reached down with both hands and held her head, pushing her mouth down on him faster and deeper. She winced but found a way to accommodate him and the pleasure bloomed even hotter. She was making muffled noises as she took him, saliva thick and hot coating him with each undulation.

"Fuck," Jareth bit out, clenching his jaw as he felt the pull of climax hit him. Sarah felt him harden against her tongue and couldn't resist. He could fuck her for hours and hours but had never lasted more than ten minutes once she got her mouth on him. It was empowering. She wanted him, all of him. She wanted him hot and wet and begging. She closed her eyes and went to work, determined now to have her way. "Sarah, damnit-" And oh how he hated it. He hated being unable to help himself. She grinned wickedly as she felt movement course through him, a tense shudder, and swallowed down every bit of cum he shot at the back of her throat. He moaned loudly, gripped her scalp fiercely, and thrust her head down on him so she engulfed him completely. She relaxed her throat but continued to suck, milking him for all he had. After an agonizing moment he started to relax, though his erection only went half-soft. She started to pull away from him and was surprised when his hand pushed her back down. "Don't you dare stop," he ordered, glaring down at her. "Suck me until I'm hard again." There was a carnality in his eyes that had her growing hot all over again, and a pseudo sense of anger about him that promised he was about to have his own wicked way with her.

She started sucking on him again, aggressively, closing her eyes and breathing deep through her nose. She felt his hand moving in her hair, but his hold had become weak as he let her move on her own. It wasn't long before he grew hard again, lengthening in her mouth with each pull. She placed her hands on his thighs to hold herself up when he started thrusting again, though it wasn't but a moment later that she felt herself being hauled up into his lap.

He kissed her. Messily. His tongue bore deep into her mouth as if he were trying to taste the traces of orgasm on her. His hands gripped her jaw, thumbs pressed up into her cheeks and she gasped for breath as saliva spread between their faces. He pulled away to focus on properly removing her bodice and she took the moment to wipe at her face.

Her dress that day was peach colored, a heavier cotton material (as it had been somewhat cooler that day), the entrance to which being a series of large wooden buttons falling down the front. She shrugged out of the shoulders as Jareth worked past her navel, then reached down to continue jerking him off. His eyes closed briefly as he twitched, then he shook his head with a smile.

"Afraid it was going somewhere?" he asked, carefully taking the time to undo each button in proper succession rather than just tearing the thing in two. If she was feeling impatient he was going to drag this out as long as possible.

"Just making sure you don't forget about me," she said, and angled herself to press him into the opening of her sex. Jareth smiled and held her up.

"Ah-ah, not yet," he teased, leaning in to kiss her collarbone and then ran his tongue over the round of her breast.

"Says the man who already had an orgasm."

He smiled at that and, when the last button was undone, tossed her dress away and to the floor. His hands found her hips, his thumbs curling under the stretchy lace of her underwear. He kissed her neck once more, then pulled back to look at her.

His brow drew a little as his eyes rose and fell.

"Did your breasts get bigger?" he asked, in the most mood-shattering manner possible. Sarah paused and looked down. She was wearing a lavender colored lace bustier, the closest thing to a corset she would allow herself to wear, and would admit it gave the gals a pretty good boost. Not that she needed it, as her bosom was already well-endowed to begin with. His comment however had her feeling suddenly self conscious and she pulled back to look over herself.

"Um, I don't think so...why?" she asked, peering up to him to find his expression flagrantly impressed. He reached up and fondled them like he'd never before done so and then moved on to firmly trace the contour of her waist.

"You're keeping this on," he said, and it wasn't a request. It was perhaps in that moment that Sarah realized Jareth may have a preference for large breasts. She almost laughed, then arched her back so they were shoved up in his face.

"As you wish," she said, seductively. Jareth hummed praise into her cleavage.

"Hmm, say that again." This time she ran her hands down his chest and leaned down, pushing her ass up into the air -something Jareth's hands were quick to take advantage of.

"No," she teased, lightly running her tongue along his lips but pulling just out of reach whenever he tried to kiss her. Her fingers began to work on the buttons of his vest, taking the same agonizing amount of time to undress him. His hands gropped at her ass, their eyes in a deadlock as his fingers slipped under the hem of her underwear. They were still challenging each other for dominance, and at this point Jareth himself was unsure of who would win.

She hit the final button and his fingers started to molest her in more delicate places. She shifted a little on his lap, but otherwise paid no attention. She began to pull the vest down his arms but stopped abruptly when he ran a finger down her slit, parting her just slightly. She took in a sharp breath and closed her eyes. She was extremely bothered and tender from arousal, and it was pathetic how even this simple touch could potentially undo her. She gripped the material of his vest as it clung to his arms and she gasped a little when his finger pushed deeper. He turned his head into the side of her hair and smelled her.

"You're so wet already," he said, sliding his index finger in and out of her with ease. She tried not to tense her knees around him, but couldn't stop her hips from moving with him. She wanted more and he was taunting the fuck out of her.

She tried to say his name but it came out as a moan and she gave in to press her forehead against his shoulder. For a moment she thought he'd taken pity when he finished shrugging out of his vest, but surprised her when his touch returned with two fingers. She grunted and gripped his arms tightly, willing to cum just from that. She was so wet she could hear his fingers moving in and out of her, the noise slick and deeply carnal. Her moans were light and breathy, begging without shame. She was so lost in it, it took her a minute to even register his free hand had begun penetrating another orifice.

"Mph, that's it. Just like that," he said, softly, and the sound of his voice made her realize she was pushing her ass back onto his finger. She almost flinched, almost seized up, but the fingers in her cunt moved faster to distract her. She moaned again and pushed back. She felt his finger plunge deeper and gasped. "You're so open for me Sarah. Don't stop." He spoke to her as if she were the one doing everything, and helped her relax.

"You're going to make me cum like this," she said, warning and somewhat pleading with him. He threw his head back and took a labored breath.

"Good. I want to feel it."

"Jareth-"

"Keep going."

His fingers in her sex hooked and sent a whole new sensation coursing through her. She had no idea how many or how much of what was where but she felt full and stretched, and still she wanted more. She was so fucking wet she could feel it on her thighs and she struggled to keep her insides relaxed as her muscles quivered from imminent release.

Suddenly her back bowed and she let out a shriek, followed by a gasp and a moan and all sorts of unbidden sounds. Jareth took the moment to plunge himself as deep as he could, the shock of which sent her completely over the edge. She cried out, her body fighting against spasms as the orgasm wracked her from the core. She could feel herself tightening around his fingers, feel her fluids build and seep down her legs, and all the while she clung to him, her face buried deep in the folds of his shirt.

She panted raggedly and, in the moment of post-orgasmic numbness, he pulled out of her. The motion caused her to jolt unexpectedly but then her body relaxed. Like a pauper, she peered up to him with weak limbs but the look on his face was anything but merciful.

"Oh, did you think I was done?" Sarah gasped audibly when his finger was suddenly running through her slit again, coating itself thoroughly before being plunged in her mouth. Her eyes, once dreamy, widened as the taste of her own fluids hit her tongue and his fingers curled around her teeth, yanking her forward. "You haven't finished undressing me yet," he said, eyeing her tongue as he gently traced a shiny finger along it. She wanted to kiss him, passion still burning fiercely, but he wouldn't let her and so resorted to sucking his fingers deep into her mouth.

"You're such a tease," she mumbled, shooting him a sassy brow as her hands lowered to pull the ends of his shirt up his torso. He leaned forward for her and her fingers caressed his ribs. He was forced to remove himself from her mouth when she lifted the shirt up over his head, and she took the opportunity to plant a kiss on his chest. Her hands roamed to his shoulders as her tongue moved to his nipple and lightly flicked.

Jareth's chest expanded on a breath and she sucked on him a little more, her hands now moving down to his waist. She kissed her way to his other nipple, her hands now fisting around his erection, still pleasantly rock hard. It made her grin and move lower. He watched her back away to kneel on the floor once more, her mouth leaving light little nips and kisses down the center of his stomach. Once again he watched her tongue curl around him and he inhaled sharply, though he nearly ripped her off. She sensed the moment's contention and peered up to him.

"Please, don't flatter yourself. I need to finish undressing you remember?" she teased, smiling mischievously as she took one of his own hands and squeezed it around himself. She then looked away to work on untying his boots.

Jareth stared down at her and the dangerous amount of cleavage his vantage earned him, and began to stroke himself. She was working meticulously, taunting him by undoing each individual lace. Her willfulness left him unfazed, as he was too busy contemplating fucking her tits. She removed his boots and socks, and leaned up to take hold of the waist of his pants.

"You know, it's not fair you get to be naked and I don't," she said, yanking downward when he lifted his hips for her. He grinned and caught her by the nape.

"How about a compromise?" he asked and leaned forward suddenly, so suddenly that she flew back. Only, instead of hitting the floor she hit the soft down of her bed. While her breath caught up with her, he finished removing his trousers and then reached up for her panties, which slid down and off with zero resistance. "Fair enough?" he asked, lifting her leg to kiss the side of her foot. She narrowed her eyes just slightly but otherwise relaxed into the mattress when his kisses started traveling upward. Her ankle, her calf, knee, thigh… She found her legs spreading and her neck arching on reflex.

Her hands fisted the pillow behind her when he began to suck on the apex of her thigh, her hips rocking up towards his mouth with wanting. He turned his head and lightly kissed her clit, making her wet all over again. Her nethers were throbbing, yearning so badly to be penetrated, but for all her begging he refused, torturing her instead with external licks and kisses. She groaned in the back of her throat in frustration, but just then he took pity on her and pressed his tongue deep within her folds. She moaned and rose her hips, forcing him deeper as he plunged his tongue into her sex over and over.

Her face was growing hot. She wasn't ready to orgasm but God he knew what he was doing. Her desire made the pleasure sharper, the twinges and pulls near uncomfortable as she writhed. She wanted him on top of her, fucking her deep. Jesus Christ-

"Jareth-" she moaned. She thought she heard him laugh but couldn't tell. Peering down, she watched him raise her knee to his shoulder as he rose over her. She was so open and wet he didn't even need to position himself before pushing in, filling her effortlessly to the hilt.

Sarah's breath caught and she arched her back, and he too gasped as the hand holding her thigh constricted. He lowered to her, taking her leg with him and bending her in half before pulling out and thrusting again. This time she shrieked, turning this way and that to find a more comfortable position, but he wouldn't allow it. The feeling was too acute, too strong. He was moving so slowly she thought she'd explode.

After a moment she opened her eyes, which had been screwed shut, to find he himself was reeling -eyes closed and breath heavy as he fought back his own orgasm. Seeing this helped her to settle, though prompted his attention back to her. His gaze met hers and he cocked his head as if he had something to say, but instead fell on top of her. A crushing kiss smeared her lips and he began to pound into her.

Sarah moaned uncontrollably. This was what she wanted. Her arms wrapped around his shoulders and holding him, her heel dug into his back as he held her leg pinned between them. Each thrust was long, deep and hard, and he moaned just as she did. He bit her neck when she turned away for air, but the claustrophobic feeling of their bodies being so forcefully pressed together had her soon pushing him away. She wanted to look at him, to see his body and his face as he fucked her. He obliged, releasing her leg to take hold of both hips and lift her, pulling her into each thrust. Somehow this was even deeper, but not painful. Jareth inhaled sharply and threw his head back. If he didn't care for her wellbeing he would have fucked her until she was black and blue, and it boggled him how she could drive him to such a primal breaking point. As rough as he was, he was always restraining, always careful not to lose his head and hurt her. Perhaps she sensed this, sensed that was what was on his mind in that very moment, for suddenly she leaned up and threw her arms around his neck, riding him face to face.

Her kiss was demanding, lacking any such control he deluded himself in having. Teeth clashed, tongues melded and lips were bitten, though the violence of her onslaught only made him hold onto her tighter. His arms went to her back, supporting her while her hips rose and fell. She turned and pushed him down to the spot she once lay. He resisted at first, but a hand to his sternum was all it took to subdue his eagerness.

She rode him steadily, eyes locked to convey it was_ her turn_ now. He relaxed slightly, so she rolled her hips higher and higher, sliding down on him from tip to base and back again. His jaw tensed and his eyes closed briefly, though he was able to refrain from thrusting back. She took his hands and brought them to her hips, allowing him to maneuver her how he preferred and, once they found a rhythm, moved them again to fondle her breasts.

She was embarrassed at first but now the idea of him having a particular fascination with a part of her body turned her on. She wanted him to grope and pinch and suck. She wanted to feel wanton and dominant, to command their pleasure- how it was received and inflicted.

Jareth's gaze became more intense as he watched how viscerally Sarah's lust transformed her. There was a moment when sexual avarice took over in her and it was something that he would never ever be prepared for. It was happening more and more often and he adored it. Craved it. Much more so than he imagined. It went against his very nature, but at this rate she was sure to turn him into a proper submissive with little more than a stern feathered glance. She held his hands to her breasts and he let her manipulate him to her liking. Fingers pushed beneath the lace, exposing the rosey peaks of her nipples and he tugged reflexively. She gasped from the sharp pinch and threw her head back, thrusting down on him harder and making him moan. Her back was arched to him, pressing out her bosom as his hands became more willful and greedy. He wanted to suck on them, to shove his face between them and inhale her scent.

As if reading his mind, she threw herself forward, supporting herself with a hand on either side of his head as she rode him. This time he couldn't help himself, he met her halfway and thrust up into her. She cried out wonderfully as he captured an exposed nipple in his mouth, his hands pumping the flesh of her breast as she practically pressed them to his face.

He was panting, his breath hot and wet against her skin. His hands moved to her hips but were no sooner yanked away and stretched above his head. She held him by the wrists, keeping him in place while her pelvis moved and her chest heaved. He flexed a bit, both knowing it was a pseudo hold. She leaned down and kissed him, and this time it was surprisingly tender. Oh, how exciting it would be if he were actually restrained. If he actually could be. She knew how strong he was, plus he had magic. There was no way fluffy handcuffs were going to stop him should he set his mind to something. She thought of this, thought of the myriad ways he could be restrained as he so often did to her. How erotic that would be. How invigorating.

Her grip on his wrists gave way and her touch traveled back to his abdomen as she gave up on her daydreams to continue fucking his brains out. She continued to lean back, positioning her arms on his thighs for support. When she looked back to him, she smiled.

Jareth stared with an open mouth at the image she presented before him, though couldn't place the reason for her wry smile. It was like she was impressed. With herself? His hands were still resting on the pillow above his head, but now felt the inclination to reach out and tear her from that victory pose.

And then his body tensed. There was a clank, a jingle of sorts, and he realized his arms were secured in place. He glanced up, unable to hide the surprise, borderline panic that hit him. His wrists, where she once held them, were cuffed to the bed. He peered back to her and realized that was the reason she was smiling. A horrible sense of dread fell over him then, for he was not the one who conjured them.

Jareth's mood was nearly shattered as his attention turned to the restraints and away from Sarah entirely. He pulled but nothing happened. He tried to keep himself composed, to process the situation without her becoming aware of it, but it was difficult to say the least. This was not his magic. What's more, it was strong magic. Very strong. And it smelled of Liana. He peered to Sarah again, thankfully still caught up in her own gratification. She had done this. There was no other possibility. Her desire must have been so strong she'd tapped into Liana's power to restrain him. The implications of such had him writhing.

Did she know what she had done? Was the world about to shatter with his dick still inside her? How was he still hard right now? Better yet, how the fuck was he going to get out of this?!

Panic raged through him the likes of which he'd never felt, aided by the stimulation he was already experiencing. He pulled on the cuffs again, this time as hard as he could, and still nothing. His jaw tightened and he took in a deep breath. Even if he could somehow deal with all this without Sarah realizing, there was a very real possibility that he would be incapable of breaking free. How the fuck would he explain that?

"Are you alright?" He looked up in a fright to find Sarah staring down at him. She was looking at him peculiarly but with amusement. "I mean, I'm flattered you cuffed yourself, but if it's going to bother you that much you can just poof them away."

And he blinked, a very very small wave of relief soothing him. So she had no idea? No, how could she? Why would she? He chose to take solace in that, at the very least, she thought he'd done it himself. But that still didn't solve how he was going to get out of this. His thoughts were still running a mile a minute when she leaned in and caressed his face.

"I know it isn't real...I don't think I could ever actually control you. You can break those at any time but...I like you like this." She spoke softly, seductively, and it actually worked. For a moment his thoughts turned back to her and his throbbing dick standing idly inside her and an unexpected jolt of arousal coursed through him. Sarah flinched and hummed, having felt his erection re-harden and pulse inside her. He was staring at her wide-eyed, like he was caught off guard. The sound of the chains around his wrists clinked as he flexed again, but otherwise he remained quiet. She'd never seen him like this, at a loss during sex. Was this new territory for him? She'd always assumed he'd been bound before… "Shall I take the lead then?"

She leaned away from him slowly, her hands lightly dragging down his torso. It might not be authentic, but she could sure as shit roleplay. His stare never left her, he never even blinked. He just laid there as tense as a brick wall and watched. She moved her hair out of the way and rose her hands behind her back.

"Since you no longer have any say in the matter…" she said, unhooking her bustier to finally free her suffocating breasts. They were a bit sore, so she massaged them sensually. Again Jareth's fists tightened, and the clang rang once more. "I'll give you a safeword. How about ...daffodil. Just say daffodil if things get too intense for you, how's that?" she was playing with him but he looked anything but amused. It was almost like he was glaring at her.

"Sarah…" he said, with a misplaced sense of warning.

"Do you not like that? How about lollipop." She did little to hide how much fun she was already having with just the idea of Jareth calling out_ lollipop i_n the effort to get her to stop. As if that would happen.

Ignoring his queer attitude, she reached down and began to jerk the base of his cock. She felt it pulse again, getting just a little bit harder. She was almost concerned with how tense his posture was, but wasn't about to doubt herself.

She squeezed harder and pumped him, rising off of him somewhat to coat him with her fluids, and then leaned forward to plant kisses across his chest. He inhaled deeply, his chest rising a great deal, and again he pulled against the restraints. He seemed agitated. Maybe she should slow down, stop all together…but she didn't. Instead she rocked her hips, fucking the head of his erection while her fist pumped the base and her tongue flicked across his nipple.

His breathing labored quickly, his heart beating fiercely, but he refused to moan. Determined, she reached down and stroked his balls, sinking herself deeper onto him and undulating with precision. This time his neck arched and he gasped, a small half-moan that wasn't nearly good enough for her.

"Should I keep teasing you Jareth? Should I force you to cum for me? Or should I use you for myself, casting you aside and only coming back when the mood strikes me?" she asked, talking dirty as she leaned forward and nipped his ear. His eyes were closed, and she could tell he was using all his strength to remain composed, but why he bothered she had no idea. He was tensing against the chains tightly, his biceps flexed and a low jingle immitting from the vibration his grip sent through the chains. "I think you need to relax. Try to enjoy yourself...maybe I'll take pity," she whispered, tracing his ear with her tongue and then sucking on the lobe. Jareth's mouth dropped open and a stifled moan escaped him.

What the fuck was happening? Jareth stared at the ceiling as if he could burn a hole through it, forcing his chest to rise and fall in a normal rhythm. His fists were so tight they were completely drained of color, and all he could think of was how he was trapped. How he could not break free. How he really, truly was, for the very first time, at her mercy. And it...it aroused him like never before.

He'd never been helpless. He'd never been at the physical mercy of another, let alone in the bedroom. The times he had been bound, it had always been with the ease of knowing he could be free to do as he pleased at any moment. But this...this was something he never thought he would experience. A mentality completely foreign to him. He was shocked by how turned on he was, by how badly he wanted to give in, to cum and be fucked and cum again. To do so for her. And oh, how well she fit the role. Every word out of her mouth, every lowered glance, every goddamn flicker of her touch made his dick throb and tighten. He'd never felt so helpless, so terrified and titillated all at once. Every part of him was on fire, urging him to break free and fuck her, rip her apart, throw her across the room. And yet he fought it, he fought her provocations as if his life depended on it. If he were to cum now he would be spent and still unable to free himself. He needed to prolong this as long as possible.

"You're getting so hard. You're like a rock," Sarah said, ripping him from his contention. He looked up to her to find her riding him quickly, her head cast back as she fondled herself. He knew she was doing it for him, trying to dismantle him with weapons he now regretted teaching her how to use. Could Liana sense what was going on? Was she laughing at him? Would she come to his aid? Sarah started moaning and it was all he could do not to let go right there.

"Fucking Christ-" he hissed, and Sarah smiled. Her lingo had been rubbing off on him too lately and, as irreverent as this particular phrase was, it made her so happy when he spoke unwittingly like that. Like it was natural. She briefly wondered if he had any idea who or what Christ even was.

"That's right," she said, fucking him harder when his hips gave an involuntary thrust. Subconsciously reaching up, she found a silk rope dangling just over her head. How long had that been there? she wondered. Did Jareth make that too? He must have. She'd thank him later, but for now utilized it to her full advantage.

Wrapping a hand around the rope, she lifted herself slightly, taking the weight off her knees and allowing herself to ride him less strenuously. This also allowed for a more specific range of movement, something Jareth was very quick to take notice of. He opened his eyes and saw she'd conjured yet another device and again panic and fear coursed unforgivingly alongside fierce sexual arousal in a manner no living being should have to undergo. He moaned bitterly, painfully almost and yanked against the chains as hard as he could. It shook the bed, the headboard resounding loudly off the stone wall behind it, but still they held strong. Jareth was beside himself. Was his magic really so weak in the face of Liana?

"Ah, Jareth- you're going to make me cum." Her voice took on a high pitch characteristic of her eminent release, and yet instead of reveling in it he wanted to shout at her that he wasn't doing a damn thing.

No matter how hard he tried, her moans kept calling his attention, drawing his eyes to her and it was getting more and more difficult to look away. Her legs were spread wide over him and she rose high between each thrust, giving him the perfect view of his dick pumping in and out of her. Her breasts, swollen and weighty, bounced with her movements and boasted a healthy sheen of sweat that dripped down to her abdomen. Such a figure would put any pure-blooded fae to shame but -dammit that was not what he needed to be thinking about!

He hadn't even realized how long his gaze had been transfixed nor the sound of his own voice as he gave in to moan.

Sarah gasped again and let go of the rope, falling forward to lean over him, sweat dripping from her forehead to his.

"Jesus you're hard," she said more seriously, wincing a bit as she continued to take him in. "Do you want to cum that badly?" she asked, and as his eyes raked over her face he couldn't help himself from saying,

"Yes."

"Yes?" Sarah repeated, as if that were incorrect. He screwed his eyes shut and groaned, arching his back in frustration.

"Ugh, yes!" he said, frustration of every sort wracking through him. He hated himself just then. Hated that he couldn't help himself, that he couldn't control himself. And at the same time it was liberating. He wished he could enjoy it openly, but the repercussions were too severe. He needed to get out of these restraints. He needed to know the extent of Sarah's control over them. He needed to fucking fill her full of his cum.

Sarah traced a finger along his lips and smiled teasingly.

"Not before me," she said, then leaned down to kiss his neck.

Dear God. What was this creature and what had it done with Sarah. He was already kicking himself for not appreciating the glorious fuck she was giving him, but every thought of her or her touch or her taste or smell or her ass riding him or her beautiful breasts pushing against him brought him closer and closer to actual ruin. She was sucking on his neck raggedly, intentionally bruising the skin. The sensation was overwhelming but this time he didn't tear away. He wanted to cum, just as much if not more than escaping; he wanted to pound away inside her and fill her to the brim. He wanted her to moan and scream his name and claw his skin and wilt for him. He wanted-he wanted-

And then Sarah pulled away. Her hands fisted the blanket on either side of his head and she began moaning low and loud. She'd had her legs spread wider, her pelvis held lower, and he'd been unwittingly fucking her senseless. She was so wet, the sounds of her fluids lapping between their bodies was loud and shameless and she'd angled herself for perfect penetration. This was it. He couldn't fight it anymore. He was going to give in to her, consequences be damned. He started to moan with her, though hers grew considerably louder. Her arms tensed around him, her insides clenched and he gasped in reaction to it. She called out his name, throwing her head back as she came violently, unabashedly, selfishly. Her hot cunt sucked him on every thrust, thick juices coating him and soaking the bed beneath them. She was so hot. He'd never been more attracted to her than in that moment. He could feel his dick hardening, pulsating in the preparation to cum. He was about to lose it, really lose it. In a last ditch effort, he pulled on the restraints one more time with everything he had.

In a flash they were flying across the bed. The force of Jareth's pull had been so strong that once the bands snapped both he and Sarah were sent crashing forward. She yelped in shock but had no time to adjust. Jareth slammed her down, pinned her fiercely like a dog and fucked her harder and faster than he ever had. Sarah screamed and he came. He came loudly, furiously, with anger and tension and passion and residual fear. His moan was hoarse, his grip on her body painful and she winced and pulled against it. For minutes it seemed to last, wave after wave of bitter orgasm crashing through him like nothing he'd ever felt before. He clung to her. He held her, totally unaware and without care for bones that may be breaking under such strain. Sarah cried out again, screamed his name in plea to release her, but it was only when the words _Stop -you're hurting me_ phased through his ears that he regained control of himself.

His grip on her arms loosened immediately and the roaring sound of his own breathing surrounded him. His forehead was pressed into the bed beside hers, his gaze searing and hot. Sweat fell from his brow and it seemed every muscle in his body was tense. Sarah was grimacing beneath him but he physically couldn't move himself just yet.

After a moment he uncurled his hands from her arms and fisted the blanket instead. His breathing was still heavy but had slowed -if only marginally. Sarah meanwhile kept quiet and could only stare at him. He seemed like a wild animal, the strain of regaining equilibrium physically evident as his arms flexed around her. She gave him a minute, not quite sure if this was a good or bad thing.

"Um...Jareth?"

"I'm sorry," he blurted, and she turned her head towards him. His brow was screwed tight and he kept his gaze strictly at the bed. He had yet to move, to do anything other than calm his breathing. Knowing she was looking at him, he closed his eyes and swallowed hard, his throat hoarse. "I'm sorry for hurting you. I just...I need a moment," he said and then sighed roughly, a sense of relief she interpreted as relaxation finally coming over him. His arms started to buckle a little, so he gave in to rest some of his weight on her. Sarah, beginning to realize this reaction of his was something more serious, rose a hand to his back and kissed his shoulder in a soothing gesture.

"It's okay...I'm fine," she said, her voice meek. His back was slick beneath her palm, and she ran it from his shoulder down his spine. "...Did I do something wrong?" she finally asked, not quite sure what was happening. Jareth scowled into the sheets, but was careful not to let her see.

"No," he was quick to say, then shook his head. His hands shifted, just wanting to make sure he really was free, and then he relaxed completely. "No, of course not. I just…I've never been restrained before." Sarah stared at him with something of concern when he paused and vaguely shook his head with what seemed like shame. When he continued his tone was a bit uneven. "I've never felt...I've never done anything like that." Sarah found it hard to remain sympathetic as her confusion grew.

"What are you talking about? You've definitely been restrained before...right? The way you made it seem…" Her voice tapered off when his brow rose incredulously.

"Not like that," he said. His eyes were closed again, his brow furrowed tight. It was a look that didn't sit well with her. It was pained, frustrated. From her perspective it had no right being on his face.

"I don't understand." No, of course she didn't, because he was acting like a total boob right now. What the hell was wrong with him? "Jareth?" And he huffed sharply, turning away.

"Forgive me. I just had the most _profound_ sexual experience of my life and am having some trouble pulling myself together, alright?" he said, with brutal honesty because, well, what else was there? He couldn't bring himself to look at her, feeling a queer and unwanted sense of vulnerability that seemed to have him babbling away without filter.

"What-really?" Sarah gaped and shoved him off of her. He wasn't expecting it and simply fell onto the bed from her weak gesture. She stared at him wide-eyed. Jareth rolled onto his back and threw an arm across his forehead. His heart was still racing and he stared at the ceiling. He didn't know how to interpret all that he was feeling. Right now, his primary urges were to either run straight to Liana or simply pass out from total satisfaction. "So...it was good? It seems...like maybe it wasn't," he heard her say. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath.

"It was…." It was clear there was a word hanging off the end of his tongue, what it could possibly be neither he nor Sarah had the slightest clue. Instead, his sentence was cut short by a sigh, one that deflated Sarah's own expression to a frown.

"I'm...sorry? If you were that bothered by it why didn't you just break free? You're the one who tied yourself down," she said, getting a little bit defensive. She really didn't get it. Was he angry that she'd taken the lead like that? He said the experience was profound but that didn't necessarily mean it was positive. She started to doubt herself and cast her eyes downward with insecurity. It was then that he said something quite surprising.

"I couldn't break free."

"What?"

Jareth chose his next words carefully. He was blatantly unable to get his shit together and he knew the presumptions Sarah must be making. He needed to explain himself...as best he could.

"I couldn't...break free from the chains," he repeated, grimacing in shame at the feel of her stare on him widening anew.

"But-how? You did it to your-"

"I suppose in the heat of the moment," he quickly interrupted her. "I got carried away and made them unnecessarily strong. Even though it be by my own magic, think of it as an enchantment that once made cannot so easily be unmade." The hand strewn above his head began to fist, though she failed to see it. His response was total bullshit and he prayed her ignorance of magic would be his saving grace. But even still, the more he talked the more level-headed he became, which only allowed feelings of frustration and incompetence to worm through. He waited for Sarah to respond, growing nervous with how long she took to ponder.

"So…" she finally started, staring down at the weaving of the comforter as she thought. "You really were restrained then…" He peered over at her unexpected response, a mistake it seemed as her eager eyes then pounced. "Is that why you looked like you were about to lose your shit the whole time?" she asked, drawing near to his face in what seemed to be excitement. Jareth's brow knitted again and his jaw clenched.

"Mind repeating that?" he asked, sardonically, with an attitude that had Sarah realizing she may be being tactless. This was obviously a big deal to him...maybe she should be more sensitive.

"Sorry it's just...If it freaked you out why didn't you say anything? We could have just stopped…" And this time her brow drew when he laughed impulsively. It was an exasperated noise, one accompanied by a shake of the head and an eye roll towards the ceiling.

"Stop? There is no stopping with you," he said, with a small measure of ease, and turned to look at her with a faint smile. Sarah's returning grin was unsure of itself, unsure of whether she should press the issue further or let it go. "Are you sure you're alright?" he asked and a hand subconsciously went to her arm where he held her down.

"I...it's sore," she admitted. "But I'm fine." She didn't like the way his look on her changed and thought maybe she should have said something else. In a way she still didn't understand, he always became deeply upset when he hurt her outside the realm of "punishment" and while the empathy he showed in those moments was reassuring it was in no way enjoyable. He withdrew his arm and shifted so he could turn towards her, then reached out as if to grasp her. That's when Sarah's eyes went wide. "Oh my God, Jareth, your wrists!"

Jareth peered down just as Sarah was yanking his arms away from him, and even he too was a little surprised.

"Holy hell, you're covered in blood. Are you serious?"

She was holding his arms close to her face, the tips of her finger lightly tracing the small rings and cuts dug into his skin. Jareth pulled them away from her with a shrug.

"It took a great deal of effort to break free. You were hoping for an authentic experience, were you not?" he asked, casually. Sarah just shook her head.

"You're a freaking maniac, you know that? Jesus Jareth…"

"So you're not ready for blood play yet, noted," he said, which earned him a stern glare.

"Does it hurt?" she asked, reaching out for him again, and again he shooed her away.

"Relax. I didn't even notice." For her satisfaction, he rose his arms up for her and turned them from side to side as he healed the wounds. Her eyes scoured fiercely as the little cuts quickly retracted. "See? All better." While normally he would have relished the chance to have Sarah dote on him, over this particular matter he'd rather divert her attention. She didn't know enough about magic to question him, but even so he was walking on thin ice with this one.

He reigned in his sarcastic expression when he saw her own become twisted and huffy.

"All better my ass. You're getting blood all over my bed," she muttered, grumbling to herself as she pushed off the bed and stomped her way to the bathroom. He appreciated her total disregard of modesty along the way. When she returned she had a wettened towel in hand. "Here," she said, tersely and took one of his hands. She cleaned him up with minor annoyance, and he supposed his blase reaction to her tender concern was the reason for it. She was scowling down at him, but he could tell beneath the bravado she was actually worrying over him.

"Hey," he said, earning an impulsive glance. He caught her chin at just the right moment and pulled her in for a kiss. It was tender, appreciative, and apparently the right move to make. He felt her attitude leave through an exhale as he prolonged the kiss, and only pulled away once her brow had softened. He leaned back down to the bed, and her eyes caught on his hand along the way.

"You're still wearing the ring," she stated. Jareth rose a brow and brought one bloodless hand to rest behind his head.

"Rings are meant to be worn, are they not?" he replied. Sarah's gaze fell with pursed lips as she finished wiping off his other wrist and then released it to him. She couldn't formulate the right way to convey herself, to express how strange seeing a ring on his finger made it all seem. Was this the new norm? Were they simply a married couple now? It seemed otherworldly. Mostly because she was, in fact, still wearing hers too. "Would you prefer I take it off?"

Sarah blinked and looked over at him, realizing she'd been holding a hand over her stomach protectively.

"What? No. Why?" she asked.

"You looked disappointed just now," he said, tilting his head to one side. "Everything alright?" She shook her head subtly and laid back down next to him.

"Yeah. I just...feel kind of weird all of a sudden," she said, wondering why there was a deeply unsettled feeling now churning in her stomach. She nestled her head on his chest and cast her arm across his torso to distract herself from it. "I think I'm going to go to sleep. Are you staying?"

"Are you asking?"

"Yeah."

"Then yes." He curled his arm to pull her close and pressed a kiss against her forehead. She seemed tired now, while he was wired and nervous. How he would love to drift off together in such an embrace, to feel her bare skin against his and feel their breath slow in tandem. It was just one more detail he'd overlooked when planning the rest of his life with her, one more detail that made changing that plan worth everything. He would strive to keep this bliss, as long as he could.

He waited until she was sleeping soundly before leaving, tucked her in and moved the pillows to accommodate their inverted position. He'd come back in the morning, before she would ever know he was gone. He may have gotten free this time, but wicked portents now loomed overhead. He was about to take her out into the world and give her the reigns, but they weren't ready for this. He needed to find Liana, to make sure she was safe. To make sure that_ he _was safe.

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**A/N- **Thanks again for reading. Stay tuned for the next installment!


	118. Rock and a Hot Place, part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N - Alrightyyy. Lots of things are happening, so I had to cut this chapter in two. Quick note before you begin, there is a SONG AND DANCE NUMBER featured in this chapter. Tehe. It is 'Lady Grinning Soul' by David Bowie, and I think it is imperative that, should you be unfamiliar with the song, you listen to it before hand to really be able to understand the scene. Now, while this is a real song, in the context of the chapter it is not. Therefore, I have changed a few of the lyrics to better reflect the situation. I hope you enjoy it, as it was a bit tricky for me to write. Still not entirely sure how successful I was, but it's as good as I can make it. That is all. Enjoy.

Chapter 24, Rock and a Hot Place, part 1

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The air was sweet today. Particularly so. The sun shone brightly as long-weathered clouds began their gradual dispel. What was once grey and coarse, now turned vibrant and soft. What was once cold now thawed. She inhaled deeply of it, this renewal of life. The first true day of spring.

T'was her favorite day. Not time of year, no, but a single day. It was like she knew, like she knew the exact moment the seasons changed, when seeds deep beneath the soil awoke and warmed like babes from a sound slumber. Petals and early blossoms, loosened from their clusters, fluttered away in the breeze. These buds had been too eager, having roused themselves before the final frost, and were now swept away. Their moment here was fleeting, their eagerness punished with an ephemeral light.

She wondered where their paths took them, those tiny delicate things, what places they might see, what anguish and indignity they may suffer as they rotted and withered. She wondered how fast the color would pale from their flesh, how soon their edges would curl and crimp. Was such a thing to be mourned? Or appreciated all the more?

She shifted away when the breeze changed directions and nipped the side of her face. A gentle lover, she mused, silent and taunting. Father would curse her for dallying, but she couldn't help it. Once again, Aurelia was daydreaming.

She walked back to her family's manor with two buckets in tow. She'd been preparing the gardens and was heading back to the well to fetch more water. Dirt stained her hands and she kept the skirt of her dress tied in the front. She knew Mother would shame her should she be seen, but that would require her to leave the comfort of the house. Father would make clear his disapproval, although he had given up on his lecturing long ago. Yes, there were servants perfectly capable of tending the garden, but there was just something so gratifying about toiling the soil with one's own hands, of watching the fruits of your labors bloom before you. They simply didn't understand. Yet they were the first to appreciate the carefully crafted bouquets that, to them, mysteriously appeared upon their tables and basked in their windows with each season.

She reached the well and began to draw up the bucket. She had asked for a well to be dug closer to the garden, though Father had refused. She imagined he thought the added physical burden would be enough to dissuade her from such trifles. Instead, she only held her head low so as not to see him scowling from the window.

"Lady Aurelia! Lady Aurelia!" Aurelia peered up and wiped a bead of sweat from her forehead. It was one of her father's servants. He was running at her from the main house. Wait, why was he running? "Milady -" he said, having finally reached her, panting softly as he caught his breath. Aurelia simply stared, waiting for him to continue. "I'm sorry. Forgive my duress. Your parents are requesting your presence immediately," he said. Aurelia pouted. Surely they were not going to begrudge her. She was given one hour a day to work and, judging by the height of the sun, she still had about twenty minutes left.

"Do you know why?" she asked.

"Not precisely, milady. Though I believe you are expecting a guest shortly."

"Oh?" she said, having been unaware of such a thing. Normally her parents made a week-long fuss whenever a guest was expected. They were in dire need of any positive courtship, or so they believed. Oh dear, they must be feeling quite the panic if they themselves were given such short notice. "Alright. I'll be in shortly-" she said, turning to finish her task. The man seemed to flinch nervously and reached out for the bucket before her hand could grasp the handle.

"Forgive me again, I know it is insolent but-" he was looking down, but his eyes flickered up nervously. Aurelia's hand curled back to her side and she straightened up. "I am to finish the remainder of your tasks, milady. Your parents request you bathe and change immediately and to...um...use the servant entrance." He winced at the tail end of his sentence, for he knew from past and frequent experience what her reaction might be.

Her brow rose and her eyes widened a bit. The audacity and insult such a request implied had her fighting off a scowl with all her might. In her youth, she might have thrown a tantrum and made a spectacle of the whole estate. Her parent's constant worry over decorum had made for a stifling childhood, to the point where even such minuscule acts as this had her battling down a fluttering heart. She was however no longer a child and had been learning that it was more advantageous for her to bite the lip until it bled and be, seemingly, as they wanted her. It was better for everyone else to be happy, she thought. And perhaps, in time, she might earn some small concession -like the garden.

And so, against the poor courier's presumptions, Aurelia did not frown. Instead she tilted her head in acknowledgement and went on her way. The servant's entrance was on the complete other side of the manor. She'd be wasting more time trying to be discreet than simply walking in through the front door. Was their guest already here?

She entered the house and went straight to her room, growing curious at the way the staff seemed to be fevered in their hustle. It seemed they too had been caught off guard. She washed herself quickly and put on a fresh gown. Knowing her parents, an informal dress like the one she'd been wearing simply wouldn't do. A couple of her lady's maids were busy tightening her corsets and knotting her hair when a knock came at the door.

"Yes?" she called. The door opened to reveal Dresden, her father's steward.

"Milady, are you about finished?" he asked, a little hushed. This time Aurelia did frown.

"Yes. Why, may I ask, have you come to call on me and not Mother?" That was certainly strange. Very rarely did her parents send Dresden in their stead.

"They are preoccupied with greeting our guest," he said. "They urge you to join them as soon as possible."

"Who is this guest? And why have they arrived so suddenly?" she asked. She saw a twitch of sorts move through his brow but couldn't discern it. He too seemed nervous.

"It is a King, milady," he said, averting his eyes to the shock that fell plainly over her. "So please, do compose yourself." He closed the door and left, leaving Aurelia bemused and terrified. On instinct she'd assumed he meant Broden, the King of Yore, but soon realized that's not what he said, was it? A sinking feeling crept over her, for she could not fathom any possible reason why any King, let alone the one she suspected, would ever visit here.

She shuffled down the hall to the foyer, as that was where she was told they were, curious to why they had not retired to somewhere more comfortable. The foyer was large, with high ceilings and windows, a decorative table marked the center, but it was otherwise without furniture. She imagined how awkward her parents must be feeling, standing in the entryway with a King whilst they bought time for their frivolous daughter. It was then that she realized she'd forgotten to scrub the dirt from under her fingernails.

She entered from the far end of the room, quietly, so that she might survey their circumstances.

She saw her parents. They were standing close together with their backs to her, effectively concealing any improper entrance she might possibly make, and she almost rolled her eyes at their transparency. She could hear them talking. Her mother's voice was higher than usual, her father's lower, their words enunciated and indicative of their anxiety. She also heard to whom they were speaking, heard his casual drawl and deep, unreciprocated laugh. She was in disbelief. Even as she saw him, she didn't believe it.

"Ah, and there she is," Jareth said, a wide snaking grin creasing his face as he watched her draw near. Aurelia slowed but her eyes stayed fixated on his, revealing blatantly how alarmed she was by his presence. The look changed entirely however once she peered over to greet her parents.

"Mother. Father," she said, with practiced demure, and turned back to Jareth. He rose a slight brow at the shift in her posture, the gentle pull of her eyelids. "Your Majesty, what a pleasure it is to see you again," she said. Jareth's smile renewed itself. Oh, this was going to be fun.

"A pleasure, indeed," he said, and surprised her parents by reaching out and kissing the back of her hand. Aurelia remained well composed, though could feel the itch of her mother's gaze undoubtedly looking for fault in her attire. She curled her hands then, hoping to hide her indecency.

"May I ask what brings you to our home?" she asked, directly. Jareth eased back and tilted his head. His hair, falling long on one side, glinted in the sharp light from the window. Hm, so straight to it, was she?

"I'm traveling the area," he said, waving a nonchalant hand through the air. "Broden and Bryce are looking for fresh hunting grounds and I thought perhaps I might stop in for a spell," he said, letting her see the artifice in his eyes. This worried Aurelia greatly, but why she wasn't sure. "As I was just telling your parents, your King himself is camped not too far from here. Perhaps they might extend an invitation themselves and earn some favor." He shot them an eye to which they nodded in acknowledgement; although, through demeanor alone, Jareth made it otherwise clear Aurelia was the only one he was interested in speaking with. She didn't like the way her parents deferred to him, as she realized it was with the same fear and submission she herself had displayed when she'd found out who he was at the tea party. That was some weeks ago now and she felt differently this round. As though she could see him in a way that they could not. This mood however did nothing to change her respect for him or his authority.

"Then I must thank you," she said, smiling meekly. "Such news is really quite advantageous for us. But may I ask...how did you know where I live?" Perhaps that was a baited question, one she regretted asking after catching the air of connivery that brightened his eyes. It seemed that whatever they truly wished to say was, it would not be said in view of her parents.

"My staff keep detailed records," he said, coyly, though dismissively, as he took a step around her. "I say Lord Emayluss, your manor is quite impressive."

"Oh, thank you Your Majesty!"

"I should like to see more of it and perhaps, if it's no inconvenience, share in the company of your dining hall? I find myself feeling a little peckish after a long day's ride." He spoke with inflection but no one doubted he was _not_ making a request, and in truth such a demand brought her parents great excitement.

"Of course Your Majesty! You honor us, truly. Perhaps, now that she has finally arrived, Aurelia here will give you a tour of the grounds after we feast."

"It would be a great pleasure, Your Majesty." Jareth paused his pacing and peered back to her. Their eyes locked but she gave nothing away.

"Pleasure, yes," he said, cryptically and turned to offer her his hand. "I Insisted we wait for your arrival before making ourselves too comfortable. I hope you didn't feel rushed?" he asked, though she could sense from his tone that was precisely what he had been hoping for. So he had done this on purpose then? Was he trying to catch them off guard?

"Not at all," she replied, smiling just as shrewdly as he. His eyes narrowed for just a moment. She seemed better prepared than when they'd first met.

"Hm, shall we then, milady?" Without response she took his arm and held it gently, worried over the hitch in her breath that the mere touch of him had sparked.

* * *

Dinner was pleasant for no-one but Jareth. All members of the house, staff included, operated on pins and needles, fearful should they say the wrong thing or worse -bore him. Emayluss presided over a comparatively small dominion and none of them were accustomed to hosting such a high ranking individual, especially one as strange as the King of Goblins. Word of his impending arrival came mere minutes before the man himself. He came alone, in the middle of the day, without a royal caravan, and with a truly unnerving sense of familiarity. Rumors of his mercurial moods were commonplace and far-fetched, and left much to their quivering imaginations. Still, they carried on in seemingly perfect stride. If nothing else, the house of Seerva'nah was well practiced.

Aurelia however was unusually quiet, choosing to instead observe as much as she could. Jareth, oblivious to, or perhaps sadistically enthused by, the steady unnerving of his companions his company provoked, chattered on with enough conversation to speak for the lot of them. He tried, numerous times, to draw her in but she knew better. She'd learned from their previous meeting just what type of predator he was. He enjoyed feeding off of other people, asserting dominance by instilling insecurity in those around him. If she spoke too willfully or directly he might lure her into something she would assuredly regret. And all the while she kept wondering what his purpose was for being there in the first place. After the way their last conversation ended, she didn't think she would ever see him again.

He sat at the head of the table, she immediately to his right. Her mother and father sat reflecting them on the far end. In between sat her uncle and two cousins, none of whom Jareth had acknowledged in the slightest.

"Honestly, I'm surprised you remember our dear Aurelia. From her own account, it didn't seem like she'd made much of an impression," said her mother. Aurelia had enough grace not to show her annoyance, though Jareth knew better, glancing down from time to time at the subtle tension she exuded into the hold of her fork.

"Oh, I'm sure she was merely being modest. She caught a number of eyes that day," he said, hoping to earn a small rise out of her. However, again, she remained silent and tactful.

"Well that is splendid news then. We were starting to fear for the poor girl." Her mother was pleased, though her tone didn't necessarily reflect it. Her father, growing annoyed with his wife's lack of tact, shot her private glares repeatedly.

And so dinner carried on, the cycle of farcical conversation holding no interest to Aurelia, who was only growing more and more disappointed in Jareth. He was putting on a show for them, a malicious satirical show at their own expense, but a show nonetheless. She knew that wasn't him. She knew nothing else about him but that.

"I say, that was a splendid meal My Lord, My Lady, and you have proven to be very gracious hosts," Jareth finally said, in conclusion it seemed, as he pushed away from the table. Aurelia breathed a sigh of relief. Perhaps he would leave just as suddenly as he'd appeared.

"Not hardly, Your Majesty. We are entirely at your disposal," her father said, gesturing for the servants lurking in the corners to clear away the table.

"Your Majesty, may I inquire how long it is you plan to stay with us? Shall we prepare a room?" asked her mother and, for some reason, this time Aurelia was unable to smother her reaction. It was still hard to believe he was really here, eating dinner with her and her parents, but would he really stay the night? Indefinitely? Why?! Jareth patted the corner of his mouth with a napkin.

"No. I think I've imposed on your hospitality long enough. I'll head back to Broden's camp before nightfall. All that's left now is that tour, right Aurelia?" He'd turned his head to look at her as he said her name, and so she set down her fork gently.

"If that is His Majesty's wish," she said, meeting his gaze. Jareth smiled, set down his napkin, and stood. The rest of the family reciprocated in tandem. It was in that split second that she wondered when her mother would assign her an escort. She'd never been alone with a man (to their knowledge), and thus became worried when neither said a thing. She peered at them and was taken aback by the urgency she found waiting in both their gazes. They _wanted_ her to be alone with him. Like she was a calf being pushed towards the slaughter. Her mouth dropped open slightly, as if abashed, though the look quickly reversed itself when the urgency became irate. It seemed she was indeed to lead him throughout the shadowed corridors of their home alone and unguarded. How obscene. As her mood sank, she wondered what repercussions awaited her should she let them down again.

"My dear?"

She heard Jareth's voice calling to her and realized she'd been distracted. She turned towards him with fluttering lashes and graciously accepted his hand as he held it out to her. He paid her parents, nor anyone else, any mind as she escorted him to the door.

"I think we'll start with the garden. My parents are quite proud of it."

* * *

Aurelia was completely silent as they made the trek from the manor to the gardens arm in arm. Jareth did not mind, still enjoying the spectacle her parents had made of themselves. He'd inquired earlier from Bryce, the crowned prince of Yore, for information regarding Aurelia and her family. It seemed the girl's grandfather had made a series of poor decisions in his youth resulting in a dramatic fall from court favor. Despite being a duke, they were effectively ostracized. Her father, Emayluss, had made great strides to restore the family's relationship with the crown, but was less than successful. They really were desperate in their attempts to please him. Pitiful really, as if they were starving for stature. And it was clear they had great ambitions for their daughter to make up for their shortcomings. No wonder she felt so suffocated by it.

They entered the garden, though to Jareth's confusion there was not much of a garden to enter.

"Your parents are proud of this?" he asked, curtly, his eyes roaming from a barren tree overhead to a brittle bush at their feet. In the center was a pond, small, and still muddied from the winter thaw. He saw Aurelia smile then. Her first real expression.

"No. No, they despise it. I only said that to get a rise out of them," she said, releasing his arm to step away as she giggled to herself. Jareth narrowed his eyes. That was unexpected. "This garden is actually mine. My project, at least. I'm only allowed a short time each day to toil it, so the process is slow. It will however become beautiful once summer arrives." She drifted away as she spoke, the tips of her fingers grazing along dead branches wistfully.

"They find a Lady tending a garden to be improper?" he asked, and she turned back to him as if surprised.

"Do you not?"

Jareth shrugged and stepped towards her. They were moving further into the garden and hopefully out of her parent's gaze.

"I don't see the harm," he said, reaching up to flick a dying bud from a branch. Aurelia's eyes spied him discreetly.

"That is...refreshing to hear. Please, would you like to sit with me for a moment?" she asked, gesturing towards a stone bench. She took a seat without his response, so he obliged her. "I truly do love this place. Nature is a many splendored thing."

"Well, sunshine and flowers do seem to match your complexion," he said and she laughed softly. A hand instinctively rose to her mouth and her eyes lowered. It was a reaction that bothered him, the way she felt compelled to hide what was really a truly radiant face.

"You flatter me, Your Majesty," she said, glancing away as if to conceal her lingering smile. Her golden hair gleamed in the natural light, her cheeks and nose rosy from the slight chill still lingering in the air. She was a lovely thing to look at, really. Though he found her to be out of place propped against a backdrop of things dead and grey.

"Jareth." And she glanced back in surprise. "Call me Jareth," he repeated, and watched as her smile faded completely. Her posture, once relaxed, now stiffened and her back arched properly as her hands folded in her lap. He'd caught her off guard again.

"Yes, well. Might I ask then, Jareth, the real reason for your visit?" She wanted to be quick, to get to the point of all this as she knew he was still being something less than himself. She did not like being played with. She'd told him that already...

"Don't do that."

Aurelia blinked and looked back to him.

"Do what?"

She was surprised by how intensely he was looking at her, how close his shoulder was to hers.

Jareth bit the inside of his lip before responding. There was something about her that bothered him. He wasn't quite enjoying himself as he once was.

"You behave differently around them," he said and her brow tensed. He tilted his head and inched a little closer. "Or perhaps, you behave differently around me. Is it because we're alone?" Aurelia swallowed but didn't respond right away. He was making her uncomfortable. She only hoped her parents couldn't see.

"I...I'm not sure...if we're being watched," she said, sitting rigidly. Jareth eased back and glanced towards the house. It was faint, but he could see the silhouette of someone peeking out a window. That's when he realized it wasn't he whom she was putting on airs for, but them. Irritated, he rose a hand and in an instant a wall of thorns grew to obstruct them from view. Aurelia gasped and shifted back. "Wha-how did you do that?" she asked, having never seen such effortless magic. Jareth, ignoring her reaction, turned towards her and leaned in.

"They make you insecure, don't they?" he asked and she glared back defensively.

"Pardon?" she asked, and he was amazed with how instantaneously her mannerisms changed once safe from their scrutiny.

"I think I understand now, what you were trying to say when we first met," he said and showed mercy by leaning a safe distance away. Aurelia pursed her lips and eyed him suspiciously, for there was now a change in him too. He looked more familiar to her all of the sudden, like the version she'd first met in the hall.

"Yes well, I'm not the only one who acts according to company, am I?" she countered. "I could ask the same of you, you know."

"No, I don't."

"The farce," she said, shifting in her seat. "The one you described when we met. You've been putting on the same pretense from the moment you arrived." She was staring up at him all wide-eyed and angry, or at least a version of anger that suited her. Jareth furrowed his brow just slightly. He didn't like being inspected so brazenly. "I don't like it. That doppler whom you and everyone else seem to think is so charming." He might have been offended had she not looked away just then, had she not crossed her arms and frowned. She looked disappointed, like he had let her down, and he found himself feeling the queer and unwelcome sense to apologize.

"You think it a pretense?" he asked, baiting her to insult him further. She was looking away from him now, out over the garden. She looked frustrated.

"I know it is," she said, turning back to face him. "I know because I'm not the only one who sighed in relief once that wall went up." Her look on him was hard, scolding almost, and Jareth found himself drawn into it. She was right, he had felt relieved once they were truly alone, truly able to speak without first hand-picking each word.

"You're right," he conceded, to her surprise. "I am unfortunately accustomed to court life and as you've learned, in such a culture paintings are more real than people." And to that Aurelia's scowl softened. She was gearing up for debate but realized they were one in the same. Perhaps that was why she was able to see through him so quickly. They both lived lives as seen through everyone else's eyes. It was exhausting, and she'd recognized the same exhaustion in him the moment they met. But talking with him, whether it be here, or the hall, or the couch in his castle, was easy. She was surprised and deeply unnerved by just how easy it was.

"Well, at least you seem to enjoy your facade, tearing down those around you nerve by nerve," she said and, curiously to Jareth, her tone was not judgemental. No, she was speaking genuinely, as if it was an ability she longed for. He felt sorry for her. Sorry she'd been raised to have such a yearning. The need to control those around him was something that benefited him now, yes, but he would have rather had a life that rendered him without the _need _in the first place.

"I couldn't help it," he said, turning away from her and biting his cheek. "Your parents, from the moment I set foot in their door, they did nothing but condescend you. Every other line was about something you lacked. They were trying to sell you, and at the same time establishing your worthlessness. It was becoming a bit annoying really." He was staring ahead at the thorns, glaring almost, while his fingers tapped along the bench. She watched him eagerly, surprised with how much his admission affected her. Maybe they were more alike than she had yet realized.

"I would say worthlessness is a bit excessive. They mean well. It is difficult, yes...managing their expectations. Though that is perhaps because I am not an easy child," she said, and it disappointed him how readily she defended them, recognizing the bitter undertone that lined her words all too well.

"Yes, they would have you be painted and strung, undue and well-silenced. Such a thing really would be worthless. Meanwhile, you'd rather yourself here, prostrate in the mud. Perhaps I should reveal to them just how worthwhile your worthlessness is." She felt his hand curl around hers and looked down to find him tracing the tips of his fingers along the lines of dirt still stuck under her nails. The contact, unexpectedly intimate, provoked something in her. She almost pulled away, but she didn't. Instead she held onto his hand in return.

"Why have you come here, Jareth?" she asked again, softly this time, and turned to look him square in the eye. Surely, it wasn't merely in spite of her parents. He clutched her hand more firmly and she drew in a breath of anticipation before he released it altogether and stood.

"It's simple really," he said, looking to the ground in a haphazard gesture. "I think you should marry me."

"What?" Aurelia's eyes widened and she too stood. He was pacing away from her, towards the pond, and she followed suit. "Why?" she asked. He shrugged.

"I believe we would make a good match," he said, and she shook her head.

"But I've already told you, I have no desire to marry you," she said, and quickly withdrew her impassioned tone. Jareth cocked his head and glanced back at her. She looked worried. He wasn't sure what to make of it.

"And that is precisely what makes us a good match," he said. Aurelia just stared, at a loss.

"I...I don't understand," she said, sounding defeated, as if her fate had been sealed then and there. Jareth turned around to face her fully and gestured his hands towards her.

"You're different," he said, as if that was all the explanation needed, and watched as she moved quickly to join him at his side. She'd grasped the front of his jacket and stared up at him urgently, wondering why this all seemed so mundane to him. Until just now she thought she'd seen in him a kindred spirit. But this, this she had no understanding of. He sighed then, falling prey to her wide gleaming eyes. "I told you when we met. I do not want a wife who will watch me too closely. I have no time to play house." He spoke gently now, reaching up to pull on her chin before glancing away. Her hand fell back to her side.

"No time? What do you mean?" He was staring down at the pond now, falsely distracted. His brow was furrowed, like he didn't want to say what came next.

"I have an ambition," he said, placing his hands in the pockets of his jacket. It was a gesture of retreat that Aurelia recognized immediately. He was trying to close himself off from her. After all that conversation he was pulling away now. She didn't like it. She didn't want him to turn away. "One. Above all else," he continued. "I cannot afford distraction. I have very little attention to give and you seem like a wife who would require little attending." He spoke plainly but it wasn't registering with the same sense to Aurelia. She looked hurt, or possibly just bemused. He was watching her from his peripheral, but then furrowed his brow again and looked away. "You don't like to be watched," he added and she pursed her lips. "Neither do I. Having a superficial wife, as we discussed, would be...stifling."

"But I don't understand. Your reputation makes you out to be quite the...libertine." And her eyes lowered bashfully. If there was ever a time for her innocence to put her at a disadvantage, it was now. Yes, she'd heard many tales on the walk through his castle, many instances of him and his partners intimately described. Was he really planning to resign himself from all that? Jareth cracked a smirk and huffed.

"_Hmph_, well there is always time for that," he said, flippantly. Aurelia glared, unreceptive of his misplaced humor. Another effort to distance himself from her, she noted. She really didn't like it. She was about to retort but then something struck her. A deeper reason for his insufferable charm, and the real reason why it bothered her so much. He was putting on a facade yes, but he wasn't trying to control the people around him, at least not because he enjoyed it. No, he did it to keep them away, to make sure they didn't see the shadow in his eye or the falter in his grin. To make sure they didn't see what she could see so plainly in him now. _He did not want someone who would watch him too closely_. And yet he wanted her.

Her annoyance quelled and she found herself frowning.

"You make yourself an enigma and expect me, anyone, not to be curious?" she asked, and he peered over at the strange sense of frailty he heard in her voice. "Might you at least tell me what this ambition is that must keep you from falling prey to any manner of intimacy?" Her question was one laced with pure naivety, her tone holding an eagerness, hopefulness, that Jareth could honestly only laugh at. Minding his manners however, he restrained himself to cracking an incredulous smile.

"You ask that as if intimacy is a good thing. In my experience, it is not," he said, effectively shooting her down. "My purpose, my vocation as it were, has always been to acquire...that is...to_ fix _what is broken. To amend...the legacy of my family. I do not care for anyone or anything else. I cannot." He was staring down at her now, at those big round eyes that were bluer than the sky and perfect honey-colored hair. She looked like a doll, the shine in her glass eyes wistful and directed solely at him. It was almost too much, too direct. Thankfully she broke the moment with the curl of a pouting lip.

"That is noble of you, yes," she started, then glanced away towards the water. "But I don't see...what incentive there is for me in all this. You're saying you only want me because I do not want you? What a dreadful future you paint for the two of us." She felt so very sad all of the sudden. Sad because of how sad the man before her was, more so because he didn't even realize it. She'd proposed to him before that if not love, he should instead find a companion, and she thought perhaps that was what he saw in her. The kindred spirit. It seemed now though that was not the case. His proposition of her was as superficial as the alternative he condemned. She pitied him. Truly.

In that moment he'd revealed himself and she saw him clearly. He was alone. Alone in a way that no one knew, in a way that she felt but could not decipher. And this was the only connection he would permit himself to make. He said this was what he wanted but the fact that he was reaching out to her spoke differently, didn't it? She didn't know what to do. She was afraid, afraid of how badly she wanted to look at him.

"Paint it yourself."

Aurelia's plight fell dead in its tracks as her head whipped up to face him. Their eyes locked and he leaned in close, bringing his hands to hold the sides of her face.

"_That_ is what I offer you," he continued. "I hold no expectations. No passive aggressions or downward glances. You may run your life as you see fit. Toil in your garden, butcher your own cattle, sew your own wares, I don't care. Live a life without prying eyes. Does that not sound the least bit appealing?" He was speaking to her as if in a plea and she was left dangerously vulnerable to his proximity. His gloved hands on her face were warm and gentle, and he smelled of the sun and the forest and the promise of the future she now imagined. How wonderful would that be? she wondered. She swallowed and licked her lips, unable to formulate a decisive reaction. She'd never been so close to a man. She'd never been able to see such detail in another person's eyes. "I keep very few staff in my castle. Primary residents are myself, my brother, my mother, and Roldan," he continued, gradually releasing her face and pulling away from her. She might have followed after him had she not been shocked by the mention of Roldan's name. She'd nearly forgotten about him, about how her heart had raced as it was now and the panic that immediately followed. She opened her mouth to speak but there was suddenly too much on her mind. "There would be little to bother you, to stifle you as you are so clearly stifled here," he said, turning and gesturing distastefully at the estate behind them. "All I ask is for the same in return. I will treat you well, I swear it."

Aurelia's eyes darted. She felt very nervous and had no idea what to say, how much time she even had to say it. He offered her all that she strived for in secret dreams, yet the question remained on the end of her tongue: what about love? She did not love this man, and it was clear he had no intention of falling in love with her. Could her inner romantic really be sacrificed in the name of freedom? Would it be suicide to think she could have both in the end? She struggled openly with conflicting feelings, but in the end all she managed was an ambivalent, "But…"

"Would it not also please your parents?" Jareth interrupted, provoking Aurelia to raise a hand to her chest defensively. It seemed like he was bullying her now and she became wary of this new sense of impatience. "Imagine the rise in rank above them. You would never hear a condescending word from them again."

"I've never been vindictive," she finally managed to say, using the moment to find her footing. "Why are you trying so hard to persuade me?" Jareth paused and shifted his posture in her direction. His hands were loosely fisted at his sides and it seemed as if they were now arguing. He had become defensive and she imagined it was because that while he professed indifference he was in fact _asking_ her for something to which she did not readily agree. He was a King who was asking for something that he wanted, wanted badly enough to go out of his way to a completely different country and lie, and prattle, and barter, and suffer cheap food, and trudge through the mud of a rundown garden for merely the potential of attaining. She humbled herself then, realizing just how precarious her situation might be.

"I'm not," Jareth said, with slight petulance. "I'm simply...tired...of relying on the whim of others." His hands relaxed and he looked to the ground for a moment. He sighed, composing himself before looking up to meet her gaze once more. "I'm ready to take charge of my life. Are you?"

His question was sincere. He said he didn't care, wouldn't care about her, but the look in his eye made her feel like she mattered more than anything else in the world. He went out of his way to find her. He crafted this ruse to be alone with her, to ask her, not her parents, for something that was in actuality so much more than a marriage. It was a plea. It was a call for help. In a sea of dizzying faces he'd managed to spot her. The man who hated being seen, saw the one person who truly saw him back. Perhaps she was being dramatic again. Perhaps she only saw what novels had taught her to see. Regardless, the irony affected her deeply, so much so that she acted on whim.

"Jareth-" she said, smiling gently as she reached up and caressed his face. He was staring down at her, unable to gauge her. She sighed through her nose, a silent thought falling into place. He wondered what she would say and was thus surprised when instead she closed her eyes and kissed him.

She held their faces together, appreciating his scent and the feel of his hair. His eyes closed as well and she moved to deepen the kiss. Her tongue parted his lips and he reciprocated, her fingers curling firmly into his hairline. He was hesitant to touch her, as if it were a test. After another moment she released him, pulling away just slightly. Their lips were still touching when he asked, "What was that for?"

Their eyelashes batted against one another as Aurelia smiled. Her eyes flickered down briefly in embarrassment but soon rose back to meet his.

"At the very least...I can't be expected to marry someone to whom I feel no passion for. Might we at least compromise on that?" she asked. Jareth, the King of Goblins. There was much said about him, about his mannerisms and temperament, his predilections and chicanery, but none of those stories told the depth of sadness she saw in his eyes, nor the light that replaced it when his smile became true. He said he didn't want to be seen. Maybe being seen was exactly what he needed.

She wanted to be there for him. This man she hardly knew. She wanted to support him in his ambition, whatever that really meant, and to see him conquer the shadow that had bruised him so deeply. She'd never amounted to much, but she could be that for him. She could be what he needed.

She wanted to escape her mundane, meaningless existence. And he was right, she wanted something more than the disappointment of her parents. Perhaps it was time to act for herself. Perhaps she could make them all happy. After all, making other people happy was what she did best.

"Yes, a fair compromise indeed," Jareth said, smiling widely. His hand rose into the back of her hair and he kissed her again. She was soft and wilting, her touch and her tongue tender. He did not question her motivations, merely pleased with how effortless the moment felt. After a long minute they pulled away from each other and he stared down at her expectantly. "And?"

"I will marry you," she said, her smile humble. Her eyes raked down his face, her hand once again brushing along the side of his cheek. It was an intimate gesture, one full of love and promise that even he was not immune to. He felt soothed by it. She truly was a radiant creature. "And," she added, her eyes lowering in thought as her smile widened. "I will build the most splendid garden."

* * *

Sarah stood with her hands on her hips as she inspected her wardrobe. It was convenient how it adapted to her momentary wants, but complex ensembles still required a discerning eye and she had yet to become the medieval fashionista the world expected her to be. It probably didn't help that Mariella was the one who usually put together her outfits.

She started to chew on one of her thumbs as she thought.

"What do you think?" she asked, peering over to Jareth, who was watching her from a nearby chair.

"About what?" he asked. They'd had a lazy start to the day. It was well past noon and she still had yet to dress herself. He didn't mind, as it gave him more opportunity to appreciate her in the buff. He'd been watching her for what felt like a while now, mindlessly gazing at the sheer slip she wore over her rather dark, blood-colored lingerie. T'was a good color for her, though he'd prefer she lose the slip.

"Should I wear something more formal or not?"

She was of course referring to their eminent excursion to the north. It'd been several days since she'd recieved Davion's letter and it seemed far too quickly that today was the day that would mark almost assured regret. He tried, with admittedly little effort, to dissuade her from the idea, but her seemingly genuine excitement was enough for him to bite the bullet. He didn't trust his brother, but he didn't believe he would ever actually hurt Sarah, especially because he knew what was really at stake. He was sure she'd come to regret her decision all on her own once they arrived. Davion's way of life...was undoubtedly not like anything she'd seen before.

"That's up to you. I would however advise comfort over form."

"Hm, so they like to bend the rules of the dress code too?"

"...You could say that."

She reached in and pulled out a heavy blue velvet coat. It had fur along the collar and was embroidered with jewels around the base of the skirt.

"What about this?"

Thankfully, Mariella had taken care of all her packing preparations the night before. All that was left was for Sarah to dress herself. They were going _north_, so it stood to say she should dress warm…

"If you want to find yourself unconscious in the foyer, then yes," he said, lackadaisical. Sarah peered back at him with a smirk.

"What exactly does that mean?" Jareth leaned forward, shifted his coat tails, and crossed his legs.

"Fyrn is extremely humid and a great deal warmer than here. You would surely surrender to heatstroke should you wear something like that," he explained, with a casual gesture. "Not that you wouldn't look positively lovely while doing so." Sarah laughed and set the coat back in the closet. She didn't notice, but he was still watching her, observing every detail with keen interest: the angle of her downward cast lashes, the glint of her teeth when she smiled, the stray hair that she pushed back from her face. He'd never enjoyed looking at a person as he did her. Though, unfortunately, he couldn't with all honesty say it was merely admiration that motivated him.

He was nervous, as he had been for the last several days. True, Sarah had shown no more sign of subconscious spellcasting, but the threat remained all the same. Liana's magic was more than he could contend with, as he'd realized from the perverse display he'd had to deal with the other night, and he feared what might befall him, Sarah, or anyone else, should something like that happen again. It was with this trepidation that he'd considered forcing his hand on banning Sarah's frozen holiday but...he supposed he'd been given enough peace of mind to rescind himself of those urges.

The night it had happened, Sarah had fallen asleep in his arms and no sooner did he worm his way out of hers. Nervous tremors were once again rousing themselves as he dressed and then made his way back to his room. It was dark, foriegn and cold, now that he'd been sharing Sarah's bed so often. He ran his hands through his hair and composed himself, turning towards a door that only appeared when he needed it-

"You wanted to see me?"

He turned at the sound of Liana's voice. She was sitting in his chair, staring at him with her head cocked to one side.

"You're aware," Jareth said, concealing his surprise at her sudden interruption and stared at her as if she should have understood there was a different question in those words. When she didn't respond he huffed and moved around her. "Have you come to laugh at me?" he asked, rounding the couch to sit on the far end. Liana took particular notice of the distance he kept from her but ignored it for now.

"No. I came to you because I sensed you were coming to me. Figured I'd save you some time." She'd turned to face him, her expression vacant and revealing nothing. The fire, once faint, steadily grew to reveal more of her. Her gown was crystalline, jagged and rainbowed, refracting the light of the fire in glowing undulation.

"And you undoubtedly know why?" he asked. Again Liana tilted her head. He seemed angry with her, though even he knew it was preemptive. He dialed it back for his own sake. He'd nurse his pride later.

"Yes. I felt everything." She spoke without inflection, but her tongue couldn't help but trace her lower lip as she spoke. It was all Jareth could do not to sneer.

"Are you going back on our deal so soon? Perhaps honor is reserved for those of true sentience." Now that earned a reaction, however subtle. She shifted her posture and crossed her legs, sitting up straighter as she placed her hands on the arms of the chair.

"It is not, I assure you. I had nothing to do with tonight's little...mishap." Now that she did annunciate. Jareth bit his cheek but remained stern. He was inclined to believe her, though he knew he really had no reason to. "Although, I do recall you enjoying it, no? Just a tad?" She teased him, her mouth curling in the faintest smirk. Jareth fought off a scowl. "Ah, but you are concerned nonetheless. Go on, ask your questions." He was suspicious of how agreeable she was being, like she had been planning for this moment. He'd deal with that later.

"The fact that she was able to tap into your power with a mere thought, explain it."

An interesting difference between humans and fae was the manner in which they controlled magic. For fae it was a seventh sense. A skill refined in mental fortitude and will. Humans however possessed no such sense. The way they had learned to control magic was limited to facilitators like rituals, potions and physical spellcasting. He had been curious as to how Liana's presence in Sarah would manifest itself given these facts. She seemed to channel power similarly to a fae, despite being human. Only, to use magic subconsciously was near unheard of, even in children.

"A mere thought? Jareth don't be so obtuse," Liana said, smiling and glancing away shrewdly. "It was not thought that invoked her power but emotion, and there was nothing mere about it. Surely you've surmised this already?" She looked to him and he was glaring. She couldn't help but laugh. "My, she must have really knocked you off your game. Perhaps we should continue this conversation once you've found your bearings. I'd hate to take advantage of you."

"Do not mock me," he snapped. Yes, he'd realized long ago that Sarah's emotional state was directly tied to Liana's power, past meltdowns triggering mass tremors and societal destruction having been a fairly clear indicator. However, "This was something different and you know it. She had an intention. She conjured a physical object and imbued it with an enchantment. That is something that at the very least would take a modicum of concentration and direct transference, and yet she managed to do so completely unaware of herself." He was growing impatient with Liana's candid demeanor and became even more so when her response was all but a shrug.

"What can I say? I am Liana, the Great and Powerful."

Jareth only stared.

"How then, was I able to break free at all?" he asked. Liana's smile curled deliciously.

"Why because she orgasmed, you silly thing," she said, giggling and waving him off with a hand. Jareth was a bit taken back. Not expecting that as an answer.

"Excuse me?" Liana's eyes rolled at how much of a spoil-sport he was being.

"Her orgasm. In that moment the requirements of her emotional state had been satiated, her _concentration_ as you would phrase it, whilst subconscious, faltered all the same. You chose that very moment to exert your own force into a figurative wall that was now cracked," She turned and leaned back a little, openly making herself comfortable. "And what perfect timing it was. Had you waited for the rush to subside she may have regained focus and you, sad little king, would have been left all out of sorts." She flicked imaginary dust from the chair and looked away. Her playful disregard had Jareth fuming on the edge of his seat, for he had already acknowledged the reality of what might have happened were he unable to break free. He didn't need her rubbing it in his face.

"As suspected, I would have been trapped indefinitely. Go ahead and laugh to your heart's content; but am I to take from this that an awakening will render her completely unmanageable?" He looked dubious but Liana knew better. Her eyes narrowed on him and her smile turned wry.

"What? Did you think that because she is a human vessel that her capabilities would be limited? That you would, by some extension, be allowed as a regent over her -and thus me?" she asked, to which he said nothing. She smiled wider. "Well you would be right. As a human, especially one born of the other world, she can never wield me to my full potential. You made a good choice of her in that, at least. She can however, still wield me." Perhaps Jareth thought binding her to a human would temper her wrath, perhaps it was an honest oversight. Either way, he was surely kicking himself now, stupidly realizing he'd created, then married, a timebomb. "If I were callow I might say that's what you get when you go messing with forces you do not fully understand." And oh, he did not even understand the half of it. If Thaelon had done anything well, it was in keeping his sons ignorant and misdirected. Jareth knew she was more powerful than any fae, knew that she channeled a _different_ kind of magic, what he was unsure of was if there was any limit to that power, or the truth to the nuances that directed it.

Jareth scowled. She was taunting him and he had zero leverage to retort with. She was right. He'd made a grave oversight. He thought managing Sarah's manic episodes would be the worst of it. If he could do that then he could keep her dormant. After cutting off Liana's influence, Sarah's condition had been so well stabilized that precautions against her awakening had been all but forgotten. It was stupid to get caught up in the house they were finally starting to build. There were actions to take, however this was entirely uncharted territory and he had not planned nearly enough contingencies.

"And I would say, that's what I get for improvising. As you might recall, I've made more than one dramatic change in plans." Yes. None of this would be an issue if he had killed her all those years ago, and neither would it be an issue had he manipulated her into loving him. But, the self-sabotaging fool that he was, simply had to have it all.

"Indeed."

There was silence for a moment, Liana waiting and Jareth begrudging the continuation of the conversation.

"Why...why have her powers escalated now? If, as you say, you have ceased your instigations." He wondered still why she was being so easily forthcoming about all this. She had no obligation to speak with him and he figured it surely couldn't be in her best interest.

"You already know the answer to that question as well," she said, and sighed when he only looked deadpanned. "I told you quite some time ago that the longer she is in this realm the further she will acclimate, which is to say that the connection between the magic within her and the magic surrounding her will only strengthen. It is inevitable Jareth. She will awaken eventually, with or without my help." She watched as his glare turned to a glower and frowned. If circumstances were only slightly different she wouldn't object to this particular issue… "Would you like some advice?" she asked, to which his brow rose with skepticism.

"Why would you help me?" he asked. "Is it not your desire for her to awaken?" Liana pursed her lips. It wasn't her place to give it away just yet.

"I do want her to awaken. However...currently I believe it would be ill-timed," she said, to which Jareth's brow drew.

"Ill-timed?"

Waving him off, she turned her head away and tapped her fingers along her knee.

"If these outbursts are triggered by strong emotion, you may then simply keep her from feeling things too strongly, correct?" she asked, peering back at him. "This would also mean keeping her desires sated well before she has the chance to truly desire them in the first place. Do you think you can do that Jareth?"

"Keep my hot-blooded wife from becoming impassioned?" Jareth asked, incredulously. Was she serious right now?

"Things will naturally continue to escalate, but do you really have any other choice?" she countered. Jareth's hands fisted on his thighs and he glanced down in contemplation.

"Will she be able to handle it?" he asked. Liana tilted her head. "If...when she does awaken, will her body be strong enough to sustain it?" He looked back up to her and surprisingly all the frustration had left his eyes. He was worried. Liana frowned slightly.

"Jareth, was it not you who -with such certainty, mind you- assured me an awakening would_ tear her to shreds_?" He was quiet at that, recalling his proclamations in the woods when she'd attacked him. That seemed...foolish now. "I do wonder, whatever could be causing that iron-clad resolve of yours to be faltering now?" She mocked him, which had him regretting even asking the question. "It's refreshing to see you actually holding up your end of a bargain for once," she continued, glancing away dismissively. "I am also pleased, and disappointed, for that is the first time you've ever bothered to actually ask me that." She shifted again, smoothing out her skirt. "I believe she will, yes. But...I cannot say for sure." She watched with pity as Jareth's eyes widened subtly. He'd always known in the theory of it all, but it was only recently that he'd thought of these things as potential reality. He'd always assumed Sarah would concede before ever getting to this point. The idea of her succumbing to the forces of awakening were never once regarded as a realistic, let alone plausible, outcome. Once again, his arrogance had gotten the better of him. So there was a real chance she could die in the awakening, regardless of all this? What in the world had he done? "I suppose then...it would be in both your best interest for her to relinquish such power to you."

"What did you just say?" After all these months of fighting him, or tormenting Sarah and crippling their relationship at every turn, after the atrocity that was their wedding night, after reveling in his decision to abandon such an ambition, she was saying this now? He didn't believe her. She was mocking him again.

"Given the charm you insist she wear, my efforts are limited. I cannot reach the seed she holds. However...I can still withdraw the ambient magic which surrounds her. That should help quell any more serious episodes for the time being." She looked to the floor as she stood. Apparently the conversation was at its end. Jareth, alarmed and suspicious, stood with her.

"You would do that?" he asked. She looked at him with hard eyes.

"It is not a permanent solution by any means, but yes. I told you, for her to awaken now would be precarious and my prerogative, more than anything, is to protect my master. Keep in mind, the loss of ambient magic may also affect any metaphysical wards you've placed on her, as well as incoming magical attacks. Whether they persist through the void, I really cannot say. And if, by some chance, she should physically touch any part of me the connection may be reestablished if she should will it. Do you consent?" She was speaking very sternly but Jareth was only shaking his head. She'd been holding on to this as a last resort. Until now she'd had no motivation to _withdraw_ influence from Sarah, and was a little irritated she'd been backed into revealing such an ability to Jareth.

While Jareth's charm obstructed Liana directly, it was not designed to filter the atmospheric magic around her. Liana had been happy to keep this distinction to herself, but that was now no longer in her best interest, or Sarah's for that matter. Things were always moving just a little too quickly when it came to these two. Liana had enough independence left to narrow the pipe as it were. In this instance a trickle was better than a stream.

"Why is it precarious? What aren't you telling me?"

"Do you understand the stipulations or not?" She wasn't budging on this one. She'd already said more than she'd have liked to. Regardless, this was all he needed to know for now. Jareth sighed through his nose, knowing that no amount of badgering would yield him reward. Liana was keeping a secret. This was nothing new, especially where Sarah was concerned. She had however agreed to help buy him some time, which was something he couldn't afford to pass up on. He wondered what in the hell she was playing at. This wasn't the first time she'd contradicted herself.

"Yes. My protection wards may lose efficacy. If such is the case, I shall simply reinforce them." He was glad he'd decided to put his anti-Liana charm in a physical conduit. As such it didn't need ambient magic to operate, not that that was something he was thinking about at the time. Perhaps he should be proactive and convert other wards as well...

Liana's eyes narrowed dangerously as she turned her back on him, her form fading to shadow and reflected light from the fire.

"You may need to start protecting her the old fashioned way, Goblin King. Don't forget that."

* * *

And so here they were. Jareth had crawled back into bed and Sarah was none the wiser. They'd woken and played and went about their days five times over. Nothing had changed. Nothing had happened. As far as he knew, Liana had done as she'd promised. He'd been suspicious and tried throwing simple spells at her to see what would happen. Curiously, some worked to full effect while others were completely nulled. He hoped that would not lead to further problems, but hope was all he could really do on the matter. Thankfully his protection wards seemed to remain fully-functional. He hypothesized that this might be because they were tethering to the magic within Sarah rather than surrounding her. Enchanting physical objects, to the degree required to adequately protect her, would take time, more than he currently had; but, it'd been nearly a week and his existing wards showed no signs of instability, so he was confident enough not to rush the matter. In the meantime, he stared. He watched her like a hawk for any sign of imbalance or eruption. She'd noticed more than once, though she'd interpreted it as flattery.

She was wearing a blood-red bra and he'd just told her she'd look beautiful suffering a heatstroke…

"Right. I forgot about that. Roldan said the castle was carved out of the side of a mountain face, and that mountain also happens to be part of a dormant volcano," she said, thumbing through from hanger to hanger. She'd been envisioning winter garb and so surmised she'd need to close and reopen the armoire to get something less tundric.

"Yes," Jareth said, leaning forward a bit to rest his chin on his knuckles. Sarah closed the doors and opened them once more.

"Annnddd beneath the castle is a natural hot spring...which according to Mariella is one of the great wonders of this world," she said, half-sarcastically. Mariella really did think it was one of the great wonders of the world. Sarah however, doubted her bias.

"It's alright," she heard Jareth say, which made her smirk. He really was grumpy about all of this wasn't he? And yet still he was just going along with it for her sake. It was cute.

"Is there anything fun to do besides that?" she asked, pulling out a lighter dress.

"There are a few outdoor sites worth seeing I suppose, but given the time of year it is mostly a white wasteland. However, Davion does manage to keep his horde well occupied and in good spirits, so I'm sure you'll find some means of entertaining yourself."

"We," she corrected, peering over to him. "I'm sure we will find some means of entertaining ourselves, right?" Jareth smiled. He couldn't help it.

"Yes, love. Forgive me."

Their eyes were locked in a playful way, their lips seemingly curled in the same cheeky grin. Oh how quaint. What Mariella would give to be a fly on the wall.

"What about this one then?" she asked, holding up a new gown. This one was silk, a light champagne color with coral and deep red accents. It had thin lace straps and a tiered flowy skirt. To her it seemed both station and weather appropriate.

"I think you'd be just as well in what you're currently wearing. You certainly wouldn't sweat as much. However, I wouldn't consider that a bad thing either."

"Tsk. Your vulgarity has lost its edge. That one didn't even phase me," she said, turning her nose up at him and holding out the dress to inspect it closer. Yes. This seemed like the one. Now all she had to do was put it on and they could-

Jareth's hand reaching out and taking the hanger from hers surprised her, though she let go of it effortlessly. He hung it on the back of the door and turned her towards him. She stared up at him challengingly, expecting a snarky comeback. Instead, he grabbed the sides of her face and kissed her.

She held her arms up, not quite sure why his kiss was so ardent. Was it something she said? Was the build-up of her parading around in her lingerie getting to him? She laughed into his kiss at the thought but he ignored it. Her hands clutched his biceps when he suddenly reached down and hoisted her by the ass, wrapping her legs around his hips.

"Whoa there," she said, pulling away slightly. Her hands moved to brush the hair from his face. She was a little higher than him now and stared down into those crisp baby-blues.

"Don't forget: if things go the way I expect them to go, I was the one who said we should stay here." He kissed the corner of her jaw and her neck arched accordingly. His hands groped and moved up her backside, and she squeezed his hips tighter in response. If he was trying to prolong the inevitable, she'd let him win this one.

She breathed heavily as a hand reached up and pulled down the strap on her slip and bra, soon replaced by provocative nips, and she reached up into his hair. He stepped forward and dropped her on the bed, pushing himself into her as he did so. She gasped breathily as she ground into his erection.

His mouth sucked on her bosom while he undid his pants, eager to be inside her, and she obliged him by spreading her legs wider. He pulled her underwear to the side and slid into her deeply, effortlessly, pushing her up the bed as he rooted a foot to the floor and pulled out to thrust back in again.

Sarah moaned, her voice high. He'd come onto her so suddenly, which only seemed to make it more erotic. He was thrusting into her long and deep, his arm braced beneath her back, his weight holding her down. She stared up at the canopy covering her bed and went virtually limp. He felt so good. Too good. She was being selfish by simply enjoying it. The sound of his own moans made her hotter, and so she reached up and dug her nails into his back.

"Fuck, Jareth-" She gasped and arched her back, her legs circled around him and her heels pressed into his lower back. His free hand found her face and hooked two fingers around her teeth to jerk her towards him. His mouth took hers hard, messily, and they moaned into one another. He moved to press his knee into the bed as she inched further up it, and she felt him delve deeper at the new angle. She was approaching climax fast. She didn't know how much longer she could hold out-

"Don't you dare," Jareth warned, hooking his hands under her shoulders and hoisting her up the bed. "Davion isn't expecting us until evening. We have all day." Sarah smiled and threw her head back. He really was insufferable.

* * *

_*Knock Knock_*

Mariella stood outside Sarah's door. She'd been by several times now, but knew she wasn't quite_ ready_. She was hoping they'd be well put together by now. It was almost time to go and she was quite looking forward to seeing Lord Davion again.

When she heard no response she withdrew her crystal once more. It wasn't glowing, which meant all should be well…

She was surprised when the door suddenly opened. Sarah was standing before her and immediately her eyes darted to the crystal amulet in her hands.

"Mariella? What is that?" Sarah asked, opening the door wider to usher her in. Mariella accepted the invitation, though she fiddled her amulet with embarrassment. Oh my, that had been tactless.

"Oh, it's nothing much really. Just a trinket handy to lady's maids," she said, shrugging and holding it out for Sarah to see.

"What does it do?" she asked, closing the door behind her. Mariella sensed His Majesty still in the room. His presence made her a bit nervous, so she hesitated before responding. Normally the crystal glowed when they were together. Strange it had been silent just now...

"Well, to put it plainly it serves as a do-not-disturb sign," she said, to which Sarah scowled. Mariella laughed. "Sarah, have you wondered why I never seem to bother you when you are otherwise...indisposed?" she asked, smiling suggestively. Sarah blinked, not immediately catching on. Huh, that was true wasn't it? And no, she'd never thought of that. She and Jareth spent a lot of time together and, as she thought back, Mariella indeed never once interrupted them. She only ever showed up when Sarah called for her or when she was conveniently alone…

"Um…" she stammered. Mariella filled the gap.

"See this?" she said, holding up the clear crystal for Sarah to inspect. "If you are free to receive me, it stays clear. If you are busy with another guest, or simply do not wish for my company, it glows white. If you are not in the room at all it turns opaque," she explained, which drew a great deal of interest from Sarah.

"Oh wow, that's handy. I guess that would be useful to a lady's maid. But how...does it know if I'm not in the mood to see anybody?" she asked. Mariella shrugged.

"It's part of the enchantment. Magic does as we devise it to do."

"Huh…" Sarah said, pursing her lips as she handed it back to her. What a nifty little thing, she thought. Magic really was capable of just about anything, wasn't it?

"So, are you about ready to leave? Do you need further help packing?" Mariella asked. Sarah peered back as she moved into the room and shook her head.

"No. I already had the bags you packed yesterday sent down. We're only staying for a couple of days. I can't imagine I'll need much." Mariella laughed.

"Sarah, you're a Queen. You'll need the world." Sarah huffed and reached for a dull red, long-sleeved cloak, and pulled it on. There were several buttons down the front, which effectively covered her otherwise bare chest and made her just a bit more conservative for her first public appearance as Queen. "Is that what you're wearing?" Mariella asked. Sarah looked down over herself.

"Yeah...Jareth says it's going to be hot, but the cloak is silk and I figure I can always take it off if I get too steamy," she explained, having felt the need to appear slightly more regal than usual. Mariella grinned. "Why, do you think it looks bad?"

"My, no. Not at all. I think it's perfect. I'm simply proud you were able to put together such an outfit yourself," she said, which garnered a sated little smile from Sarah.

"She does look quite elegant, doesn't she?"

Mariella turned and inadvertently stared straight at Jareth. She averted her eyes immediately, knowing she was still out of favor with him after the whole sending-secret-correspondence-to-Davion ordeal… She was hoping they might make amends one day. She had after all, stopped reporting to him on Sarah quite some time ago.

"Yes, Your Majesty. Quite right." She smiled and stepped aside, holding her hands out in front of her as she ought to. While His Majesty had been acknowledging her a bit more lately, and with good cheer at that, he was still clearly disinterested in starting any real conversation with her. Sarah huffed through her nose while she smiled at him. It still startled Mariella, how well they were now getting on and how plainly happy Sarah had become.

"Well, shall we be off then?" Sarah asked, quirking a brow and turning towards Mariella. She took Mariella's arm, an Aboveground sign of friendship that Mariella was not yet familiar with, and a show that she need not be the third wheel between her and Jareth. Mariella laughed nervously with Jareth at their back, though he didn't seem to mind. "Are you excited? I know you've been wanting to see Davion," Sarah asked, as they walked down the hall. Mariella smiled and patted her arm.

"Oh yes. I do find myself missing his good humor from time to time." Sarah chuckled, thinking to herself that that wasn't really what she was talking about; but, for as sexually active as Sarah knew Marie was, she hardly ever spoke provocatively. She was a very genuine soul, which often had Sarah wondering, quite lewdly at that, what she could possibly be like in the bedroom that would make her Davion's_ favorite_ courtesan.

They were nearing the hall which housed the_ alleyway_, a space that connected Jareth's castle to Davion's. It made for easy access, considering just how far away Fort Fyrn was. Sarah had initially asked to travel traditionally, to which Jareth was quick to inform her it would be over a three month journey by carriage -even with lipsgates. This shocked Sarah, as she'd learned from Roldan's lessons that lipsgates- "_are portals that connect long distances, as any individual fae can only travel so far by their own magic alone. Lipsgates are permanent, public travel spaces that can link thousands upon thousands of miles_." Sarah had made the comparison to a wormhole, though that was a term Roldan had of course never heard of. He had gone on to mention that she would get to experience one soon enough, as several were almost always required when traveling outside the city limits. The continent was simply that vast.

But for now, they were taking the backdoor. Which, as anti-climatic as it was, made more sense. Jareth had promised, however, to take her outside to view the full effect of Fort Fyrn, which was all she really wanted out of the excursion anyway.

"Oh look, Master Roldan is here to meet us. So like him to be early," Marie said, bouncing up on her toes as she waved to him. He was leaning against a wall, watching with disregard as the goblins situated everyone's luggage.

"Oh. Roldan, are you coming too?" Sarah asked. Roldan quirked a brow and straightened. He didn't look very happy. Not that he ever did.

"So it would seem," he said, waving a flippant hand through the air. Sarah released Mariella's arm, who was quick to scuttle and help the goblins. Jareth rejoined her at her side.

"Does that displease you?" Jareth asked, having caught her furrowed brow. She looked up to him unexpectedly.

"What? No. I'm just surprised. Who's going to watch the castle?" she asked and Jareth laughed. Sarah glared. He didn't even try to stop himself.

"Watch the castle? Afraid it's going to run away?" he asked. Roldan rolled his eyes, giving in to recross his arms.

"Don't be an ass. You know what I mean. What if something important happens while we're gone? Who's going to handle it?" Somewhere, behind all the layers of deep-rooted aggravation, Roldan was actually touched that she thought highly enough of him to run the kingdom in Jareth's stead. He did not respond with this however. Instead he watched as Jareth continued to tease her.

"Probably the council. That is partially what they are for. Delegation is key to any successful leadership," he said. Sarah snarled a bit. She didn't like being made a fool of for caring.

"I guess I didn't think you trusted the goblins that much," she said. Jareth shrugged.

"Was it not you who said I ought to put more stock in their abilities? Besides, if I'm indeed needed all someone has to do is pass through this door and shout. Did you forget already?"

"While that's all well and good, I still don't see why you're _making_ _me_ go," Roldan interrupted. Both Sarah and Jareth looked over to him. There was a certain emphasis on the word making, and a certain glare directed at Jareth that she recognized all too well.

"You're making him go?" Sarah asked, about to intercede on Roldan's behalf and say he didn't have to go anywhere he didn't want to. They'd been getting along better since their talk. She didn't want to see him regress again. Jareth shrugged, not caring the least bit for her sentimentality.

"If I have to go it only makes sense that he should too. After all, we are both equally passionate in our opposition," Jareth explained, which was the pettiest thing she'd ever heard. She shook her head and rose her hands in disbelief. "Oh come now," Jareth said, not wanting to see her flustered for Roldan's sake. "He was just there not too long ago-"

"Exactly. I was just there."

"-And as such your business is done. This shall be a pleasure trip, a change of pace as it were." He was bullshitting and wasn't even trying to make it convincing. Roldan scowled, pouting as he imagined another 48 hours in Davion's den of sin. It was bad enough he had to be stuck there for a week during the quarterly review, but this...without a royal agenda what the hell was he expected to do? "I'm sure you'll find some way of pleasuring yourself Roldan. That is, after all, one of my brother's specialties." Sarah's eyes slowly roamed from Jareth to Roldan, having sensed a new and definite tension spark from Jareth's provocation. She was missing something. Jareth had been speaking in mysterious innuendos all day, though she'd written them off as more of the usual jive. Was there something dastardly going on at Davion's castle that Jareth was setting her up to experience for herself? She started to feel a little bit nervous when Mariella returned to break through the tension.

"Alright, I believe we're all set. Shall we pass on through?!"

* * *

The alleyway wasn't an alleyway. There was a door that opened to a fully enclosed corridor, with no windows or outside light of any kind. It was narrow, so Sarah and Mariella entered first, followed by Jareth and Roldan and finally the goblins. Sarah had asked if her guard would be accompanying her, but Jareth said that was unnecessary. It seemed he was all the protection she needed. At the end of the corridor was a door identical to the one they'd entered through. They stopped and Mariella stepped forward to open it for her.

"Are you ready?" She whispered, with a hushed giggle. "We're going to have so much fun!"

She opened the door and it creaked loudly, the acoustics of the next room giving the sound a fierce resonance. Sarah entered first, followed by Mariella and the rest. She took a few steps and waited for Jareth to join her at her side. The goblins went straight to work, hauling their luggage off to the side where they would not be seen.

"Um...so this is it?" The letdown in Sarah's voice was almost comical and actually did earn a small smirk from Jareth. Mariella scuttled over to the goblins and she heard Roldan sigh heavily from behind them.

"I told you to temper your expectations. It's not quite the same effect as entering from the main gate." Jareth was peering around with her, as if the room was something new to him.

It was a large space, square, with textured stone tiles on the floor and wood planks lining the walls. The ceiling had to be a good thirty feet high and several terrifyingly large chandeliers hung heavily from slick iron chains. There were many light fixtures decorating the walls, but not even all that could keep the room properly lit. It was dark and gloomy, and the air...it kept her nose cold but her hands clammy.

"That is the gate, if you were wondering," Jareth said, pointing over to what Sarah had thought was a wall. It wasn't.

"Huh? That's the door? Why is it so massive?" It was nearly as large as the wall itself, made from heavy beams of wood and metal. Jareth shrugged.

"Couldn't say. This place was built well before my time."

"Well before anyone's time," Roldan said, tying his hair up into a ponytail as Sarah turned to look over at him. He was wearing one of his signature velvet coats and she wondered how long that would last if the temperature became anything like Jareth described. "Do you think he'll actually greet us?" he continued, throwing Jareth an eye. Sarah looked around the room once more. It didn't feel like they'd traveled thousands of miles. The walls, and all their adornments, were too dark to see clearly and there were no windows. Maybe there was a door just ahead of them? She couldn't tell.

"Given that Sarah is here I'm sure he'll make quite a show of himself," Jareth said, glancing down to the goblins and gesturing curtly in an arbitrary direction, apparently signaling they get a move on.

"Please Jareth, you think me without taste?"

Sarah was startled by the sound of Davion, even more so by his immediate appearance by Jareth's side. She was the only one to have such a reaction. Davion smiled and stepped around Jareth, giving him a lingering impish eye.

"All things in their due time," he said and quickly turned his attention to Sarah. "Sarah, my dear, sweetest sister. I am humbled and so grateful you have accepted my invitation. You are a bright vision to this dark and dreary place," he said, bowing to her and taking her hand to give it a playful kiss. Sarah was trying not to scowl, still caught off guard by his ambush. "I will do everything to make sure you enjoy your stay here, thoroughly." He straightened and looked her in the eye. She looked away quickly, minding her manners. The connivery was obvious, but it was also something she'd expected. It'd been two seconds and he was already testing her. So this was to be a game, was it? Maybe Jareth was right. Maybe it was too soon to come here.

"Of course. I've taken a great interest in this place. Mariella speaks very highly of it." She kept her gaze peering through him and withdrew her hand from his tactfully. If Davion was trying to test her, she would do her best to prove herself his equal.

"She is too kind," he said, otherwise ignoring the very existence of his...ex-girlfriend? Was that the right term? He took a step back and gestured to the space around him. His hair was braided as it had been every other time she'd seen him, and it fell over his shoulder as his head dipped. "I hope you'll forgive the dull welcome; my brother tends to prefer discretion and I figured you could do without the grand spectacle of a formal announcement," he explained, gesturing flippantly around the room. "But might you permit me the honor of escorting you in? This vestibule is hardly hospitable." Sarah nodded and chose to step toward him and offer him her arm. It was fae custom that the woman assume dominance in a social exchange, and she thought maybe this might convey she was serious about the respect her stature afforded her. She did not make this decision lightly however, as she knew it would be safer to cling to Jareth. With that said, she did not so much as peer back to him for encouragement or permission. No, she held her head high and caught Davion's eye as he accepted her gesture. She was no longer on_ Jareth's_ arm and wanted to convey she knew exactly how to behave. They began to walk through the room, and Davion threw Jareth a very excited look discreetly over his shoulder.

They'd turned and were now heading towards the far left of the room. There was an archway and beyond it another foyer. This one housed a grand staircase, at the top of which stood a very ornate set of double doors, illuminated by large torches on either side. Jareth had yet to speak and in a sense this worried Sarah. She'd taken the lead which meant she was on her own. She hoped Davion couldn't sense her trepidation. Mariella and Roldan followed close behind and she could hear the muffled sound of their footsteps resounding in the deep space of the room.

"I think you'll find this place quite to your liking," Davion said, breaking the silence as they moved up the stairs. "It is...much friendlier than what you're used to, I imagine." Sarah glanced at him, which apparently to him was encouragement to continue. "I keep a number of fae servants, rather than goblins. I find the sophistication much more desirable."

"I don't find the company of goblins to be lacking," Sarah said, rather tersely. Davion smiled and conceded.

"Indeed. I suppose it is good then that you are the Queen of Goblins."

Davion was surprised by her residual annoyance with him. It wasn't something he was used to in women. Perhaps it was that which gave her amor, as he'd also expected her to be well pressed under his brother's thumb by now. T'was an interesting turn things had taken and they hadn't even sat down to dinner.

"I know our accordance said evening, but I had hoped you would have come earlier in the day. Thankfully you have not yet missed dinner. We've prepared a real treat for our honored guests tonight."

"I see. I've no doubt it will be most splendid." Sarah bit her tongue and rolled her eyes. She was starting to talk like Jareth and knew that to everyone but Davion it would be a tell of how nervous she was. Jareth was still behind her, quiet as a mouse. The thought of what he may be thinking behind her back had her worrying most of all.

Surprisingly, they did not enter the alluring set of doors at the top of the stairs. Instead they continued right, down a hall and then down many others.

"May I ask where you are taking us?"

Davion smiled, something she caught from her peripheral if for no other reason than how closely it resembled Jareth's.

"To your rooms, of course," he said. "You'll be needing time to settle in before dinner, I imagine...and to change." There was something left hanging on the end of his tongue as he'd said that, leaving Sarah to worry over whether her choice in attire was not entirely up to snuff. She reflexively peered down over herself but recovered quickly and brushed the comment away with a smile.

"How considerate."

She said nothing more after that and neither did he. Neither did anyone, which resulted in, to Sarah, a rather uncomfortable silence. The halls were just as dim as the vestibule and the walls, slick with condensation, glistened the light of the many torches they passed by. It was starting to get a little warmer, a slight strain growing at the hollow of her neck where her cloak hung heaviest.

Her eyes, unable to help themselves, traveled this way and that. She tried, several times, to look at something other than Davion, but his proximity made it difficult. His attire made it impossible.

He was not dressed in any way even remotely akin to any fae she had yet seen, and she wondered if he'd done so to purposely throw her off her game. He was wearing mesh. Sheer, silver, translucent mesh that left nothing to the imagination. His shirt was loose, the front and back halves tied together with a knot at each shoulder and two down his sides. There were no sleeves, and he wore wide metal cuffs around his biceps and forearms. His pants were taupe and cinched at the knee, and he was barefoot. He was passive-aggressively critiquing her outfit and he was mother-fucking barefoot. What? Every time her eyes darted over she would catch a new glimpse of his torso, the contour of his chest, the darkened disks of his nipples. He was shorter than Jareth and not as lean, though he did have some muscle. That probably wasn't something she should be noting right now. Instead she wondered if this was really what he wore on a daily basis, if this was what he intended to wear for a formal gathering of _honorable guests_. At the very least he was clothed. That much could be said.

Realizing she would need to be more on guard here than expected, she turned her attention away from Davion entirely and took in as much of the sights as she could before he sparked another conversation. For how dark Davion's castle was, there was surprisingly much more to look at than at Jareth's. There were impressive suits of armour at regular intervals, glass display cases filled with trinkets, and paintings that lined the walls one after another, breaking up the endless black stone that engulfed them. It was the paintings that caught her interest most of all, for they were not something she often saw in the capitol.

They were portraits. Not landscapes or battles or stills or creatures, but traditional portraits. There were certain parts of Jareth's castle that were decorated quite ornately, but even still the only place she'd even seen a portrait was in Roldan's secret storage room. She remembered Marie telling her once that Davion housed many portraits of late family members, and she then began to wonder who these visages were of, why they were displayed so prominently here, if those were questions that were in fact more important than she initially regarded.

It was then that she was pulled from her daze when Davion's pace slowed. They stopped and he turned towards her, obstructing her view just as her eyes landed on something potentially monumental-

"Well, here we are. The finest room in the house," he said. He was smiling down at her and she realized she was scowling. She twitched ever-so-subtly and relaxed her features, returning his grin with fervor.

"Excellent. I thank you kindly for your escort...Davion."

"Please, call me Brother," he said and somehow made it seem whole-heartedly lewd. Sarah gave a weak, forced huff of laughter and looked down and over to Jareth. Davion then released her arm and stepped back to allow Jareth to take his place. He did so, wordlessly, and only when their eyes met did Sarah realize her fumble. All that time he hadn't said a word. No one had said a single word. And that was because she'd forgotten to permit him -any of them- to speak. Fuck. Jareth had said things ran more casually here, like in the Goblin City, so she had assumed that had also meant suspension of this confusing tap dance of matriarchal conversational bullshit. And yet she'd been so on point with exactly when, and when not, to make eye-contact.

"Jareth," she said, with a nervous, flighty upturn to her voice, utterly ignoring Davion's suggestion. Jareth peered down and the corner of his mouth turned shrewdly. So he'd known? He was waiting for her to realize it? What an ass! She inhaled through her nose and recomposed herself. Luckily for her, they were the only ones, apparently, who thought anything of it. "I don't believe you've extended our gratitude. We are so very happy to be here, aren't we?" See, she could mess with him too. Jareth's eyes narrowed but his smile stretched.

"Yes. We are indeed," he said, less than sincerely, and turned to raise his brow at Davion. He smiled, some unknown dialogue passing between them. It looked as if they might say more, but at the last minute Davion changed his mind and instead turned his attention to Roldan and Mariella.

"Quite. Well then, shall I escort the lot of you next?" he asked, extending his hand to Mariella. She took it readily. "I have a little treat for you, dear," he said to her, in not quite a whisper. "Your very own room. No dormitory for you this round." Sarah saw a light brighten in Marie's eyes but she did not respond verbally. Instead she smiled from ear to ear and squeezed onto his arm. Sarah opened her mouth to speak, to awkwardly permit Marieand Roldan to partake in the conversation, but was distracted by Jareth abruptly opening the door to their room behind her. She twirled around, feeling the compulsion to follow him inside. "Dinner will be served in one hour. Shall I fetch you when-"

"I know the way."

Sarah peered back to Jareth as he interrupted his brother, her jaw tensing at how curt his tone was. Davion however seemed unphased and simply bowed his head in acknowledgement. Without another word he turned his cheerful attentions to Mariella and led her away, Roldan, still silent and perturbed, trailing steadily behind. Sarah, not realizing she was across the threshold, blinked as Jareth promptly shut the door in her face.

"Oh...Okay," she said, quietly to herself, and turned to look over the room. It was small. Well, smaller than what she'd become used to. Thick tapestries hung from the walls and delicate furniture cluttered just about every open space. Almost directly in front of her was the bed, always large and expertly fluffed, with four posts and heavy velvet curtains tied back with golden rope. To the far corner, on the right, was a fireplace with two chairs positioned closely in front. To the left of it was a door, which she assumed led to a washroom. And...that was really it. Honestly, not what she was expecting from the_ finest room in the house_.

"Is it everything you were hoping for?" Jareth asked. He was across from her, sitting on the edge of the bed as he unbuttoned his coat. He was staring at her, apparently her expression had been less than guarded. She took a step towards him.

"Hoping? Uh...I wasn't really hoping for anything. It is however not...as I imagined." She felt awkward, and reached for the button at her throat as well. It was definitely heating up and she was starting to get a little toasty. She took off her cloak and draped it over a nearby chair. Her hand lingered a moment, distracted by Jareth.

He'd taken off his coat and tossed it on the bed. Although he hadn't stopped there. He'd also removed his cravat and untied the first two knots down the front of his shirt. Next he took off his gloves and unbuttoned the cuffs of his sleeves and rolled them each to the elbow, where she then saw leather straps which he used to secure said sleeves higher to his shoulder. They were imprinted with gold studs which matched his belt -his royal sigil prominently displayed on the buckle. The look was completed by tying his hair back with a ribbon. He was looking very much male, and watching him had made her feel...some things.

"Are you alright?" She blinked and realized he was staring at her again, though for the first time ever was oblivious to the manner of tension curling her toes. This was bad. They'd already had sex like...three times that day. Why was she so aroused right now? She briefly wondered what manner of apocalypse would befall her home world should all men dress as tantalizing as he.

"What? Yeah. I'm fine," she said, turning away from him sharply and smoothing out her dress. She was a great deal cooler now, though the hair at her nape had already stuck to her neck and so she debated whether or not to tie it back as well…

"We could always just stay here, you know," she heard him say and glanced back to find he had turned towards her, one leg bent and resting on the bed. That damn buckle was like a beacon and his posture looked altogether...inviting. Goddamn it.

"Uh, I don't think so," she said. Moving over to sit in front of a vanity that was just so conveniently close by. She stared into the mirror and grabbed her hair, twisting it up into a bun before realizing she had nothing to tie it with.

"If you insist…" Jareth said, begrudgingly, and moved to stand behind her. She was surprised when he took her jumbled hair from her hands and began working it himself, and was even more surprised when the end result was something quite lovely. Had he...where did he get those pins from?

"Oh...Thanks," she said, awkwardly, and turned to look up at him. He looked bored. She frowned then, hoping he would find some degree of enjoyment over the weekend -for her if nothing else. "Sorry I didn't invite you all. I kind of forgot we were playing by house rules." Jareth cracked a smile and squeezed her shoulders before moving away. She turned in her chair to follow him.

"It's alright," he said, sitting back on the edge of the bed. "It was probably for the best anyway. You did well asserting your new position. While I doubt Davion took you seriously, he at least took note of it."

"Oh, well mission accomplished, I guess," she said, sarcastically. Jareth huffed, crossing his arms as he grinned.

"That was nothing compared to the dinner I'm sure he has planned. Are you sure you can handle it?"

"I don't think I have much of a choice," Sarah said, poutingly. Her eyes narrowed on him a bit as she spoke. He was picking on her, but his words were still valid. "It's still going to be just me and you this weekend, right?" she asked, to which he tilted his head. "After tonight at least? I mean, I know Davion is our host so we have to see him, but I was hoping it would mainly just be me and you...showing me around and everything." She felt a little embarrassed then, perhaps even naive, asking for his attention like that. She knew however he was not the type to mind, and so she fluttered her lashes accordingly. Jareth ran his tongue along the back of his teeth, fighting the urge to poke further fun at her. She was trying to handle him, and in a manner he found most desirable.

"If that is your wish…"

"It is," she replied, a little too readily. Her eyes were intent on his face, though his had already fallen over her.

The gown she'd picked out suited her well. It was fair colored and in the ambient light closely resembled that of her skin. It shone with a reflective glare, highlighting the contour of her bosom on the side adjacent the fire. Dark red accents lined down her bodice, little bows and frills and such each begging attention from his wolfish gaze. He thought about taking her there, making her worthless for dinner and sequestering them both to this drab little apartment. He didn't think she would mind. If the shameless look in her eye and parting of her lips were any indication.

Sarah bit her lip and gripped the table behind her as she contended. Jareth was wearing her favorite look, partially disheveled and tauntingly bare. Her eyes traveled down the cord of the medallion he often wore around his neck and became lost as it dipped under the hem of his shirt. Her finger tapped impatiently and then she stood swiftly to her feet.

"Well...I don't know about you, but I am starving," she said, unconvincingly, and tore her eyes away from him. The last thing she needed was to be smelling freshly-fucked in front of all those judging fae. No, not on her big debut. She needed to make a decent impression and was perfectly capable of holding off until after dinner.

"I could eat," she heard Jareth say with, (un)shockingly, the same vulgar incitement recently wielded by his brother. "Are you ready then?" He'd stood and stepped towards her, his arm reaching past her for the door.

"Yeah, I suppose. Am I dressed okay? Davion also said it wouldn't be ready for an hour-"

"You look delectable, Sarah," Jareth said, and she peered up to him sharply. He was giving her that 'cut the crap' look he aimed at her so often. "A word of advice, do not take anything my brother says to you to heart, no matter how trivial. You would look stunning in a burlap sack, and honestly my opinion is the only one that really matters. I am after all, The King," he added, locking eyes with her for emphasis. Yeah, he kind of had a point there. Her perspective was often skewed in that regard. To her Jareth was Jareth, but to everyone else he was the absolute authority in every way. Hm. "Secondly," he continued, leaning down towards her with a one-sided grin. "You are The Queen. Dinner will be ready when you say it is." He cocked a brow and opened the door, and she took his arm with both her hands. It was good to feel his bare skin against hers, to feel the pulse in his arm calm and steady beneath her nervous palms.

"Gotcha."

They entered the hall and she hesitated. Jareth, having closed the door behind them, was oblivious and accidently jerked her a little when he tried to walk them down the hall.

"Jareth, wait," she said and he turned back towards her. She had a worried look on her face.

"What?"

"This painting-" she started and looked towards the wall in front of them. Jareth eased up and followed her gaze. She didn't see his fist tighten at his side. "Is this...who I think it is?" Jareth's jaw tensed. He hadn't realized Davion had moved this particular painting. No doubt he put it here on purpose. Well, if this was to be the most irksome of the weekend's provocations then he'd consider it a blessing. Sadly, he highly doubted it.

"That depends on who you think it is."

Sarah pursed her lips and peered back at him. He was playing it off well enough but she knew he was annoyed. Maybe she shouldn't have said anything.

The portrait was of a man, a very affluent and robust looking man. He was middle-aged but had a certain distinction about him that made him feel far older. His hair was blond, though darker than Jareth's, and he had a well-trimmed beard. He was heavier-set but not obese, and he had striking blue eyes.

If it wasn't for the darkness of the hall she might not have noticed it right away. Everything was so deep and rich and shadowed, everything but those eyes, which caught the light of the torches beside it and contrasted greatly. She knew that gaze, that intensity. They were just like Jareth's.

"That's your father, isn't it?"

She looked away from the painting and up to Jareth, curious of his expression. It was vacant yet terse. She imagined this was something he did not really want her to see and the fact that it was placed directly outside their room meant that whoever placed it had done so with the hope of sparking some ire. Score one for Davion.

"It is. Is the resemblance that striking?" Jareth asked, cracking a disingenuous smirk as he continued to stare at it. Sarah frowned. She knew how much he resented his father and worried that simply seeing his likeness now would be enough to ruin the evening. Maybe it wasn't such an extreme measure then...having removed all the portraits the way he did.

"Why do you say it like that?" she asked, having sensed his tone. Jareth shrugged and looked away.

"They say I take after him, while Davion was graced with the more feminine features of our mother," he said, which Sarah recalled he had told her once before. Reading between the lines, she knew that _taking after him_ meant something more than physicality, and that was something he also took great resentment in, maybe even to the point of self-loathing. Now regretting having brought it up at all, she took one last look at dear-old-dad and turned them both away.

"Your eyes are both blue, which was the only thing I really noticed. I'd say the similarity ends there." She lied, blatantly, as anyone with eyes could plainly see Jareth was in fact the spitting image of his father. She spoke assuredly however, with her arm firmly locked in his and her head held high. He took some relief in that and appreciated the gesture all the same. He remembered a time, not too long ago, when she would never, ever, go out of her way to say a single word for his benefit. Now look at them, communicating in ways more intimate than words on matters he never before felt risk in sharing.

"Those other portraits we passed by, are those family members too?"

"Mostly, yes." He could feel she wanted to probe him further but was tactfully refraining. He peered down and saw a subtle pout marring her features. He didn't like seeing her worried. He'd rather her smile. "Would you like an introduction tomorrow?" he asked and felt a modicum of ease when her reaction was filled with intrigue.

"Really? Yes actually. I'd really like that." She was surprised he'd offered. Roldan had painted a very clear picture of just how much effort Jareth had put into forgetting his past. Maybe he was just being polite. Maybe she should tell him never mind…

They reached the door to the dining hall and paused before it. Jareth turned and used that final moment of seclusion to take her in. She looked nervous, a meek little thing with rosey round lips and a knitted brow. She glanced up at him, wondering why he was just standing there, her eyes large and unwittingly innocent. He smiled then, grateful for the privilege of being seen by her. He hoped she'd always look to him, always him, and only him.

"I love you," he said, and held back a laugh at the look of utter shock that fell over her just as the doors were flung open.

* * *

The doors were opened for them by two guards who then stood back and bowed deeply. Sarah, completely blindsided by Jareth's statement, could only turn said gape towards her audience and painstakingly forced the most practiced and complacent of expressions onto her face.

She had heard nothing as they stood in the hall. However, once the doors were opened, a flood of commotion and revelry descended upon them. The room was deep, a traditional feast hall featuring two long tables extending away from them with a series of rustic chandeliers hanging above. On the far end was a raised stage showcasing the head table and behind it several very ornately carved chairs. That was all she could really see, as she was caught off guard again by the overwhelming sounds of merrymaking.

There were a lot of people. A lot. Many more than she was expecting. She knew Davion employed many courtesans, but really? The room was packed full of fae. Surely they weren't_ all_ his lovers? And there were men. Not as many as there were women, but still a fair number. And they were all dressed similarly to Davion. The women contrasted in loose-fitting rags that draped, and clung, and just barely covered their more delicate areas. She saw many legs, and many shoulders, and many brazenly bare feet. And they were beautiful. They were all so ridiculously, inconceivably beautiful. Sarah's arm tightened around Jareth's nervously, for as soon as the doors opened did every trace of that deafening sound fall silent and all those terrible, lovely faces turned their gazes straight to her.

It was dead silent for an agonizing moment.

"Ah! You're here!" Sarah's heart skipped a beat and her wide eyes darted upward to the table at the back. There was Davion, sitting, and now standing, from one of the chairs. He was smiling widely and held his arms outstretched to match. He jumped up, walked over the table rather than around it, and marched gaily towards them. "My dear friends, won't you please welcome our most esteemed guests?" He spoke to his harem as he walked between them down the center aisle of the room, bowing and gesturing dramatically as he did so. Sarah gulped down her fear and steeled her expression. She wasn't sure what Jareth's was. She knew her strength would falter should she look at him. "My brother. _Your king_. And his new, most exquisite young wife." By now he had reached the two of them and rose the couple of steps that separated them. Sarah eyed him while he took her hand. He kissed it and bowed gallantly, crossed his free arm behind his back and kneeled before her. Her eyes followed when he stood, held her hand high with his, and turned to face the crowd. He really was making a show of himself. "I present to you, for the first time, your Queen. Sarah, of the Aboveground." Oh, was that her official title? She wasn't sure, but didn't ponder it long as all the courtly fae then dropped in succession and bowed. _"Long live the Queen," _they said in tandem. She didn't like that. It made her uncomfortable to say the least.

"Um...Jareth?" she whispered, stealing a peek up at him. His look was sympathetic but urged decorum. She looked away and bit the inside of her cheek. She wasn't sure what to do, if she was meant to say or do anything. She was forgetting everything.

"May I escort you to your seat?" Davion asked and she peered at him with a nod. He smiled and curled his grip around her hand. She wondered if this was right. It felt like Jareth should be taking the lead, or at least she should be walking with him, yet as Davion led her down the steps he was content to trail behind. The crowd remained bowed as they walked past and Davion brought her round to the throne at the center of the table. She approached it skeptically, having assumed this chair was meant for Jareth. He however took the seat to her right and Davion the one to her left. They waited for her cue and sat at the same time, and only then did the harem rise and resume their festivity.

Sarah crossed her hands in her lap and fiddled them anxiously. She was sitting straighter than she'd ever sat before and kept her eyes averted from any one person. Eyeing her trepidation, Jareth reached over and grasped one of her hands.

"Relax. You're doing fine. That was about as cursory as a royal introduction can get," he whispered and she looked over to him worriedly.

"I haven't done anything," she mumbled.

"Exactly. You should try to avoid embarrassing yourself, but you also have nothing to prove. Don't strain yourself by trying too hard." That helped her relax a little, surprisingly. Her grip on his hand eased and she took a deep breath. It was easier at the ball. No one had noticed her. She had a strict itinerary then, was primped and decorated and not herself. But here, she felt laid bare and at the mercy of her new official title, of the control she was meant to assume over everything. She looked away from Jareth and out over the crowd. At least she wasn't being forced to mingle.

"I just wasn't expecting there to be so many people, I guess."

"Yes, I have raised quite the commune, haven't I?" Davion chimed in completely out of turn. Sarah turned and shot him an eye, almost having forgotten he was sitting right next to her. He was turned towards her with an arm strewn along the table. He was grinning, but now eased back and reached for his chalice.

"Are they...all courtesans?" Sarah asked, wondering if it was appropriate to do so. Davion grinned into his cup.

"Of course. Except for the guards. Well, maybe not all the guards." The way his tongue traced the rim of his cup as he gazed across the room had a blush blooming on Sarah's cheeks. _Geez, what a slut_, she thought, and was admittedly impressed. How in the world could he keep up with _servicing_ this many people? As she glanced over the room she suspected they probably serviced each other.

"I see. I guess this is what you meant when you said there was a difference in culture here?" she asked, peering back to Jareth. Before he could respond, Davion laughed.

"Is that how he put it? My how tepid." He leaned back in his chair and took another sip. His eyes darted down and he smiled anew. "Oh, you're wearing your shoes."

Sarah blinked then glanced down. Yes. She was. That's when she remembered she was supposed to be barefoot at social gatherings. Suddenly everyone else's noticeable lack thereof made sense. Why hadn't Jareth said anything?

"Oh. Sorry. Should I take them off now?" she asked, haphazardly kicking off her slip-ons and pushing them under her chair discreetly.

"Jareth?" Davion asked, in amusement. Sarah's head turned from one side to the other. Jareth's face was in his cup and he looked, quite plainly, irritated.

"No," was all he said, leaving Sarah to surmise he was in fact against removing his boots and stooping to their level. Hm. She glanced back to Davion. He was still chuckling.

"So, where are Roldan and Mariella?" she asked.

"Who knows? Arriving soon, I imagine. I did give you an hour's reprieve." He 'tsked her with a finger and she furrowed her brow. "I had hoped to be considerate, though it seems you sought not to take advantage." Her brow continued to draw tighter until she realized the innuendo. On instinct she glared and recoiled slightly.

"You're a little too familiar, I think," she said, kicking herself for coming off like a prude. She knew that was something he may well use against her later. He watched as she kept her eyes averted, apparently annoyed with him all over again, and he took the moment to peer down and saw that she and Jareth were still holding hands. Aw. How quaint.

"Brother!" he called out, looking past Sarah to Jareth -who did his best to ignore him. "Did you hear that? She says I'm too familiar. And here I was despairing I'm not familiar enough."

"You should appreciate that we're here at all," Jareth said, shooting him a stern side-eye. He took another sip of his wine, leaving Sarah wondering if she might do better to try and calm her nerves with her own.

"Yes, yes. I am greatly humbled. It is very rare indeed that my brother should grace this wretched place." He spoke quietly to himself at the end, or maybe that was directed at Sarah. She wasn't sure. Not knowing what else to do, she took hold of her chalice and pondered it.

She was glad that they sat separated from the rest. She could gaze down at them in safety and gauge the atmosphere. The rabble paid her no mind, too caught up in their own drink and mild fornication. There were a lot of shared laps and wide laughing mouths. Hoots and hollers. Sometimes men tripped on skirts and women toppled from their bench. It was certainly not the kind of event she was anticipating. Perhaps she should have inquired more into Jareth's definition of casual.

She was glad when Roldan and Mariella finally arrived. Marie sat beside Davion, (Roldan beside Jareth) and waved at Sarah feverishly. Sarah smiled and waved back, stealing a bit of her friend's confidence. She heard Roldan sigh gruffly as he spoke to Jareth.

"Are we regretting this yet?" he asked, to which Sarah frowned. The two of them had been tossing that phrase around a lot today and it was worrying her more and more. She peered over to them and noted Roldan had, surprisingly, also removed his coat.

"No," Jareth said, taking a deep sip from his cup. "But the night is still young."

"My Lord Davion, I must thank you again for the quarters. They are simply divine!"

Sarah's attention was torn from Jareth and Roldan and over to Mariella, who was quickly fawning over her ex-or maybe ex no longer-playmate. She was glad free speech was permitted at the dining table. She didn't know if she could navigate the intricacies of a group conversation otherwise.

"Of course. You are now a queen's handmaiden. Only the best will do for you," he said, leaning towards her and pinching her chin. Mariella giggled and Sarah turned away. She wasn't quite sure what Mariella saw in him. All of his charm was blatantly superficial, nauseatingly so. Feeling left out, she gave in to the impulse and went to take a drink…

And then she almost gagged. She hadn't meant to, really, it was pure instinct. She'd gotten a whiff of the alcohol, a pungent chocolate and pomegranate, and almost heaved. She composed herself quickly, shocked by her reaction, and was now worried by the terrible churning in her stomach.

"Are you alright?"

She looked over, a hand held at the base of her throat as she swallowed down her nausea. Jareth was watching her intently. Apparently her reaction was as uncalled for as she'd thought.

"Yes. I...I don't know I just...I don't think I can drink this," she said, hoping it wouldn't offend Davion. Jareth's brow drew, though before he could probe further Davion chimed in.

"That's alright, my sweet. It is a bit robust and there's nothing wrong with a delicate palate. Could we get you something else?"

"Um, water. Just water please." She swallowed hard again and pushed the cup far away. Holy cow, that was bad. The memory was still sending shivers down her spine. She was never much of a wine person, but that was just unexpected.

A waiter brought her a glass of water immediately and she took a long sip.

"Feeling better?"

She glanced to Davion and nodded.

"Yes. Thank you."

Reluctantly she peered back to Jareth. He'd been quiet and she could feel his eyes on her. As expected he was staring, near glaring, though she shooed him off.

"What? You know I'm not big on alcohol," she said, waving at him dismissively. His eyes narrowed for just a moment longer before letting the matter go. He'd interrogate her later.

"Well, I hope you haven't lost your appetite. I believe we're about to be served and I, for one, am ravenous." Davion was leaning towards her again, putting himself and his face much too close to hers. She gave him a false smile in return, though he was either oblivious to it or simply didn't care. He leaned back and rose a hand in the air, gesturing towards an unknown somebody to commence dispensing their meal.

Dinner was surprisingly delectable. Though she didn't know why she was surprised. Everything in the Underground tasted better. They were eating some type of roast, smoked and charred on an open fire. She pretended it was pork. It tasted like it at least. It was of course fitted with all the trimmings, every side and salad and anything really that she could ask for. Not that she did. It was all simply brought out before her.

She was skeptical at first about how much she should indulge. Was it more Ladylike to daintly pick about her plate? Or did she have full license to gorge herself as she usually did? She seemed to be the only one having this conundrum, as everyone else ate heartily and with great appreciation. Well, everyone but Jareth. But then again, it was like pulling teeth trying to get him to eat a full meal even when they were alone. After a few minutes of debating she determined that she simply didn't give a fuck. She was starving and it all smelled delicious and Jareth had said not to try too hard.

She felt better after that, whatever remnants of that strange churning leaving her stomach.

It was quieter while they ate. Not by much mind you, but still mildly relaxing. She could now hear a piano being played in the background, along with a quartet of some otherworldly instruments. It was nice hearing Underground music. She'd been spoiled with it at her engagement ball and hadn't heard much of it since.

"Can I get you anything else, my sister?" Davion asked, and she looked over with a thumb in her mouth.

"Hm? No, thank you. This has all been very delicious," she said. Davion grinned, realizing that was the first authentic response she'd given him all evening. And they said food was the way to a_ man's_ heart.

"Hm, I'm glad." Sarah looked away, which gave Davion the opportunity to spy on Jareth, who himself had started to relax. He was looking out over the crowd, some dark thought on his mind no doubt, and Davion narrowed his eyes, chiding him for such folly. Maybe it was time to spice things up a bit. "I say. Before things come to a lull, shall I charm you with a bit of song?"

"What?" Sarah looked over to him, not having a clue what he meant. She saw Mariella's eyes light up beside him however and she practically jumped up in her seat.

"Oh my yes! Oh Lord Davion, will you really grace us with a song?" she asked. Sarah furrowed her brow. So he was going to sing? For real?

"Well, if my sister demands it," he said, turning his sly smile from Marie to her. Sarah pursed her lips, fighting off the urge to look back to Jareth. She could feel his eyes on her again. Maybe this was a test.

"By all means. I'd be delighted," she said. Hoping that was the right answer. Mariella had told her once that Davion would often sing for them, that his voice was just_ oh-so-lovely_ and_ a real spectacle to behold_. She'd also learned from Roldan's lessons that singing was sometimes used as a means of facilitating spellcasting, and also played a number of roles in fae society. This did not surprise her, as singing and music were just as important in Aboveground culture. She did wonder though, why she had such a keen sense of Jareth staring daggers at the back of her head.

"Oh goody!" Mariella squeed, clapping her hands together as Davion stood. Soon other eyes caught on and elbows nudged as word spread of their lover's actions. The crowd began to hush and Davion stepped off the stage and moved towards the piano. Sarah, now actually a little intrigued, sat higher in her seat. She looked over to Jareth, unguarded against the look of disdain he was now directing at Davion. She worried her brow. Was this like the time she'd invited him to dinner? Should she not have encouraged him?

"Jareth?"

"Alas my lovelies!" The sound of Davion's voice resonated through the room and he turned around in a grand gesture. "My darling new sister has demanded from me a song, and so this miserable old fool must oblige." His head was lowered in deferrence, though his eyes and his grin were fully conniving beneath his draping bangs. He peered around to the faces closest to him and they smiled in kind. That...did not seem good. "What say ye? Something for the pretty couple no?!" he asked and they cheered. He turned to the piano and began fiddling with a few chords. The harem began to gossip, squirming in their seats with excitement as they watched. Sarah too became eager, eager to find out what was really going on.

He sat down and began to play. It was rough at first but soon found a groove and became shockingly polished. It was quick and delicate and thrumming. Sarah blinked repeatedly, impressed by his skill and apparent improvisation. She watched from across the room as his fingers moved deftly, dancing about the keys as his head swayed to the sound. She found herself leaning forward when the rhythm then slowed and moved to a lower register. His hands held on a chord and it vibrated through the room. He looked to the pianist, shared some inaudible dialogue with him and the band, and moved to allow him to take over. Apparently, he was setting the tone. Then there was a contemplative pause. Davion peered around the room, as if unsure of the words he wanted to say. Then he held up a finger, smiled, and cued the band to play just as he started to sing,

"She'll come...she'll go..." A gentle hand trailed along with his voice, across the soft and yielding cheeks of his entourage. He smiled at one in particular and brushed her lip with his thumb. "She'll lay belief on you...skin sweet with musky oil. A lady from another grinning soul." It seemed, to Sarah, that he was taking lyrical cues from his paramours, as each line seemed reflective of one swooning, sweaty body or another. He walked down the aisle, his hand trailing along a slick shoulder or two, his smile curling for the ones offered to him. Sarah sat up even higher. His voice was deceptive. Smooth and haunting. She wasn't expecting that. Jareth eyed her precariously though silently. She seemed very interested in his brother. If she leaned out any further she'd sprawl across the table. He bit the inside of his cheek with annoyance.

"Cologne, she'll wear. Silver, and with shoulder bared, she'll drive for wanton share and beat you down with naught the slightest care." He took the hand of a woman and brought her to his side, held her close, and twirled her. He'd rounded the end of the table now and was making his way back up. Other women were rising to their feet, flocking around him as if desperate for attention. Sarah...didn't rightly understand. Davion smiled from ear to ear and obliged them, spinning them back to their seats as he made his way. It was like they worshipped him. "And when the clothes are strewn, don't be afra-aid of the room. Touch the fullness of her breast. Feel the love of her caress-" Oh my. That had taken a rather intimate turn. They were moving to the beat, women laying themselves upon him as he ran his hands up and down their bodies as they rocked in a swaying motion. Sarah's face started to flush. If this was about to turn into an orgy she really needed to leave. She peered over to Jareth discreetly. He was watching even more intently than she and he did not look happy. She turned back to Davion and realized then that he and Jareth were making eye contact. She grew worried then. She recognized the kind of grin he was giving him. "She will be your living end."

Abruptly Davion turned away from Jareth. There was a strumming of a guitar and he fell silent as it played. Laughing, he let loose from vying hands and suddenly jumped atop the table, and began to dance along it. She'd never seen such wanton careless behavior and for as much as it alarmed her, Sarah found the show to be very alluring. His movements were fluid and somewhat erotic, reflective of the tune that played around them. The acoustics of the room were superb and carried the sound to each and every ear, as if it played just for them. Sarah bit her lip. The way he smiled. At certain angles it reminded her of Jareth. It made her think...of the time he'd once sung to her.

He picked up a random chalice and downed it, then tossed it carelessly over his shoulder before continuing. He sang louder this time, with more depth and confidence.

"She'll come. She'll go…" A couple women joined him atop the table, nearly knocking him over with their fervor, and suddenly it seemed like everyone was a bit tipsy. Even Davion's cheeks were looking flushed. Huh? He wrapped his arms around them and turned his gaze back to Jareth. "She'll lay belief on you. But she won't stake her life on you. How can life become her point of view?" He started laughing as he sang and turned to give one of his companions a kiss.

Sarah was becoming a little unsettled now. She didn't know the true meaning of his words but she could guess, and it was clear he was singing them to Jareth. She continued to spy on him, and only saw him become more and more angry. She didn't know what to do, if she should say anything or let things play out.

Davion twirled out of his lover's embrace and almost lost his footing. He caught himself and smiled as he poked a playful finger at a bodice or two. Things were really starting to heat up down there, in more ways than one. A number of the harem had taken to the floor and were dancing and cheering him on. Laughter was riotous and eyes were heavy-lidded. Something was definitely not kosher there. Davion's singing was good, but it wasn't_ that _good.

"And when the clothes are strewn, ha, don't be afra-aid of the room. Touch the fullness of her breast. Feel the love of her caress! She will be your living end." His body was completely in tune with the music, his movement almost serous as he navigated scattered plates, and cups, and pawing hands. He started riffing then, reaching up into his hair as he bounded and turned. His voice grew louder and the trails ran longer. It only impressed her more and more. And he was smiling with such enjoyment. The beat began to slow and he twirled one more time, pausing to belt out the most impressive note yet. Sarah's eyes widened in awe, though was still able to catch the split-second glare he shot back at Jareth. She was sure of it now, she was missing something important. She caught Jareth's hand fist in his lap and she pursed her lips, but it was hard to pull her attention away from his brother. He laughed again and hopped down off the table, stumbling like a drunk as he did so. The band filled the void, the pianist executing a heart-pounding solo before fading back into a more general ambience. Men and women surrounded him and he lost himself to their attention, kissing and caressing and holding them posessively. She found herself blushing yet unblinking as she watched. He ended the song in a vocalise, long dramatic runs that echoed off the walls. They were all dancing together now, hands unseen amidst many layers or fabric. Sarah was greatly disturbed. This wasn't what she signed up for.

Soon his singing voice faded to a drunken chuckle and it was as if he'd forgotten what he had been doing completely. The entire hall had broken down into a primal state of carousal. All but those sitting at her table at least.

"Um...Jareth?" Finally, she turned to face him. She had worry on her face, which yielded nothing from the indiscernible wall that was Jareth's. "What um...what is happening down there?" she asked. Jareth sighed roughly through his nose and uncrossed his arms. Yes. He was very unhappy indeed. She peered past him for a quick second and caught Roldan shaking his head.

"My brother. My brother is what's happening." Sarah frowned, about to ask further when she was startled by a hand suddenly grasping at her shoulder.

"Well, what did you think?" Sarah jumped and whipped around to face Davion. He was grinning at her, his head tilted playfully and tendrils of hair, darkened with sweat, stuck to his face. Sarah opened her mouth but struggled with what to say.

"Uh...it was...I...it was something alright," she said, nodding her head as she tried to make sense of, and at the same time ignore, what was happening on the floor below them. Davion's grin widened with satisfaction and he exhaled deeply as if out of breath.

"Thank you. I thought you might like it."

"Did you...make all that up just now?"

"Yes."

"Wow. That's...amazing." She sat back in awe. Was this really something people here just did on the fly? She could never pull a composition like that clear out of her ass.

"Improvisation is a parlour trick," Davion said, and she glanced back at him. "Up here in these mountains one must refine their means of entertainment, lest it become stale."

"Oh...Well, I guess you're very good at it then. Your voice is really lovely," she said, smiling. Davion beamed, happy he may have finally broken through that sour demeanor of hers.

"Oh isn't it though? I do so enjoy hearing My Lord Davion sing. I think it is what I miss most about leaving," Mariella chimed in. She'd leaned over and was holding his arm as she spoke to Sarah, her grin ever-so giddy and Sarah noted then just how well admiration suited Davion. The look he now assumed was of pure conceit.

"So you do this a lot?" she asked him. Davion nodded, leaning forward to grab his drink.

"Why of course! I am only too ready to show my lovely companions fair appreciation. You ask that as if it's something you're unaccustomed to," he said, tossing a shady look at Jareth from over the rim of his chalice. Sarah failed to notice it however and only shook her head in confusion.

"Um, well, I'm not-"

"Gasp!" Davion interjected, slamming his cup down on the table for dramatic effect. Sarah startled back, giving him room to invade her personal space once again. He leaned forward, almost around her, as he spoke to Jareth. "Jareth, you mean to tell me you have yet to sing to her?" Jareth was silent and so was Sarah. She turned her head around to him warily. Was this something he was meant to do? Why was she so clueless right now? Davion laughed at Jareth's stoic silence and reeled himself in, waving a scolding finger at him. "For shame brother. And you say you are in love with this poor girl."

"Um, excuse me, why would you expect Jareth to sing to me?" Sarah asked, unaware of the air of awkwardness now spreading among the other guests at the table. Roldan and Mariella had each retreated, leaning far back in their seats and burying their faces in their cups, though again, Sarah failed to notice right away. Davion gave her a look of pity.

"Oh. Oh dear. Sweet sister. Don't you know? Singing is considered sacred to the fae," he said, resting an elbow on the table as he turned himself toward her. His free hand splayed over his chest. "Our song is our heart, is our life. We only entrust it to those whom we cherish most. Of course you can imagine why I assumed your ever-doting husband would have long since serenaded you to the moon and back." And to this Sarah blinked. It seemed like she'd cornered herself in some sort of situation and had foolishly allowed Davion to maneuver her there. Why the hell was Jareth being so quiet? She understood the insult clearly enough. He was trying to mock Jareth by implying he did not care enough about her to ever sing. Well fuck that. She had heard him sing. Even if it was...a long time ago.

"Oh...um...I...I have heard Jareth sing, actually," she said, fighting for confidence. Davion was just as much a bully as his brother, though she was out of her element here and unable to meet him punch for punch. Her eyes darted away then, for her comment had earned a truly unexpected reaction. Davion's eyes lit up, delightfully, and he gaped. She couldn't see Jareth and Roldan's expressions behind her but she could feel them, and she imagined they matched that of Mariella's. Shocked. She didn't understand. Sarah could have sworn she'd told her Jareth had sung to her once...It didn't seem like such a big deal at the time.

"Really?! Oh do tell-"

"Davion. I think you've had enough fun." Sarah turned back at the sound of Jareth's sharp interjection. He looked angry. Very angry. Like all the while he'd been biding his time, tallying all the little things being said and done to get the most out of inevitable retribution. Sarah pursed her lips and recoiled into her seat. She knew from experience what was on the verge of happening and she wanted no part of it. Was this something...she shouldn't even be discussing in the first place? "Perhaps you should tend to your horde before things get out of hand," he added. Davion huffed, the only one immune to the threat posed in Jareth's posture, and threw himself back in his seat.

"Hmph, if I could be so lucky," he said, tossing a hand carelessly through the air. "Perhaps the air wouldn't be oversaturated had you not impeded my efforts. I was suspicious as to why things were feeling a bit duller up here. Jareth, don't tell me I went to such efforts for naught? You really are no fun at all."

"What?"

Sarah's brow drew tight. What the hell was he talking about? Davion shrugged and ran a hand through his hair.

"You seemed so tense. I wanted to help loosen you up. Though it seems my brother had other ideas. You're more than welcome to join me in the pit, you know." He spoke as if she wasn't completely confused and she glanced down to the 'pit'. The people there were still going strong, dancing and cajoling, and touching each other without shame.

"Your efforts? What efforts?" she asked, though now turned back to Jareth. He was still irritated but it didn't phase her now. "Jareth? What did you do?"

Jareth sighed. This was really annoying him now. All Davion had to do was serve them dinner. He expected the spectacle, but was it really too much to remain civilized? Sarah had not yet been exposed to the more hedonistic sides of his culture, and he'd have preferred to be the one to navigate her there himself. She wasn't ready for this.

"Davion's song," he said, and pinched the bridge of his nose. "He used it as a means of casting an enchantment on the room."

"What?"

"I prevented it from reaching here."

"What enchantment? You mean the-" and then she paused, her eyes going wide. "The freaking orgy going on down there?! You did that on purpose?" She whipped around to face Davion, who had been awaiting said outburst.

"Oh come now, not you too," he said, growing bored of how uptight everyone had suddenly become. "I simply doused the air with a bit of mystic opioid. I know you've been watching them. They don't seem to mind it, do they?" Sarah's expression was one of distaste, though not one entirely without intrigue. It was gratuitous, certainly. Definitely inappropriate. However...they did seem to be enjoying themselves. And it now made sense why they were flocking to him as if desperate for a quick fix. She caught herself wondering then, for a very brief moment, if she could allow herself to partake in something like that. A state of heightened anxiety had become normal to her. The idea of cutting loose was certainly tempting...

"And here you were just saying fae only sing to the ones they love to convey their deepest feelings." Regardless of temptation, Jareth had barred it from her and she knew enough to stand by him in such an instance. Davion had cast a spell on her once before. It was probably for the best that she avoid it a second time.

"Is that what I said? I don't think I used those words," Davion replied, leaning against the table and pointing at her. "There are different types of song. I could sing myself into submission for the woman I loved. I could sing to make a tree grow. I could sing to burn down a building. I could sing simply to make someone else feel good. It is a gift meant to be given, and I cherish all those who are eager to receive." He took her hand then and brought it close to his mouth. "Intimacy need not always be so intimate. You'll be wise to learn that quickly," he said, and kissed her knuckles lightly. "Once you've come round, I might be inclined to sing something else. Something for your ears only." Sarah's eyes flickered down. That was definitely way over the line. She curled her fingers before pulling her hand away. She should be telling him to fuck off, yet the only thing on her mind was the memory of Jareth's serenade while they danced and the wonder of why, as Davion chided, that if he loved her so much he hadn't done so since?

"Enough."

Jareth's offensive tone spoke for her and she peered back to find his hands fisted on the arms of his chair. She sat as far away from Davion as she could.

"Ooh, touched a nerve there, have I? Perhaps then you should be more earnest in your care of her and I wouldn't feel the need to so readily offer my services," Davion said, with a haughty snap. There was a dangerous tension brooding between the two, leaving Sarah feeling like a bone to be tugged. She wasn't sure if she should say anything, not wanting to inadvertently make things worse. "You were listening to my song, no?" She could feel Jareth gearing up beside her and leaned forward between the two of them.

"Okay, I think that's enough," Sarah said, on complete impulse. Both he and Jareth looked at her but she did well not to waver under the scrutiny. She raised her hands and looked to Davion. "Davion, why don't you go down and mingle with your-your friends? Take Mariella with you, hm?" she suggested. Davion cocked her an eyebrow, unsure whether to take her seriously. Sarah cocked one back. "That's an order." She was surprised by how stern her own voice sounded, but thankful nonetheless. Davion sat back a little and huffed. Apparently that's all it took.

"Very well then. Your Majesty," he said, with only trace sarcasm. He bowed his head, glared at Jareth, and stood to his feet. "Shall we then?" he asked Mariella, who nodded and joined him wordlessly. And then they left, just like that. Sarah watched as they made the round towards the dance floor, though she knew they were far from in the clear.

It was silent for a minute, until Sarah finally exhaled and leaned back in her chair.

"Jareth? Is everything alright? Should we leave?" Though she was confident she'd defused one bomb she was unsure whether any more remained. Jareth seemed...less aggressive now that his brother was gone. That could only be a good thing.

Jareth watched his brother parade Sarah's nymph amidst the crowd, casually prattling on as if nothing that had just happened mattered. They each knew otherwise. He detested him when he was in moods like this. When he felt the need to place himself at the center of every emotion. He seemed worse now. Like he was targeting Sarah with a particular ire that Jareth couldn't place. He was taking any chance he could find to provoke him, like a child, and needed to be dealt with like a child.

He sighed, acknowledging he may have been too lenient just now. Hopefully, for his brother's sake, he would choose not to escalate things any further.

"Do you want to leave?" Jareth asked. He'd been trying his best to keep all of Sarah's needs met as Liana had suggested, which meant putting aside the baggage between he and his brother for the sake of this trip. With any luck, she'd be well satisfied and never insist they venture here again.

"I don't...want to escalate things with Davion. Maybe you were right about him. Maybe we should have just stayed home."

"Finally, she talks sense." Sarah looked around Jareth, having nearly forgotten Roldan was still sitting beside him at the end of the table. Well, he'd certainly chosen his moment to make himself known. Sarah glared and he caught her eye. He paused then, realizing he was out of turn. "On second thought...perhaps I'll get some air," he said, awkwardly and left. Sarah stared after him too. Geez, way to make it obvious Roldan. His abrupt departure only made the tension worse, leaving Sarah to squirm alone in her seat.

"I don't think I fully understand what's happened," she said, trying not to fiddle her fingers. Her head was cast down but she spied on him from the corner of her eye. He was still looking angry, and he had yet to respond. "When Davion started singing, it seemed like you got really angry. What was he talking about in that song?"

"Nothing," Jareth said. His tone was harsh, too harsh. He reigned himself in and shook his head. "Nothing important," he added, softer. Sarah peered down again and pouted.

"Everyone seemed on edge when we brought up your singing. Should I not have said anything?" She really didn't understand. She'd spent weeks learning fae culture from Roldan and he'd somehow completely missed informing her on any of this. She wondered if he'd left it out on purpose. If maybe he'd been directed to…

Jareth tapped a finger against the edge of the table before leaning back. He relaxed a little, in posture if nothing else.

"No...It was he who should not have said anything. It is...considered highly inappropriate to discuss another fae's song in public," he explained, which now explained Roldan and Mariella's reactions. Sarah folded her hands in her lap and inspected them absently.

"Oh. I didn't know. I'm sorry. The way he was going on it just seemed…"

"I know. My brother has a way of_ making things seem_." Sarah fell silent. She felt foolish. So she had embarrassed him then? Not intentionally of course, but all the same. She could choose to go on the offensive and blame him for not explaining things earlier. If it was something so damn important.

"Is there a reason...why you don't sing to me?" she asked, looking up to him cautiously. Jareth met her gaze, caught off guard by her question. "Or maybe...why you've never told me about it in the first place?"

"Yes."

He was still angry, his stern expression making it hard for her to prod the answers out of him. She took a deep breath and straightened her back. If nothing else, she still had an image to present.

"Oh…" was all she said, feeling sorry for herself that perhaps Davion was right, maybe he didn't care about her deeply enough to sing for her. Insecurity was having its wicked way, but deep down she knew even then what a ridiculous thought that was.

"I...have been reluctant," Jareth said, a willful omission that earned back Sarah's gaze. His jaw tensed and he shifted in his seat as he looked vacantly out over the crowd. "Davion spoke truth when he said our song is our life. It is our essence. But that is different from what you heard just now. Davion in a hedonist. What he did was crude and banal, an abuse of the act, meant nothing more than to entice the senses. What he was referring to with you and I is something...altogether dangerous."

"Why is it dangerous?" she asked. Jareth tilted his head as he thought of the right words.

"Dangerous...for me." He paused and gave in to the urge to look at her. Her eyes were expectant but yielding. He wished they could be alone for this conversation. "It's more intimate than even the sharing of pheromones; it is an act tantamount to wearing our heart on our sleeve. There is inherent risk in that. I haven't...always done right by you and...It may be selfish, but I suppose I didn't want to be hurt by a reaction to something you didn't fully understand...again."

"Oh...I'm sorry you've felt that way," she said, her brow softening with sympathy. He looked very uncomfortable right now and she knew how hard it must have been to say all that in their current setting. He'd been scared of making himself vulnerable to her, was that it? After all the things he'd divulged and said about his past and his feelings for her, this was considered too much? She realized her inability to fathom just how significant this was to his culture. It made her feel like an outsider. But even worse, it made her feel like she'd shamed him. And then she realized he'd said _again_. Yes, he had sung to her before and her reaction had been...the opposite of receptive. "Jareth-" she started to say, now forming a true understanding of what had upset him so deeply about Davion's instigation.

"It's nothing you need apologize for," he said, not letting her finish. "You were unaware. And it's not something that most people feel comfortable openly explaining." Oh. So maybe that was why Roldan never brought it up? She wanted to ask but there were more pressing things to say. "And besides, I'm the one who rendered our relations so fickle in the first place."

He'd smiled but looked away, a gesture that only made her frown deepen.

"Jareth," she repeated, this time her tone urging him to look at her. He did, though not right away. "When we danced...and you sang to me," she started, then trailed off in a different direction. "I of course had no idea back then, but Roldan explained to me that songs were sometimes used to enhance magic; so I've been assuming that was the reason. I've thought back on it a lot and...When you sang to me then it was to maintain the phantasm, right? And at the end...when I was running around in that physic-less cluster of stairs trying to get Toby, that was you trying to keep me lost in it...right?" Her questions were rhetorical and she glanced away in disappointment. This was one of those things, one of those crucial details she wished she'd known from the beginning.

Jareth stared at her intently. For some reason, he didn't think she would remember.

"...It was," he said, reluctantly. Spells on her that day were not the first he'd used a song to imbue, though they were the first that were imbued with something more substantial. He paused before speaking again. "Although...they were also from the heart." Sarah turned to him slowly. When their gazes crossed he felt suddenly exposed. He opened his mouth but hesitated. "You were under my spell, yes. And while you were dazed, it seemed to me then...easier to say what I couldn't otherwise. You weren't exactly paying attention to the words, were you?" His look on her softened as the memories faded in and out. He hadn't thought much of the impulse back then, of how much such a thing would affect him later on. When he had begged her to stay and she outright refused…

"Not at the time, no," Sarah said, honestly. That day her only real thought was getting Toby back. It wasn't until later, long after it was all said and done, that she thought back on it. Over and over. She remembered those words, and that sound, and his face with remarkable clarity. For a long time she'd thought her adolescent mind had embellished those memories, made them into something they weren't. It seemed now however she was right all along. Maybe he really had loved her from the beginning. "But I do...still remember." He was surprised when she continued speaking, surprised by how hopeful her expression had become. "I think about it a lot...all the time really. Wondering if I'll ever hear it again. Davion's voice is very beautiful. It's haunting even. But...it's still nothing compared to yours. Yours is lower and fuller and altogether...heartrending. I only wish I'd known how important that was."

He couldn't rightly say how affected he was by what she had just said to him. She had no idea of the significance, what saying something like that really meant. He wanted to reach out and cling to her, to hold her until she suffocated and felt even just half as overwrought as he did. He'd never sang from his heart to another person. Never predicted in all his life he ever would and yet that day it had just happened. It had felt natural, and effortless, and for the first time he wanted someone to know. He wanted to be seen. When she hadn't, when her gaze had gone plainly through him it had been devastating. It had made him bitter, angry, and vengeful. Intimacy was not a good thing. It was never a good thing when it rendered a person weak and helpless. But now, ever since she'd returned, it had torn him asunder, over and over, and only made him stronger for it. He felt strong when she looked at him, when she saw just how weak he really was.

"That...is a relief to hear," he said, not knowing what else to say. If they were alone he might have been able to express himself more. However, in this place, there were eyes and ears at every corner. "When Davion sang…" he added, cocking his head and biting his tongue as if regretting the impulse. "You admired him. He sang to you and cast a spell, and I watched your eyes widen with wonder and…" and it made him jealous. It made him jealous and resentful that he could not elicit such a reaction from her when his intentions had been genuine. When he had wanted more than a casual fuck. He couldn't bring himself to say this however. Instead he only bit his cheek.

"And I would have much rather heard it from you." He looked over. She was looking down, embarrassed, or at least unsure, and pinched the tips of her fingers. So she did understand then? Or at least in part, the intimacy of their conversation. He was glad for that. "I don't…" she continued, giving in to look back at him and locked her eyes on his unintentionally. "...want you to feel any pressure because of what Davion did just now but...I want you to know that if you ever do feel like it...I would very much like to hear you sing again." Sarah waited a beat. He said nothing but his jaw tensed, and she knew he must be holding himself back on account of their surroundings. She turned away from him and smiled softly. "It's honestly the most wonderful thing I've ever heard. Regardless of my ignorance on the matter, it's not something I would never take lightly." She reached over and took his hand. Held it firmly, naturally, and brushed her thumb along his knuckles.

* * *

Roldan stood in the corner at the back of the room wondering why in the living hell he was still here. There were befuddled bodies every which way, doting and dancing and, with all likelihood, fornicating within an arm's reach. The sound, and the smell, and the sight of which left him wholly unimpressed. He glanced over at the familiar sound of Mariella's laughter. She and Davion were heading towards him, though he hoped it was unintentional. It was not.

"Oh, Master Roldan! There you are!" she said, slinking against Davion as the effects of his charm overtook her. Roldan huffed. She may not be as powerful as her Lord, but he knew even she was capable of abstaining had she felt the desire. He took a deep breath and exhaled roughly.

"I'd ask if you were enjoying yourself, but it seems as if we've all been kicked to the curb," Davion said, smiling down at Mariella as she stumbled from his hold. She was smiling widely. A big toothy grin that Roldan regarded as being far too pure for the likes of Davion.

"Indeed," Roldan said, dryly.

"Aw look at that. I think they made up!" Mariella had turned, and at her suggestion so did Roldan and Davion, and together they spied on the distant figures of Jareth and Sarah, speaking quietly to one another. Mariella hummed with glee and clapped.

"Made up? I didn't realize they were fighting in the first place," Roldan said, not fathoming why in the world she was so invested in their relationship.

"Oh come now Master Roldan. Look at them up there, all small smiles and knowing eyes. It's so cute I tell you."

"You're disgusting."

"And you're depressing," Mareilla snapped. She turned back to him with a glare and it was the first time he'd ever seen her make such an expression. Davion laughed and caught her as she wobbled.

"Quite right, my love," he said, holding her steady as he shot Roldan a playful eye.

"I'm so glad Sarah is finally happy. And His Majesty too, of course," she said in a drawl. "Even with your nasty instigations Lord Davion," she added, jabbing him in the ribs with mock distaste. Davion had the gall to place a shocked hand over his heart.

"Oh, whatever do you mean?" he asked, roguishly. Mariella wrinkled her nose and took hold of the collar of his shirt -for balance.

"Come now. Even I was shocked you'd say something so rude. Things haven't exactly been easy for them, you know."

"No, I don't. Not since you stopped writing to me, at least."

"Mph," Roldan huffed and shook his head. These two were quite the pair. He rolled his eyes away for a moment and glanced back to Jareth and Sarah. They were still talking, leaning in subtly and smiling. "She's right, you know," he said, giving Davion a stern side-eye. "You pushed too far. I wouldn't be surprised to find you on the receiving end of a switch the moment Sarah takes to bed."

"Oh Roldan, you're such a tease," Davion said, waving him off. He really didn't care for his threats, or Jareth's for that matter. Punishments meant nothing to him. He need only make sure his gain was worth the cost. "How was I supposed to know no-one had told her of our more private nuances? Let alone it would be such a tender subject." He'd grabbed a flute from a passing waiter and fed Mariella before downing the rest himself.

"Oh psh, you very well knew. You naughty little thing." Mariella jabbed him again, only this time she somewhat meant it. Davion shrugged.

"Well, if nothing else, it seems I've done them a favor. Wouldn't you agree, Roldan?" Roldan had no idea why he'd called him out just now and glanced at him suspiciously. Davion was watching him carefully, that wry smile ever-so-plainly etched across his face. Roldan scowled and looked away. Apparently he'd been watching them too closely.

"Oh, Mariella? Is that you? Oh darling, do come here!" a female voice shouted from out of the crowd. All heads turned and Mariella's drooping eyes now widened with glee.

"Gretilda? Oh my dear, it's been too long!" she shouted back, bouncing up on her toes and waving. She turned to Roldan and Davion then and tossed them a dismissive hand. "Forgive me gentlemen, but I must go and mingle," she said and, as if it was perfectly natural, rose up just as Davion's head turned and gave him a soft little kiss. He smiled at her and she skipped away.

Roldan was hoping now that Mariella had left, Davion would as well. He didn't.

They stood awkwardly together. Awkward for Roldan at least, as he could feel the imp's gaze searing into him urgently. He tried his best to ignore it but gave in rather quickly.

"What?" he asked, sharply. Davion chuckled. All he had to do was stare. Oh, how easy it was to ruffle this poor frustrated man.

"Are you enjoying yourself?" he asked. Roldan crossed his arms and leaned back against the wall.

"I thought you'd decided not to ask me that?" he replied. Davion took a step towards him and mirrored his posture against the wall.

"I would be a poor host not to," he said and cocked his head towards Roldan so he could be better heard. "There's really no reason to hold yourself back. Jareth won't mind." Roldan scowled harder. As if Davion actually cared whether or not he had a good time.

"It's not about that," he said. Davion smiled.

"Of course not." It was quiet for a moment. Uncomfortably so. "Are you perhaps worried he'll find out about our little arrangement?" he asked, and earned a sharp and angry glare in return. His smile broadened cheekily and he laughed. "Oh there we go," he said, with satisfaction.

"You really are going all out tonight, aren't you?" he asked. Davion gave in to lean against Roldan's shoulder. Roldan thought about stepping away just then and letting him fall to the floor, but refrained.

"Oh, if you only knew." His words hung ominously in the air and Roldan tried his best not to play into it. Instead he sighed roughly. How had he gotten stuck dealing with this mongrel? "Have you seen Candela around?" he asked. Roldan quirked a brow but bit his cheek.

"No," he said, plainly.

"Hm...she must still be preparing your room then."

Roldan tried but could not conceal the twitch that moved through his ears. He tensed a little, something Davion was surely aware of with his head resting against his shoulder.

"That will be unnecessary," he said. Davion leaned in a little further and pointed out at Jareth and Sarah from across the room.

"Why? Because you're on the clock?" he asked. "I've kept our little secret for how many years Roldan? What makes you think I'd give you away now?" Roldan's teeth ground. He really did not want to be in the position Davion was backing him in to. He didn't respond, and after a moment Davion huffed exasperatingly. "Oh fine," he said, with another dramatic sigh. "Then go sleep in a snowbank for all I care." By now his hand had fallen to Roldan's shoulder, using him for support as he leaned over him rather suggestively. He was frowning however, growing more and more disappointed with how ungodly boring they had all become. He was staring out over the crowd, just as Roldan, and then his eyes perked up. "And what's this? Is the happy couple leaving?"

"...No," Roldan said, standing up a little straighter and shoving Davion off of him. "I think they're about to join us."

* * *

Sarah continued to stare out over the room in a contented silence. She felt better now, and Jareth's grip on her hand told her he did too. She was smiling to herself, a small little sated expression that he would spy on every now and again. Her hair was up, revealing the elegant contour of her neck and shoulders which were usually hidden. His eyes would travel down, marveling at how undeniably fitting she looked. Regal, with a sharp nose and discerning eye. She probably wouldn't think it, but she exuded a great deal of confidence in moments of repose.

"Davion looks like he's bothering Roldan," she said, drawing him from his gander. He looked up and followed her line of sight to find his brother strewing himself languidly over a very irate looking Roldan. Poor thing, he thought, with actual sympathy. "You know…" she started, tilting her head with contemplation. She kept her eyes searching the crowd but now his turned back to her. "I know you did it for my sake but...I'm not _opposed _to going down there."

Now that was unexpected. He turned to face her a little more.

"That's surprising," he said. Sarah furrowed her brow just slightly.

"Is it?"

"I thought you would have been appalled." Sarah pursed her lips and cracked a smile.

"You think I'm too uptight," she said. Jareth's brow softened.

"No. I think you're innocent. I don't want you to feel compelled to jump into something you're not ready for," he said. Oddly to him, she only frowned. Apparently that wasn't what she wanted to hear.

"I don't think I like...that you think of me that way." Now that was really unexpected. He started to sit back when she turned to look at him. "It makes me feel inferior." She spoke plainly, with no inflection of any kind. Jareth tilted his head, wondering where she was going with this.

"I've never thought that," he said and she looked away. Her grip on his hand tightened.

"I've never…" she started, and then paused, insecure over the information she wanted to divulge. It may only prove his point. "...done anything like this. Obviously. I've never done drugs, or even smoked a cigarette. I've drank at parties, sure, but...even then, it always made me nervous. I am uptight. I've always been too scared to do something more risky. I find myself wondering if you'll resent that. If, were you not with me now, you would be down there with the rest of them enjoying Davion's charm to its fullest." She bit her lip as she finished her sentence. She looked anxious, anxious to move, like she in fact was longing to be the one down there herself and very much so. Jareth's expression changed. He was caught off guard, and tugged on her hand until she looked at him.

"Honestly? Yes. If you were not present in my life, I most likely would be down there. With that said, I feel no compulsion to do so now. My desire, entirely, is to be with you." She stared at him skeptically, her brow all worried and cute. Jareth smiled. "You still suffer the notion that you somehow bore me or eventually will. I would have thought, by now, such thoughts would long be dead." He kissed her hand sweetly, which only marginally soothed her. Yes, she was insecure that she wouldn't be enough to fill his appetites. She was only one woman after all, vastly inexperienced, and largely unwilling to entertain many, if not most, of the things he probably counted as no more exciting than Sunday brunch. She frowned at him and looked away, a bit of a scowl turning her brow.

"I don't want to be innocent," she mumbled, curling her hands in her lap. Looking over the scene, seeing what took place at what she was sure would be considered a mundane fae affair, made her want to do more. Be more. She wanted to be careless. She wanted to be enticed, enthralled, and adventurous. Not merely for Jareth's sake, but because she could feel a tremor deep inside urging her to break free of self-made constraints. He'd always accused her of being a sensual creature. She wanted the confidence to tell him he was right.

She felt caged being the only ones still sitting behind a table.

"You want to go down there?" he asked and she peered back to him. "You really want to put yourself at the mercy of Davion's spell?" She frowned again when he asked that. When he phrased it like that, she thought maybe she was being foolish and should just take it all back. But the way he was looking at her, it wasn't with disapproval or even refusal. He was just asking. Plain and simple.

"I…" she started and then changed directions. "If you think it would otherwise be safe, then yes. I do."

Jareth was genuinely surprised. By her initial reaction, he thought she was assuredly turned-off from the prospect. It really didn't bother him. Rejecting this party meant she was rejecting Davion and that was always good. However, this was a turn that presented a whole new set of problems. He wanted to say yes. The more he thought about it the more he really, really wanted to say yes. But, he was wary of her temperamental state. If she lost inhibition...he wasn't sure what that would mean regarding her subconscious spellcasting. On the other hand, Liana had told him not to let her want anything too badly and she looked like she wanted to join the party very, very badly. He needed to choose the path of less risk…

"Alright," he said, something she was, by all account, shocked to hear. Her head darted back to him and her eyes widened, as if she'd never bothered even hoping he would actually say yes.

"Really?"

Jareth held her gaze for a moment as he contemplated something. She looked so damn eager all of the sudden. It gave him an idea. He reached out for her plate and pulled it closer, then waved his fingers over it and a little berry appeared.

"Eat that," he said, as if she would comply automatically. She furrowed her brow and looked down at it.

"Why, what is it?" she countered. Jareth tilted his head.

"It's a moon berry," he said, and she pursed her lips as she pretended to know what the hell that was. He could see she was confused and filled in the gaps. "Letting you experience Davion's charm is more complicated than simply walking down there. I'd have to remove several of my wards from you and I'd rather not do that. This however, will induce a similar effect as Davion's spell. Only, this is natural. Which means you won't fall victim to the whim of someone else's magic." Sarah stared down at her plate and hummed, her lips pouting as she thought. She'd just told him she'd never done drugs before and was feeling instinctively hesitant. This was however, exactly the opportunity she'd just been asking for. She needed to woman up and just do it.

"So...what will it do then, exactly?" she asked.

"Help you relax."

"Will I start seeing rainbows melting down the walls or royally-dressed pigs with seven heads?" He laughed at how specific, and earnest, she was in her depictions, and shook his head.

"No. I don't think you're ready for something like that, at least not while in my brother's company." Sarah nodded in agreement. She was looking down at her plate very nervously, so he elaborated further. "Fear not, this particular fruit is considered a minor narcotic. You'll experience something akin to having a few strong glasses of alcohol in you, since you are apparently adverse to _actually_ drinking any tonight. You'll remain in control of yourself, and your perception of reality, I assure you." Her eyes shot over to him quickly, knowing from that less-than-subtle drop that her faux pas had not yet been forgotten.

"Yeah, well, maybe something told me I'd be better off keeping my hands out of Davion's punch bowl," she said, to her defense. Jareth smirked and reached out to smooth away the sowl from her brow.

"Self-preservation is a valuable trait to have. However, as I've said, you don't have to engage in anything you are uncomfortable with. I'm content as we are," he said, which only made Sarah's scowl worsen. He really was content, wasn't he? Well shit. She wasn't. Not at all.

She took up her knife and cut it in half.

"Only if you take it with me," she said, looking him straight in the eye. Jareth smiled then, a creeping, pride-filled smile.

"If you insist...Just remember to mind your output."

He wasn't sure if this would end well, but he was sure it was the better course of action. The air surrounding her was still dead, so he was skeptical whether Davion's charm would work on her anyway. This way no magic was required and she would effectively be kept safe. He wanted to fulfill her needs and was happy she'd finally started expressing them. Only eating half should still allow her to have full control of her faculties, so...He couldn't imagine anything too bad happening.

He took up his sliced half and placed it on his tongue, letting the tip of his finger graze sensually along it as he did so. Sarah gulped. She was obviously skeptical. But seeing he'd now passed the point of no return, she quickly swallowed her nerves along with the remaining berry. _Mind my output? Oh right -pheromones._

She sat there nervously as if she expected the change to be instantaneous.

"Well?" Jareth said, and she looked over to find he had stood and was now offering her his hand. "Shall we then?" She took his hand and lifted the skirt of her dress as she made her way around the table.

She was half expecting the crowd to stop dead once again at the sign of their procession. However, they did not. A few stared. Others pointed and nudged, cackling behind their hands and their fans, their mouths hanging slack mid-sentence as they watched, with growing excitement, as Jareth led her down the steps and into the pit. By now the tables had been moved, making for a sizable dance floor that was already well in use. She peered around them anxiously, their sideways glances were hungry and not always pleasant, and decided she would be better off keeping her attention strictly on Jareth.

She wasn't quite sure where to go from here. She didn't _feel_ high. Though she acknowledged it'd only been about a minute and a half. Was that a dumb thought to have? Jareth walked her to the center of the room where curious onlookers readily stepped aside. There was a noticeable perimeter forming around them, which Sarah found to be rather awkward. She supposed it was better than being pressed up against them, at least.

The smell was...interesting.

"You seem on edge," Jareth said, turning her towards him and embracing her in a waltzing stance. She'd noticed the dancing here was different than at her wedding celebration. It was less structured and seemingly by whim. Lots of twirling and quick feet. Careless in a sense. She wondered how in the world she could keep up with it.

"Don't want to step on your toes, I guess," she said, glancing down with a false laugh. Jareth's smile curled.

"You'll be doing much more than that in a few moments, I promise," he said, which caught her attention and, at the sharp look of terror that spread across her face, he gripped her tightly and spun them into the fray.

He moved her effortlessly, commanded her body with each step, and laughed at the stumble or two that sent her falling into him. She wasn't ready. Not hardly in fact. And her panicked gaze veered as she struggled to keep up. He was toying with her yes, tossing her slight frame about like a ragdoll.

The sight of a smile on the Goblin King's face brought assurance to the merry onlookers, who gradually began drawing themselves closer and closer as they danced. Sarah too was smiling, a large radiant smile that he wished he could keep all to himself. Tendrils of hair fell loose from their pins and floated about her face, and her eyes had turned from him to glance freely about the crowd. He could sense a change going through her, mainly because it was one he was now experiencing himself. After a few minutes, when the stretch of her smile betrayed her, he slowed, as the room continued to spin, and reached up to pull away a lock of hair that had caught on her lip.

"Feeling better yet?" he asked, and she swayed in his arms.

"Yes. Whoa, are we-are we still spinning?" she asked, chuckling as she brought a hand to her temple. Jareth grinned. Her cheeks were starting to flush and her beaming smile turned lazy.

"No. We're standing perfectly still." And yet the room was spinning. Wait. No. Those were just people dancing.

"I see...Well then." She smiled a little wider, her eyes falling vacantly on a woman who passed close by. Her elbow brushed her arm and it tingled something fierce. "Say, this wouldn't happen to be affecting me more so than you, would it? With me being mortal and all," she said, taking a step back from him but still clutching his arm. She was starting to feel...buzzed? Was that right? Had the dance accelerated things?

"Only marginally," he said, feeling a definite heat building in his own eyes. He may have a higher tolerance for stimulants and depressants, but not because she was a human. While he doubted he would be feeling as strongly as she, it was still one of his favorites. It made one feel very_ free_.

She hummed, petting his arm absentmindedly as she stared out over the crowd.

"I feel drunk. Is that right?" she asked, then turned back to look at him. "What would happen if I ate an entire bushel of those things?" He laughed at how enticed she sounded. Her eyes were strained wide and her pupils were steadily dilating. He never thought she would just come out and _ask _him for this.

"You would die," he said, amusedly. Sarah nodded. That made sense. "Would you like to keep dancing?" Sarah peered around.

"Um. Hang on…" she muttered and stepped away from him. She was a little wobbly and laughed as she caught herself. Wow, that tiny half a berry was really hitting her now. Jareth watched her kneel to the floor and grew curious when she reached up under her skirt.

There were ties underneath which, apparently, connected to the loose tassels hanging about the external layers of her skirt. She'd discovered this while dressing that afternoon, and thought it rather convenient should she indeed get too hot as Jareth foretold. She tied them each precariously, leaving everyone to wonder what in the hell the Queen was doing hobbled over on the floor at the feet of the King. When she stood, the effect of her outfit was dramatically different.

Her legs were bared above the knee. Her skirts rose in asymmetric undulations that fell lower to her calves in the back. Her naked feet and slender ankles posed rather sensuously for any who dared look. Her crimped underskirts, now revealed in tatters, were a wanton blood red that framed the pale skin of her thighs rather invitingly. Jareth watched eagerly. She wasn't done yet.

Her arms rose above her head and she tilted it this way and that as she removed her hair pins. It cascaded down, and she clawed her hands into her scalp and ruffled it, shaking her head as the dark tresses tumbled down past her shoulders. She looked away from Jareth, smiled, and reached out to the nearest hand.

There was a couple, a man and a woman, dancing slowly rather close to them. Sarah tapped on the woman's shoulder, a bawdy smile on her face, and took hold of her hand without the slightest preamble. This surprised not only the lady, but Jareth as well.

"Would you mind holding these for me, please?" she asked, placing her pile of pins in the woman's hand and curling her fingers closed. Jareth started laughing. The woman blinked then nodded, as if greatly honored for the privilege, and drew her hand back close to her chest. Sarah turned away without a thought and grabbed ahold of Jareth's shoulders. "Alright. I'm ready."

She pursed her lips but couldn't dispel her smile as she locked eyes with him. He was staring down at her, trying his very best not to audibly laugh. She looked wild. An untamed thing. Wilting so salaciously down his torso. There was an earthiness about her, something pure and uncut. Her bare limbs began to shine and her hair took on a steamy curl from the humidity caused by so many laboured breaths. She bit her lip, a little too hard, which then became red and rosy beneath her teeth.

She looked every bit a creature of destruction. And he couldn't help but remark how well she fit by his side.

"What?" Sarah asked, giving in to sway against him a little bit. He was just staring at her, with that vacant-but-not-quite look that often had her second guessing herself. She cared naught this time however. She didn't care about anything.

"It's...like night and day," he said, cheerfully. Sarah scoffed, wrinkling her brow and shoving at him. She was surprised when he lost his footing. Apparently she wasn't the only one feeling a little crocked.

"Yes…" she started, her head dipping low for a moment as she peered around suspiciously. "I think we should do this more often." And she sagged, leaning her weight against him and pressing the side of her face into his chest. Her arms still clung to his shoulders. It was...a rather amusing sight.

"So long as you still feel that way in the morning, we shall," Jareth said, lifting her up and sweeping them back into the dance. He was lighter footed, which betrayed the fact that he was actually being less attentive. She twirled around, her feet flying up off the ground at times, and she giggled. He was smiling down at her and there was a glaze over his eyes. She wondered what she must look like in return. Hopefully she wasn't making a fool of herself.

* * *

"Now that is unexpected." Davion pinched his chin as he pursed his lips. He had really counted on the two of them spending the evening grumbling together atop the dais. But this was promising. His brother was even smiling. Maybe Sarah had some fun in her after all. "Do you not agree?" He turned and glanced at Roldan, who's keenly fixated stare betrayed him.

"It is," he replied. Davion's eyes narrowed.

"She looks much better let go, doesn't she?" he asked. This time, t'was the tensing of Roldan's jaw that gave him away.

"I suppose."

Davion almost burst into laughter. This was just getting too easy.

"I'm surprised she was able to talk him into letting her partake."

"What makes you think he has?" He spoke plainly, but Davion knew when a person's eye had been caught and Roldan's, plainly, had been snared.

"Look at her," he said, close to his ear. He was leaning on him again, an arm atop Roldan's shoulder. "A vixen if ever I saw one, ruffled in wine and champagne. Her cheeks are flushed. Her gaze is laden. And her lips…"

"I do have eyes," Roldan interjected. He'd given in to crossing his arms. The final tell of how uncomfortable Davion was making him.

"She's certainly under some kind of influence, whether or not it be mine. Perhaps you should ask for a dance. She may take more kindly to you."

"That is not something I am even remotely interested in."

"...Of course not."

Oh, how he joyed in teasing poor old Roldan. What a pitifully frustrated thing he was. He didn't entirely blame him though. Sarah was, by all accounts, an exotic oddity that inadvertently captured the gaze of most who passed her. It was rare for humans to be regarded as equal in beauty to a fae. And yet, if he had not known, he would have said she fit her surroundings perfectly. Even he too was feeling a bit of genuine attraction, eyes catching on the way his brother's hand krept up the inside of her thigh as he twirled her, or the way her lips parted as she gasped. He kept watching her as thoughts of the night to come excited him. Then he saw them stop dancing. Watched as Sarah took a step back, was offered a drink, and then-

Davion felt his jaw drop open in wonderful, wonderful surprise.

* * *

Sarah shuffled away from Jareth, panting to catch her breath. She didn't know if it was the physical movement or the stupor, but she felt as if she were about to succumb to the most dramatic case of dehydration. She licked her lips. Her mouth felt a little cottony.

"I need a drink," she said, and began to look around the room for a waiter. Jareth grinned, taking note of the way she forwent the compulsion to ask. Jareth conjured her one from thin air and she gulped it down ungracefully, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand as she inspected the room once more.

"Still feeling okay?" he asked.

"Are you?"

"Undoubtedly."

She huffed with laughter and took a deep breath. She could see clearly and yet things were still off. Maybe it was how she was perceiving them. She couldn't gauge her surroundings. She knew there were people nearby but it didn't_ feel_ like people were nearby. What she could feel was the thrum of drums vibrating through her, making her naked toes curl against the warm stone floor. She closed her eyes and began to move to it. Alone.

"You know, this kind of sounds like something I might listen to in the Above," she said, mindlessly dropping her cup and then giving a cute jolted 'oops!' as it fell from her hand. It vanished just before hitting the floor and she blinked at it as if that were normal.

"Really?" Jareth asked, reaching for her sides and reeling her back in as she started to subconsciously drift away.

"Mhm...in a club maybe. The music we dance to tends to have a very strong beat. Something you can really move your body to."

Now this perked Jareth's interest. He was familiar with many things in the Aboveground, but this was not one of them.

"Do explain," he said, wrapping an arm around her waist and bracing her to him as they swayed. The last time she had explained to him an Aboveground dance it had been slow and intimate. Perhaps this would be equally rewarding.

"Well," she started, and peered from face to muddled face. "It's a lot more sexy than this." She pulled away from him and raised her arms, pushing mats of hair away from her face. "The kinda thing you do alone but together. People use it as a way to relieve stress, or procure a possible mate." She spoke to his benefit and bit the T on the end of her sentence. Her eyes were closed. Her hands were still in her hair and she'd begun moving to the beat.

"That sounds…"

"Alluring?" she finished for him, throwing him an eye as she turned full circle. She knew he was watching her and it made her smile. Some of the harem had devolved into just such dances, so she figured this was not a concept unknown to him. Hands gripped hips. Bodies pressed against one another. Just add a pop n' lock and it was a regular ol' basement rave. She turned back to Jareth and stared at him hungrily. "Would you like to see?"

Normally, under circumstances where she was anything other than vaguely high, she would have been too self-conscious to make such an offer, especially in enemy territory and surrounded by people who could have easily tossed a coin between fucking and killing her. However, she was vaguely, if not definitively, high. And, as it turns out, uninhibited Sarah was an aggressive little minx.

"Are you going to show me?" Jareth asked, provokingly. He had the same look as her, challenging and thoroughly entertained. Sarah pursed her lips, then bit them. Her eyes narrowed and her hips began to move.

* * *

Davion found his gaping jaw slowly turning into a wide, beaming, brilliant grin. He'd been watching Sarah as he teased Roldan, watching as she'd stopped dancing to get a drink, as she and Jareth stood in the center of the room and talked. He'd thought of joining them at that moment, to spy on Roldan's expression as he wrapped his hands around his compromised sister while batting his brother's away.

Then something better happened. Sarah had glanced away, in their direction no less, and she had donned the most impish of grins. She rose her hands up into her hair and stepped away from Jareth. She'd sighed and feathered her lashes and poised her body in a way he never expected her to. The beat of the band was slow, deep, something more tribal than classical. Davion often saved such tunes for later in the evening, when clothing was misplaced and the heat of the night had everything dripping. It seemed Sarah was looking to hurry the schedule.

Davion was not the only one who had noticed this. Several sets of eyes glanced back to The Queen, who was putting on what was considered to be an extremely provocative display by any means. Her hips churned to the music. Her hands ran up and down her own body. She turned and dipped and rolled and came back up again. As more and more gazes fell to her it became clear she knew exactly what she was doing. And all the while Jareth watched with them, completely abashed that his nervous little plaything had been carrying around such a nasty, nasty secret.

Sarah's eyes scanned the crowd. They were mostly watching her but this hardly phazed her. If anything it encouraged her. They looked uncertain, intimidated even. At least, that's the way her inebriated brain interpreted it. She was no longer shy of them, which was good, as they took her languid eye-contact as a signal to join.

Gradually the tone of the room began to change. People stood from their seats, or released their current partners, to join Sarah in the dance. They moved much the same way she did, confirming her suspicions, and some of the women even smiled when she caught their eye. She turned back to Jareth, a little impressed with herself.

"Well?" she asked, turning around and rolling her hips. She glanced back to make sure he was staring at her ass while she did so. She could hear cackling in the background. Exclamations of great enthusiasm. And moans. Wait, moans?

"I think…" Jareth started, still in mild disbelief. "You need to come over here. Now." There was a dark promise in those words, in that carnal glimmer in his eye. She smiled wide and moved back to him. He grabbed her by the wrist and tugged sharply. She fell into him with a gasp, her hands propping herself up on his forearms as he moved to grasp her hips tightly. She was obviously clueless to the implication of her actions, but that was just fine. He began to move her, move her with him, grinding her against his thigh as he leaned in close to whisper in her ear, "You have no idea what you've just started."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N - This is literally half the chapter...the second half will pick up immediately where this one ends. Regarding the flashbacks, if the Jareth/Aurelia plot line isn't for you, rest easy that there will not be any more for a little while...Although they are extremely important to the present Sarah/Jareth story so...keep track of that. ;) I hope the song/dance section translated well. I think one definitely needs to have the song fresh in their mind when reading it in order for the "feel" of it to come across. Well, anyway, until next time <3


	119. Chapter 24, A Rock And A Hot Place, Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N - Alright fam, I'm posting this a little early in light of all the Corona stress many of you may be feeling. This is THE LONGEST chapter I've ever written. It's crazy. And this is only part 2. Altogether, Rock And A Hot Place is about 80k works x.x I've wondered what the hell happened to make it so long...it's probably the sex. No, it's definitely the sex. There is more sex and smut in this chapter than in any other I've written. *faints dramatically* -I suppose that is my disclaimer for those of a more delicate constitution. Hopefully that will bring you a better kind of stress than that provoked IRL. For those of you who have seen my latest fanart painting floating around the community, it is depicting a scene located somewhere in this chapter...

Chapter 24, A Rock And A Hot Place, part 2

* * *

Sarah's confidence wavered for only a second as she processed what Jareth had said. He looked happy, downright triumphant, and he kissed her openly. She pushed herself back from it.

"Hold on there a minute," she said, glancing about the room. Everyone looked just as excited as he, the number of smiles and wicked glances that were now falling her way proved foreboding. Jareth, jerking her back to attention, twirled her around and brought her back flat against his torso.

"Oh, don't stop now," he said, challengingly, and nipped at her ear. She was still watching the crowd. Sarah's ear was not the only one being nipped. She was however the one now wearing the most clothing.

It seemed her display had been more than a careless tease for Jareth. It had been a signal to all those in the room that it was time to commence something decidedly more...decadent.

Oh dear.

Jareth had swept the hair from her neck and was currently kissing it, but she was still just watching. Mouths were on mouths. And other places. Dresses and shirts fell from shoulders. Breasts pressed against breasts and the hands...the hands were...oh no. She chose not to look. Much too brazenly, articles of clothing were surreptitiously abandoned from hat to sock. Sarah's hazy gaze became worried. When she'd called it an orgy earlier, she had been exaggerating. But now-

"I didn't know you could move like that," Jareth said, turning her back to face him. He was still moving her to the music, their bodies pressed closely against one another. His smile was snakelike, predatory, and he grasped the back of her jaw as he angled her face up towards him.

"You never asked," she countered, biting his lip while her hands pressed down on his belt. His knee was in her groin again, and she moved her body against him shamelessly. "Should I be concerned...about what's happening all around us?" she asked, trying not to betray her trace apprehension. The berry certainly helped. Actually, asking him that just now felt more like a formality.

While Sarah's gaze was far too curious, Jareth had eyes only for her. He was greatly aroused by her performance, even more so by what it meant.

She'd asserted herself as his Queen. Embraced his culture as her own, and welcomed Davion's pride as her very own subjects. Of course, she had no idea, but no one else knew that. All they saw was_ their Queen_, deeply involved in and celebrating one of their more carnal and intrinsic customs. Something that they had probably assumed she would turn her nose at. If any of Davion's harem was skeptical about their allegiance to her, he highly doubted it now. The fae loved a good party. No matter who threw it.

"Don't worry, I'll protect you," he said, teasingly. Things may very well get too out of hand for Sarah's comfort, and at that time he would whisk her safely away. However, he was also eager to push her limits, to see just how much she would indulge. Her eyes kept darting around the room, and the mild panic he saw in them brought a smile to his face. Good. It seemed that, even under the influence, she would belong only to him.

"Where is Davion?" she suddenly asked. "And Roldan and Mariella too, for that matter."

"Who cares," Jareth said, drawing her attention back to him. Her cheeks were still flushed, her eyes much too shiny. They were large in her face and her lip pouted invitingly.

The crowd was moving in closer, more and more fae joining the fray, and the sounds of music, and moaning, and laughter escalated. Sarah inched closer to Jareth, but eventually it was near impossible not to feel the regular brush of arm here or there as preoccupied fae mongrels moved in around her. She regarded several touches as intentional, a flirtatious hand twirling at a lock of she or Jareth's hair, a light grazing of fingers against _his _arm. She wasn't sure how she felt about that. She wasn't sure...she wasn't sure because she was high.

"Hey," Jareth said, and turned her face back to him. She was looking a little panicked. "You're with me," he said, and she knew from his tone he'd meant it reassuringly. That was, until his eyes lowered to her mouth. "Only me," he added, and raised a hand to graze a thumb across her bottom lip. His gaze had become misty, possessive, and in the heat and the humidity, under a dark golden hue and the low thrumming of the room, it was a look more dangerous and beguiling than she was equipped to handle. She looked away and smiled bashfully, which to her registered as an overly girlish and stupid reaction to have. She had a sneaking feeling this stupor was getting the better of her and Jareth was in full advantage of it. Oh well. This was exactly what she'd been asking for.

* * *

Davion clapped a hand against Roldan's back as Sarah's dancing became more and more provocative. He was thrilled. There was no way Jareth had told her what such a display would incite, and he reveled in all the delectable possibilities that were now being laid at his feet. His courtesans had begun to move, to join her game, and soon all of them, every single one, had given themselves to the drum. Roldan however stood as rigid as a statue.

"Ah-hah! Would you look at that! Roldan did you see her just now?" He was ecstatic. Elated. Incredibly turned on. He turned to Roldan with a smile akin to awe. "The way she was moving. _Mm_. I envy my brother now, truly. That body. Those breasts? Th-"

"You forget yourself, Davion," Roldan interjected, and he was apparently angry. Davion bit his tongue, still smiling.

"Do I?"

"She is still your Queen. You would do well not to disrespect her with your vulgarity." He was glaring from the corner of his eye, plainly unimpressed with Davion's instigations. Hm. Maybe he'd have to try a little harder.

"Readily standing to her defense already?" he teased, his smile curling a little more. "You were watching though, weren't you?" Davion's voice was lower now,_ slightly_ more serious. Roldan didn't answer, simply resituating himself against the wall. Davion wondered why he still bothered with him and hadn't yet joined the fun. "She moved like a natural born Jejuan," he continued. "What are the odds? I say, if she was a thing I was forced to spend my days in and out with, I'm sure even I would find myself quite frustrated."

"Her appearance isn't what's frustrating."

Oh. Now there was a response. Davion chuckled and straightened up.

"No. It's her tongue."

* * *

Jareth kept a possessive hold on Sarah's body as they danced. Passersby would try to join, from time to time, but he was quick enough to deny them. Sarah had shown insecurity in adding another partner, and she'd already outdone herself for one night. Besides, he wanted her all to himself. He wanted to feel, and taste, and smell her. She was sweating, a slick sheen rendering her arms, her legs, and her cheeks with a mouthwatering shine. Her makeup had started to run, making her eyes smoky and brazen. The ambient light made her glow, her body warm and honeyed.

He wanted to ravage her. He wanted to take her there on the floor like a dog. The atmosphere certainly called for it. Several bodies had already taken to such action, though he didn't think she'd yet noticed.

His hands ran up her thighs, under her skirts, and teased just below her ass. She would shoo him away but always came back. Her hands against his bare arms were hot and full of command. He imagined she felt the same way he did, from the way she would lower her gaze and pant between breaths.

Feeling the impulse, he hoisted her up suddenly and wrapped her legs around his waist.

His arms snaked around her, one hand splayed over her back while the other fisted in her hair. He looked up, pulled her down, and kissed her. Kissed her messily, boldly, and she clawed her hands around the sides of his face, returning the gesture. There was much cheering from the crowd, hollars of encouragement and other such provocations. He then moved to hold her by the ass and smiled as she pulled her mouth away from him. She was making a marvelous first impression. Just marvelous.

"Well that was dramatic," she said, laughing softly. He looked so handsome right now. So happy. She loved him like this. Loved that she could bring herself to be like this for him. She was worried he might pressure her into something but that was never the case. If anything, it probably wouldn't be that hard for her to pressure him. The thought renewed her smile and she kissed him again. "Are you enjoying yourself?"

"I'm meant to ask you that," he replied, nipping at her neck. She smelled delicious. If he didn't control himself he might end up actually biting her.

"I am. And I've got a feeling you are too." He grinned and pulled back to look at her.

"Really? A Feeling?" She was obviously referring to the bulge pressed against her sex as she clung her legs around his hips, though he chose to play coy. She leaned down to him and whispered seductively in his ear,

"Shall we call it a night then?" When she pulled back her gaze was full of suggestion.

"Indeed."

Jareth released her and took her hand, and she giggled as he turned and led her through the crowd. Bodies dispersed but not readily, leaving the two of them to muddle through, and over, trampling gown and limb alike. A few hands reached out to paw at them, inviting them to join, and while witnessing this level of debauchery up close startled Sarah it only had Jareth grinning even more salaciously. He looked perfectly in his element, leaving Sarah to briefly wonder if he had ever been with any of them before. She was bound to run into one of his past exploits...maybe it would be better to remain ignorant.

While she had assumed Jareth would lead her to the door they'd entered from, he instead led them back towards their table. The music was lulled there, with fewer people. There was a servant door tucked into the corner, one she hadn't seen. He opened it and ushered her into the hall.

Now that her eyes had time to adjust, the hall seemed brighter this time around. She took a step away from Jareth as he closed the door behind him, wondering why he hadn't simply poofed them to their room.

It was quieter out here. Easier to breathe.

She turned to glance at Jareth just as the hand that gripped hers tightened and yanked her towards him. She hit him with an _'oof'_ but otherwise recovered as he kissed her again. He smiled as he did so and closed his eyes; it was a look that creased his face with those distinct little lines that made him all the more beautiful. Her hands were gripping the collar of his shirt for balance, and her legs went limp as he suddenly twirled her and slammed her back against a wall.

Sarah gasped, not quite expecting that. His attentions were growing in hunger and she felt not the slightest inclination to deny him. An arm lowered to clutch tightly around her lower back, pushing her pelvis into his. His free hand pressed up her side, groping her breast before holding her at the neck.

She wondered what they must look like, if someone was perhaps watching them from the end of the hall. The worry which usually accompanied this self-awareness failed to reach her however. She attributed that to the berry too.

"Jareth-" she gasped, holding on to the back of his neck when he reached down and lifted her. His face was biting at her bosom, and his hands spread her legs and anchored them around his hips.

She was more aware now of the wall against her back, of the pressure on her spine that twinged every time he ground himself against her. She breathed in rhythm with it, dug her fingers into his hair, and looked up to the ceiling to catch her breath.

"What if-what if someone sees?" she asked. She sounded worried but the emotion wasn't really there. She looked to the end of the hall and found it vacant. They, and their sounds, were the only things there.

Jareth undid his belt and unclasped the fly of his pants, and then raised his hands to grip her face.

"Then we tell them to leave," he said, turning her attention back to him and giving her a hot, heart-pounding kiss. She noticed his eyes were glazed over, like he was staring through her, and she realized he was just as much affected by the edible as she was. Well that was reassuring. Maybe.

She felt his hands go back to her thighs, felt them splay widely and greedily, and pushed up her skirts. She felt hot again, the heat from his breath making beads of sweat run down her cleavage. His mouth was searing against her neck and she moaned compulsively when his fingers thrust inside her.

She inched higher up the wall, her voice rising in pitch as her knees clung to him. She was already hot and wet, and her body took him eagerly. She arched her head back against the wall and held onto his shoulders. He held his hand pressed firmly against her and moved his fingers in a subtle, deep gesture. She felt her mouth water with the desire to devour him, to take him in her mouth and in her cunt and anywhere else he felt so inclined.

Sensing her urgency, he withdrew his hand and positioned himself to enter her. He penetrated her easily, his taut erection stretching and filling, and left her with an even greater wanting. She moved her hips into him, clutched his head to her chest while he held her by the ass and thrusted into her over and over. She felt wanton. She was wanton. She was being exactly who she wanted to be. The idea of someone sneaking up on them terrified and enthralled her. She felt controlled and poised and anything but inferior.

She was moaning without restraint and Jareth responded in kind. He pulled her hips to meet each thrust and followed her when she instinctively inched up the wall. He wanted her to feel all of him and offered no mercy for the slight pain that might have caused.

Suddenly he felt her hands leave him as she braced against the wall. She pushed off of it, which had him staggering back a step.

"Get down. Now," she said, and he obeyed instinctively. He lowered them to his knees and let her ride astride him as she pushed his chest until he laid back against the floor. She leaned up over him and placed both hands against his sternum for support. Jareth's hands went to her hips and he rolled his own head back when she began forcing unto him an equally merciless undultation.

Sarah bit her lip and reached back to pull the hair away from her neck. It was too damned hot to be wedged against the wall like that. Jareth reached up and took hold of the hem of her bodice, then yanked her down to his level sharply. She smiled at him, their noses brushing as they moved.

And then they heard footsteps.

Sarah stopped completely and straightened up. Her head darted to the left, to the end of the hall, where three fae ladies were just rounding the corner.

Her hands were pressed against Jareth's chest and her knees protruded from the discretion of her skirt as she sat straddling his hips. All sets of eyes locked immediately, and the women stopped dead in their tracks.

Oh my, what ever would Sarah do? Jareth mused.

He too turned his gaze towards the women, though his posture was considerably more relaxed and a naughty little smile seared his face.

Sarah stared at them and realized, much to her relief, that they were not laughing at her as she'd expected. No, if anything they looked afraid. She remembered in that moment that she was The Queen. Fae or not, she could have them all bogged.

"Well? Go on then," she said, waving them off like a litter of lost puppies. The women blinked, bowed deeply, and scurried off. Sarah laughed to herself. That felt really good. She turned her attention back to Jareth. He was already smiling at her, wryly.

"See. I told you, you'd make a good Queen."

* * *

Davion stood with his back slouched against the wall. He had been quiet for a moment, surveying the room as his thoughts drifted from him. As much as he enjoyed these festivities, after a while even he found it desensitizing. Maybe that was why he was still just standing there, impervious to the glower now radiating heavily from Roldan. He was wishing for him to leave, Davion mused. Well, no one was stopping Roldan from doing the same. His eyes landed on Mariella briefly. She was laughing with a band of friends across the room. She looked happy. It was something he was surprised to have missed.

His attention was drawn however by the sound of the main doors opening. He peered over, saw a few of his ladies scuttling through with very wild and fevered looks on their faces. Now that didn't happen often. They were smiling and held hands over their mouths as they spoke to each other in a hushed tone. There was something curious about it. His eyes went from them, to the door, to the other end of the room where he knew that hallway led and…

"Oh my," Davion said, his imminent boredom leaving as a new smile stretched his face. He rolled his head to Roldan, who only sighed in aggravation that he was being spoken to once again. There was an allure to Davion's words, something Roldan knew he would be better off ignoring. He failed.

"What?" Roldan asked. Davion's arm wrapped around Roldan's shoulders and he slinked against him again. His head was lowered, hovering over Roldan's chest, at just the perfect angle to draw his gaze as he reached up and dabbed a sensual finger against his lip before pointing to the door on the far side of the room.

"I do believe...my brother and sister are currently fucking in that hall way. Say, shall we take a peek?" He laughed as an unwarranted level of tension had Roldan recoiling immediately, leaving him to stagger to his feet as Roldan shoved himself free and took a step away.

"Mind yourself," Roldan growled. He wanted to storm away but had nowhere to go. The castle was littered with Davion's drunken whores and he doubted his room was any safer.

Davion started chuckling and raised his hands appeasingly.

"My, so uptight! One would think if they minded an audience, they would have gone some place more private?" he said. Roldan was shaking his head, angered and disgusted.

"You're getting ahead of yourself. You have no reason to even think that is where they are or what they are doing." Davion shrugged, swaying with a dangerous air Roldan hadn't yet noticed.

"You're right. I don't," he said, then licked the backs of his teeth as he glanced away. "But I intend to find out nonetheless, with or without you…" He pointed a mocking finger at Roldan before turning on his heel. Without thinking, Roldan reached out and took hold of his arm, firmly.

"Davion-"

There was a pause, Davion's posture unchanging as a terrible, wicked grin lit up his face. He turned back to Roldan slowly, saw the look of regret etched in his face, before looking down to the hand he still held around his arm. There was now a pointed look in Davion's eye and his brow rose accordingly.

"Roldan, I think it is now you who is getting ahead of yourself."

Roldan tensed and swallowed hard. Davion's tone had dropped significantly, his glare challenging and eager for it. Roldan released his arm and composed himself. He should not have done that. Davion was still a prince.

Davion straightened with a new aura about him, one Roldan knew better than to engage with. He was like his brother in far too many ways. Only, Davion seemed to enjoy it more. He was about to say something when a sudden burst of laughter caught them both by surprise.

"Ah! Gwyneth, you are simply too much! But I must! I must!" Mariella turned with a wave of the hand. She was smiling, her cheeks rosy and her eyelids barely able to lift themselves. She'd been approaching the two, oblivious to their tension, though her careless bawl had thankfully shredded it. Roldan took a step back as she staggered to the space between them. Davion's smile fell to a grin, and though his eyes found new interest in her, Roldan doubted his outburst had been so easily forgotten. "My dear lords!" she cheered, too loudly, and leaned forward to grasp Davion's arm. He braced for her, allowing herself to regain balance. "Forgive me, but have you seen Sarah? I seem to have lost my Queen!" She was laughing again, totally ignorant to her surroundings. Roldan cleared his throat. He'd have to remember to thank Mariella for this later.

"I believe she and Jareth have retired for the night," he said, shooting Davion a stern eye. Oh, how audacious. Even now he was still challenging him? Davion chose to let this act of impertinence go however. He had enough punishment lined up for the fool in the night ahead.

Mariella frowned deeply and turned to look all around the room.

"Have they really? Oh dear, I should have noticed," she said, tapping her lip with an anxious finger. "Well, I suppose I must be off then. Goodnight, gentlemen," she said, dipping her head and turning to leave without a second thought. Davion caught her by the arm and pulled her back.

"Leaving so soon? I don't think Sarah would mind if you stayed a bit longer," he said, the usual playfulness returning to his voice. Roldan took in a steady breath, realizing just how close he'd come to discipline. Why had he done that? What in the world possessed him to lay a hand on him like that? The thought of Sarah...of he and Sarah, and Jareth, and...No. No, he didn't need to be thinking about any of that.

Mariella swayed as she pondered the offer.

"Mmm...No, I don't think she would mind either. However, I am a Queen's Maiden. I cannot simply prance around as I wish. If My Lady has taken to bed, then so must I." She sounded resolute and not the least bit disappointed. Davion released her effortlessly.

"Well, she has certainly taken to something," he mumbled, before locking his arm with hers. "But if that is your wish, then please allow me to escort you to your room."

"Oh, how generous of you My Lord," she said, grinning, and turned the look back to Roldan.

"Goodnight, Master Roldan!" she said. Roldan nodded, trying his best to ignore the shrewd backward glance Davion threw over his shoulder.

"Yes...have a good night." Davion's tone was much more clipped, though not without amusement. Then he leaned back a little further, so only Roldan could hear. "And a word of advice my friend? Embrace your fetishes. You'll live a much healthier life that way." He turned back to Mariella and smiled down to her, all traces of annoyance vanishing in an instant. He utterly ignored Roldan after that, leading Mariella away and then dipped down to whisper in her ear, "I think it's time we had a bit of fun ourselves, eh?" Mariella giggled and skipped a little faster. Oh, how she adored him.

* * *

Roldan stood alone, finally, although with much dismay. He let out a long breath and relaxed his shoulders. Perhaps Davion really had brushed off the indiscretion. He wondered then why he had stayed so long and allowed Jareth's brother to rile him so. He thought maybe he was being stoic, occupying all of Davion's attention while Sarah and Jareth were free to enjoy the night, though even he knew there was little truth to that. He was not so selfless.

Against his instincts, Davion's words continued to crawl through his head and images of Sarah, hot and humming, sizzled out of his mind just as soon as they appeared. He was trying to rattle him, obviously, but why it was so easy for him to do so, Roldan didn't know. He spent the majority of his time detesting Sarah. And yet-

His eyes briefly wandered to the door in question, the one Davion had suggested they were fornicating behind, and he found himself….no. No. He would not for even one minute allow himself to imagine them in such a way.

He turned on a dime and left the room. None of his superiors were here anymore. There was nothing keeping him.

He found himself being shoved as compromised persons fumbled and tumbled past him. Hands were being led and doors were promptly shut. He ignored it. Such was the norm in these parts.

He made his way to his room. The same room he always stayed in when visiting this place. It was farther away than the rest, on the edge of the dormitories, and he was for some reason thankful to be so far away from Jareth. He'd been feeling awkward around him lately. Ashamed in a manner he'd long since forgotten.

Another image of Sarah flashed behind his eyes, red frills and sodden lace. Bright smokey eyes and…

He gripped the handle to the door fiercely, wondering if he really would be better off spending the night in a snowbank. He thought of her wedding night then. Of the way he found himself stricken dumb. Then he thought of Jareth, and the warning he'd been given at her fitting… He scowled and shook his head. He was being stupid.

It was then that a noise distracted him, a faint shuffling of sorts from within the room. He knew who was there. Davion had made that much clear.

He opened the door and stepped inside. His head had been lowered, but when it rose he found himself frozen. His hand, still gripping the handle of the door, trembled and then jerked it shut behind him abruptly. His eyes went wide and his mouth went dry as panic, utter panic, shot through him.

"...Sarah?"

There was a woman on his bed, placed directly in front of him. She was poised facing away from him with her legs bent, her sheer negligee ruffled up past her thighs and a delicate hand dipping between them. Her gown was ill-fitted and hung wantonly off one shoulder. Her face was turned away, dark, raven-colored hair obscuring her profile from him. He stood and stared in utter shock, until she turned and looked at him. Her bright eyes and face pierced him, though as uncanny as it was, he realized pitifully, how deplorable his own reaction had been. This was not Sarah. Of course it wasn't fucking Sarah.

"Where is Candela?" he asked, nearly growling as he did so. He had expected_ her_ to be waiting but this…

"Don't worry. I'm here." His expression hardened with anger as another figure emerged. He looked over reflexively, realizing Candela had been there all along. She was pouring them drinks, her long nightgown swaying gracefully as she stepped around the table to the left of the bed. Roldan felt his jaw tensing. He should just leave. Right now.

Candela approached him effortlessly, and he tried to keep his eyes on her and not the doppelganger still reposed silently on his bed. She smiled, stepping close to him, and reached out to place her hands flat against his chest. He stood rigidly, his scowl never more intense.

"I've missed you," she said, tilting her head meekly as she fluttered her lashes. Her eyes were a deep grey. They reminded him of the ocean after a storm. He stared into them, trying, much too aggressively, to abate his own tension. If Jareth saw them right now…

"It hasn't been that long," he said, trying not to fist his hands as she ran her own languidly down his front. It was only a couple months since he'd last been here -though that stay had been cut short. He shook his head subtly. No. He did not regret leaving her.

"I know. T'is a real treat," she said. She had a delicate voice, light and smooth. She spoke softly at all times and had a way of carrying herself that usually melted him on the spot. Not tonight however. Tonight her touch was like hot iron.

"What is the meaning of this?" he asked and begrudgingly gave in to dart his gaze towards the bed. "...of _her._" In that moment he allowed himself to spy on her. She had yet to speak but had turned towards them slightly. Her eyes were wide, her expression expectant. She looked young. Very young. And she played with a lock of hair almost nervously as she watched them.

"Lord Davion says your tastes may be evolving," Candela said, calling back his attention. She stepped away from him and reached out for the girl. Their hands met and she stepped off the bed to present herself before him. She took a few steps, her head lowered in deference. Only once she stood directly before him did Candela release her hand. The girl looked up and met his gaze brazenly. "This is Serena," Candela said, gesturing towards her as if her name had any relevance at all. Roldan stared down at her, at her large, beaming eyes. They were hazel, green with prominent flecks of gold. He did not admire them at all.

"And she is here because…?" He glared sharply at Candela. Though she may act it, she was by no means naive. He didn't appreciate her handling him in this manner.

"Lord Davion implied you might enjoy both our company tonight." He caught Candela's hands lower to Serena's arms possessively and he sneered in disgust. The girl was meek, standing and staring shamelessly without uttering so much as a single word. His eyes rose and fell over her quickly. She was about the same height as Sarah, shared the same complexion, hair, and general bone structure. He tried to ignore it, but the fabric of her gown left little to the imagination, and his mind's eye remarked, quite astutely, that she seemed to possess the same curvaceous shape as Sarah as well. He looked away and curled his lip in distaste. Of all the boorish stunts for Davion to pull…

"Your Lord presumes too much, Candela," Roldan said, a deep ire lacing his words. Candela, completely unfazed, gave a slight shrug and stepped away.

"I'll let you two get better acquainted," she said. Roldan watched her closely as she walked away, as the light from the wall behind her silhouetted her figure within her dress. She was a very slight woman, gentle curves and narrow joints. Her long golden hair fell in tussled tumbles, and she reached back to ruffle it in a manner she knew he liked. He wasn't quite paying attention when Serena stepped closer towards him.

"You're more handsome than I thought you'd be," she said, dryly. He turned back to face her just as her hand grazed down the length of his chest. His eyes followed it, catching on the delicate lines of her fingers.

He grabbed her hand and held it away from him.

"I think you need to leave," he said, and was almost caught off guard by the look of near-genuine hurt in her eyes. She inched back, glancing over to Candela nervously. He thought then she must be new to Davion's court, her physical appearance perhaps a more accurate reflection of her age.

"Oh Master Roldan, how rude." He looked over to Candela as well to find her scolding him, her brow twisted in a slight look of disapproval. "I urge you to reconsider, lest you insult her," she added, confident enough in her hold over him not to put up with any of his griping. Lord Davion had given her strict instructions after all, and it wasn't very often she got to share her little pet. Roldan hesitated. Candela's look was drawn in a faint scowl, a chiding expression that never sat well with him. At a distance the resemblance was truly remarkable. Maybe that was why he always held her close.

"Am I not to your liking?"

Roldan tore his eyes away from Candela and brought them back to the girl. She was frowning at him, apparently at a loss that he would reject her, without even the faintest idea why. He pitied her. There was a naivety about her that didn't match her uncanny resemblance. Her lips worried under her teeth and the hand that once touched him pulled back from his grasp to press against her sternum. She seemed genuinely affected. Perhaps this was a test then? A trial for the poor girl before she would be accepted into Davion's court? That line of thinking repulsed him further.

"You have no obligation to be here. If you want to leave, I will not say a foul word otherwise," he said, expecting to see a wave of relief wash over her. Instead her brow only furrowed more.

"Why would I want to leave you?"

He was caught off guard by her tone, by that wide look of longing she continued to project at him. He tried, terribly, to look away from her, but something disgusting had rooted him in place. Davion's words haunted him once more, forbidden enticements that hand him tensing in frustration. Again, images of Sarah's dance came unwelcomed to the forefront of his mind: her breathy smile, her bared legs, the trails of sweat that lured every gaze in the room down the entirety of her body's contour. Hands that were not his held her and touched her without reservation. He did not want her. He did not envy Jareth.

Yet this girl's face had sent him reeling. Not because of how much she resembled her, but because of all the subtle details that made them different. He was angry because this woman looked so much like Sarah. He was angrier because she did not resemble her enough.

He hated Davion for placing him at the mercy of such temptation, but he hated himself more. And then Jareth's own words rang through, telling him he did not care for whatever feelings he may have for Sarah, so long as he owned up to it. _Flog yourself to your heart's content. _He'd told himself he had no feelings for Sarah. None that were good. Then again, nothing about his current situation was _good_ either.

He was lost in this dangerous train of thought when he felt hands on him again. He flinched back, turning his head sharply as Candela reached around him from behind. Their eyes met briefly, and then hers lowered as she kissed his neck. He arched to it on reflex and loathed himself all the more. He closed his eyes and the memory of Sarah's own arms wrapping around him in the hall that day sent a shiver down his spine. He was trying to forget that, to forget how comforting her touch had felt.

She continued to leave light little kisses along his neck. He may be resigning himself from Serena, but Candela knew her touch was something he very rarely objected to.

"Don't worry," she whispered to him, seductively. "Davion is most discreet. Nothing to fear." She spoke softly, in a high feminine pitch, and let her eyes peer to Serena the moment she felt him become distracted by it. She had been meeting with Roldan for many decades now, and over such an expanse of time had learned to maneuver him in all the right ways. He was often resistant in the beginning, but it made what later ensued all the more enjoyable. She had no idea why Davion had chosen her for this task all those years ago, why he always insisted she keep her hair down, and curled, and perfectly blonde, why they always met in secret on the nights he came to stay for the review. She did not ask for the answer to any of these questions however. She did not mind being shared, and it kept her useful to Davion over the centuries as many other courtesans came and went. Besides, she genuinely enjoyed Roldan. He was a mercurial man indeed, but not without vigor. She knew she reminded him of someone. Apparently, Serena did as well.

Candela's eyes on Serena were met with understanding. The girl reached out and began to untie the front of Roldan's shirt. Davion had told her to play the innocent, to be ever-so-demure and even inexperienced, while she was anything but. And it was obvious it had caught Roldan off guard. He looked down to her, with that same intensity that almost gave her pause. However this time he did not stop her; he merely watched as she separated the tassles and brought the tips of her fingers to the flesh beneath. He felt Candela's hands roaming over him, and he inhaled slowly when those same fingers gingerly pushed open the halves of his shirt to hang from his shoulders. Serena thought he looked like he might combust at any moment. That, or pounce.

Serena tore her eyes from his and lowered them over his torso. He looked angry and she had been warned he probably would be. She was also told to disregard this completely. She did not hesitate at his anger. She'd been a courtesan for several centuries and knew how to handle men like him.

She reached out again and undid the remaining ties leading down his stomach. Again, he was motionless, simply letting himself be touched. Candela nipped on his neck a little harder now. She could tell he was becoming aroused, whether he chose to act on it or not. The pulse in his neck beat faster beneath her lips and his gaze, which she spied on from her peripheral, was glued, searingly, to Serena.

Serena's hands made quick work of the knots and gave way as Candela's pulled the hem of his shirt from his pants. His teeth gritted when the young girl's hands rose and gently pushed his shirt down and off his arms. He was just standing there. Every fiber of his being was screaming how wrong this was, what would befall him should Jareth or even Sarah learn of it. Yet here he was, becoming increasingly bothered by a woman who looked up at him in a way Sarah never had, whose long dark tresses just barely covered her breasts as her nightgown slowly inched down her arms…

She reached out to touch him again, to place her palms flat against the hard muscle of his stomach, and feel her way up. Her touch angered him with its tenderness, with how careful she was being. He bit his tongue as Davion's final words chimed through his thoughts. _Embrace your fetishes_, he'd said. He almost laughed. Sarah was hot-blooded. Aggressive. This woman before him made a poor rendition.

She leaned in to plant a kiss against the center of his chest. Candela was distracting him well with expert touches, but not even the faint waft of pheromones he smelled in the air was enough to dissuade him from reaching out and grasping her by the shoulder.

He reached with both hands and held Serena firmly. She looked up to him, and for a moment he thought he'd won. He thought he'd conquered his own dark urges for just long enough to send the two of them away. However...as his eyes left hers, as they traveled down her face and neck, over her bare shoulders and the darkened peaks of her nipples that showed through her barely-there nightgown, he felt...nothing. No guilt. No shame. Nothing. His thumbs pressed into her as his hands reluctantly ran along her skin and, silently, he began to push down the hem of her gown ever-so-slowly, watching as it just barely clung to her.

She lowered her arms and it fell to the floor. Candela had paused, watching from over his shoulder eagerly. There was still firm tension about him, yet the blaze in his eyes was something more familiar to her. He was close to breaking, deeply troubled over his desire in a way she remembered all too well.

He leaned in, away from Candela's grasp, and closed his eyes as he smelled her. He felt her hair brush against his cheek, the soft delicate flesh of her neck grazing his nose. She smelled sweet, of perfume, and wine, and pheromones. Suddenly he was in the hall again, embracing his best friend's wife and inhaling of her deeply. She smelled nothing like this woman. This was wrong.

He flinched at the feeling of Candela unbuttoning his pants. The sound was louder than it should have been and he opened his eyes fractionally as the compulsion to tear himself away became disturbingly distant. Was he really such a creature? So easily corrupted by the wiles of these women who were not his? Of the ghosts he saw in their eyes... With a scowl he closed his eyes again, not fighting Candela's efforts in the slightest. Serena leaned forward and kissed his torso, her mouth hot and open against his chest, and darted her tongue out boldly to lick in a slow circle. It startled him but his only reaction was a sharp breath. His hands still held her by the arms, contended over the desire to touch her elsewhere.

He lowered slightly, holding his head against her shoulder as he warred within himself. The woman who was definitely _not Sarah_ was touching him again, feeling her way along his abdominals with such delicacy. He was gripping her tightly, and he grimaced as he turned his head and lightly ran his tongue along her neck. Would it really be so bad to pretend...just once…?

Candela smiled from her all-too-perfect vantage. Roldan was an angry man, a weak man, a man who broke under his own constraints. Seducing him had always been easy, but even this was surprising to her. He was fighting himself, but not as fiercely as he could be. He wanted this woman. Badly. And she grinned in wicked delight over her Lord's twisted sense of humor. She'd caught a glimpse of the Queen before sequestering herself in this room. It was surely no coincidence how similar they looked.

She could feel a new bout of hesitation move through him and pulled herself from her musing. She reached down, beneath the confines of his pants, and began working him. He groaned reflexively and jerked, though again made no effort to stop her. He was already hard in her hand, and she kissed the back of his shoulder before leaning up on her toes to whisper in his ear,

"Shall I watch you take her first? Or will you watch us take each other?"

Roldan nearly balked at her words, pulling him from the moment just as much as they thrust him into it. He felt Serena's hand at his cheek, urging him up. He obliged and straightened as she left a new trail of kisses up his neck. Both mouths were on him, Candela's hand working him lower in a slow but firm rhythm. He looked up, his eyes still closed in a grimace, and released Serena's shoulders. Four hands roamed him as two mouths bit, and licked, and teased, and he tried with every fiber of his being to see nothing but blackness behind his eyelids.

A heavy breath escaped him and his chest heaved. He exhaled hard through his nose and looked down, giving in to open his eyes and witness them. The dark haired maiden rose to her toes and leaned past him. His eyes followed, watching with a deep-seeded lust as the two women kissed and nipped at each other just out of his reach. He didn't realize Serena had taken over for Candela's hand, but was made all too aware once the blonde left and stepped around him. She eyed him hungrily, moving to stand behind Serena and ensure his eyes got a good look at her nude figure. She reached up and brushed the hair that had fallen over Serena's shoulder and planted on it a lingering kiss.

Roldan closed his eyes again as the feeling of this beautiful, destructive, entirely-unwelcome girl touching him snapped the last semblance of his restraint. He ground his teeth, angry that he was showing so much consideration towards his tormentors. His thoughts turned bitter, selfish, and a desperate, suffocated need overtook him. Jareth would kill him if he found out. But...Jareth wasn't here right now. Candela knew this look and backed away from the two of them slowly.

In a moment of spiteful abandon, Roldan reached down and hoisted the girl up in the air. She gasped but wrapped her legs around him readily and clung her hands to the back of his neck. He was very strong, very built, his thick arms flexing as he carried her the few paces to the bed.

He dropped her to the mattress and was no sooner pressing himself against her as his knees spread her legs further apart. He kept his eyes closed, kept his face below hers in shame, and kissed and bit at her chest messily. Candela sat back in a nearby chair. She'd never gotten to watch before. She found the sight of him enticing -a sheen of sweat glistening the thick muscles of his arms and back, the way his black hair curled under the humidity. He was so impassioned he hadn't even bothered removing the rest of his clothes. Was this what he looked like when they were together? She appreciated him a little more now. She was keen to let him have his way for a while longer, however. Davion had insisted on it.

He heard light moans and breathy pleads escape the mouth above him, but it only had him scowling harder. Their voices did not sound the same and he hated that he could not stop himself from making the comparison. She was clawing her arms around his back, pressing down in encouragement as he ground into her. She was soft, and pale, and filled his greedy hands. Her hips, her breasts, her narrow waist, he reveled in it all. He reveled in her taste and the color of her hair and how easy it was to forget himself. He reached down and thrust his fingers inside her without consideration. She moaned, squirming away from him as he worked her deeply. She felt tight around him, but wet and hot and greedy as a good courtesan should. Her body pulled him into her and he fucked her with his hands, panting roughly as desire made his manner more aggressive.

He released himself from his pants and thrust into her, hard.

She moaned again, this time her voice rising an octave in genuine surprise. He buried his face in her neck and let the sounds envelope him. Her breathing was quick and strained under the harsh pace he set. His hands held her hips, pinning her down as he arched deftly. He was so angry. So ungodly angry. He felt humiliated and deplorable, without honor and altogether alive. He'd been so stressed since Sarah had come to the Underground. He'd hated and resented and yearned, and it was like all of those feelings were culminating to this pitiful, wretched moment. Everyone looked down on him. All they did was mock.

He wanted to feel someone writhe. He wanted to hear someone moan. He wanted to feel lost and at ease, and touched by hands that knew how he suffered. He did not envy Jareth. He did not want Sarah. Even as he watched her dance with eyes unblinking, as he watched her, motionless and beside himself with Davion chiming in his ear, he did not want her. He told himself this over and over.

It didn't matter. Even if the thoughts were negative, even if they were bitter and scouring for fault, they were all still about_ her_. And the image refused to leave, her eyes behind his own refused to leave. He remembered the way she'd felt when they danced, when they'd practiced and she'd tumbled and he'd caught her by the waist. No. It meant nothing. But even as he thought this, as he shamed himself, over and over, and scowled tighter -he fucked her harder still.

He'd pulled back to take a breath, to kiss along her jaw and feel her wetted lips with his thumb, when she suddenly turned towards him. Her eyelids were wilting and her breath was heavy, and she brought her hands to the sides of his face as she attempted to kiss him. Roldan's hand darted up instantly and took hold of her face. He held her in place, held her so he could not see her eyes as he bit the corner of her jaw. When he turned her face away from him she gasped and moaned, calling out his name in a way that deeply unsettled him.

"_Oh, Master Roldan,"_ she'd said. And it nearly made him cringe. Another wave of disgust hit him in response to his own reaction. _She_ never called him that. _She_ was too impertinent. He loathed the foul taste that hearing her say his proper title had put in his mouth, for he would rather she had called him as_ she _did. He shook his head into the crook of her neck as he gripped her thighs harder. He was trying so fucking hard not to think of_ her_.

Feeling even more frustrated, he leaned up off of her and grabbed her by the hips, averting his eyes from hers as he flipped her into her stomach. He pulled her ass up to him and crouched over her to fist a hand in the hair at the nape of her neck. He took her again roughly, holding her face pinned away from him and leaving her voice muffled as he did so. He found it was easier to disconnect in this position, easier to clear his thoughts, and rolled his head back as the sight of her ass and his dick slamming in and out of her brought him close to climax-

"My, Master Roldan, it's as if you've forgotten me entirely."

He was jerked back to attention at the sound of Candela's voice in his ear. He turned towards her fractionally and she kissed him before he had the chance to avert it. This time he gave in to it, closed his eyes and kissed her deeply. She was familiar to him, a shame he'd resigned himself to a long time ago. His impending orgasm faded as he leaned up, holding Candela's face close to his as he continued to thrust deeply into Serena over and over. Candela reached down and gripped the base of his cock, squeezed tightly, and jerked him as he moved in and out of the poor girl beneath him. He moaned roughly, bitterly, and gave himself to her caress.

* * *

Sarah stared at the walls around her as she ran her fingers along Jareth's bare chest. They were back in their room and the quiet was close to unnerving. There was a faint ringing in her ears, though she wasn't unsure if it was from the volume of the music or another effect of the berry.

After their romp in the hallway, Jareth had deigned to return them here, where he was all too eager to have a truly nasty way with her. It seemed the public exposure had aroused them both, as they crashed from the bed, to the floor, to the chair and back again. She had no idea what time it was, only that her stupor had started to fade and her eyelids were heavy with the desire to sleep.

She smiled as she laid her head against him, watching the subtle rhythm of his breath as it moved his chest. He held an arm tightly around her, his hand still hot from their exertions. With new lucidity, she wondered what everyone else was up to, if they were still up and partying or had long since passed out. She imagined Marie spending her night with Davion, and possibly others. Roldan, well, he'd probably locked himself in a closet.

She snuggled closer to Jareth and ran the tip of her finger down his abdomen.

"Did I do alright tonight?" she asked. Jareth's chest rose a little higher as he took in a breath, like she'd woken him from a light sleep. His grip on her hip tightened.

"You did wonderful," he said, which had her grinning in spite of herself.

"So me inciting that orgy was a good thing?" she asked, losing confidence as she came down from her high. Jareth laughed, the sound reverberating deep in her ear as she held it pressed to his chest.

"Yes," he said, simply. Sarah thought to press him further but bit her lip instead.

"Well that's good. I was worried maybe I'd made a fool of myself." Their blanket was pooled at Jareth's hips, a little too low and a little too provocative. She eyed it with lingering attraction but knew they were both well spent for the night.

"Hardly," Jareth said, shifting as he positioned an arm behind his head. "I don't think I've ever enjoyed a visit to this place so much in my entire life."

While he'd meant it as a compliment, it had been registered to Sarah as something else entirely. She pursed her lips and laid her palm flat against his pec.

"Is your brother really that bad?" she asked and felt him shift again. It was a moment before he responded, and she felt the desire to look up to him to see what his expression was.

"Yes," he finally said, though she knew he was keeping something back. Giving in to the urge, she peered up to him. His expression was surprisingly detached.

"I think you have a soft spot for him," she said, which had him looking down at her with a grin.

"Do I?" he asked, sardonically. He was still smiling but she saw through it. She shifted up a little bit so she could watch him.

"Yes...He's the only person I've yet seen who acts and talks to you as if he knows nothing will happen. Like he already knows he's going to get away with it. I just feel...if he was anyone else, you would have put his head on a spike a long time ago," she said, watching his grin dull to a faint curl of the lips. He was staring up at the canopy covering their bed, and she wondered if he kept his gaze from her on purpose.

"Aside from you, you mean?" he asked, again with sarcasm. Sarah frowned a little.

"You seem to endure him more than anything. There are still moments when I know enough to be afraid of you. Davion seems carefree," she said, hoping her candor would urge him to take this more seriously. Jareth shot her an eye, debating whether or not to call her out on her supposed_ fear_ of him. Instead he shrugged and a faint sigh escaped him.

"I suppose then, you may be right," he admitted, to her honest surprise. He took another deep breath and turned his gaze back to the canopy. "He is afterall my brother. The only living family I have left. He infuriates me, but I've also spent the majority of my life protecting him, cleaning up his messes and making sure they did not turn into disasters." Sarah mulled this over carefully, knowing he was referring to the abuse they suffered at the hands of their father. She chose not to address that right now.

"Does he infuriate you perhaps because you are in fact disturbingly similar?" she asked, teasingly. Jareth smiled but it didn't reach his eyes.

"Is that so?" he asked, rhetorically. Sarah allowed herself a sly grin.

"Absolutely. The way he acted tonight was the same way you used to act when I first came here."

"I guess I should consider myself lucky then," he said, catching her a little off guard. His arm around her curled and lifted her to him. He glanced down and their eyes met. "Perhaps, rather than discipline, I should find my darling little brother a wife of his own." Now that was unexpected, though she figured out immediately that he was joking. She narrowed her eyes and scoffed.

"I don't think what he needs is as simple as a _wife_," she said, playfully.

"No. He needs someone to love so desperately that it tears at the very fiber of his being."

When she didn't immediately retort he peered down to her. She was staring up at him all wide-eyed as if abashed. He huffed through his nose and looked away with a chuckle. Her instinctive reaction to every one of his professions of love had been sheer panic. He might have been offended by it had he not deserved it.

Sarah, seeing the humor in his eyes, scowled and looked away. He was making fun of her, but over what she wasn't sure. He'd told her he loved her twice that day, several times all together, and never had she had the courage to say it back. Did she want to? Did she feel it? Yes. Undoubtedly yes. She wondered if her silence hurt him, but chose not to worry about that now. She didn't want to ruin their repose with something so somber.

"So you punish him too then? Even Davion?" she asked, curiosity getting the better of her.

"I have. In the past." He spoke dryly, clearly wanting her to move on to something else. She lowered her gaze and began to graze her fingers along his torso once more.

"I'm a little surprised," she said, distractedly. "I kind of expected more from him tonight, but he just up and disappeared after dinner."

"No he didn't. He was watching you, along with Roldan."

"Oh?" she said, curiously glancing up to him. He had a rather complacent look on his face, like the idea of other men openly longing for her brought him pride.

"I imagine you made quite the impression on the lot of them," he said, and from the subtle way his lips curled her suspicion was confirmed. She narrowed her eyes and bit her cheek.

"I doubt it."

"Don't underestimate yourself, love. Whatever you may have intended, you were not dancing only for me." To which she had no retort. That was definitely true.

"Great…" was all she could say, rolling her eyes away from him with a sigh. This wasn't giving her the same bolster of ego it clearly gave him.

"Yes. It was."

Sarah pursed her lips but couldn't stop the smile. She was glad he had enjoyed himself, having worried the night might have been ruined after Davion's performance. She thought of Jareth's singing then, of what it might sound like if he hummed her to sleep. The idea made her smile, and she clung to him a little tighter as she relaxed and drifted off in that dream.

* * *

Davion sat on the edge of the bed as he buttoned the fly of his pants. Mareilla, devastatingly unconscious, slept quietly behind him. It was nice having her here again, though he would have preferred she remained lively for just a bit longer. Apparently her tolerance for his charms was waning already, leaving her much too incoherent for his liking after merely an hour or so of their games. He let her sleep and found himself clicking his tongue as he mulled over his current state of boredom.

Rubbing a hand down his face, he inhaled deeply and conjured a handful of crystals. They twirled along his fingers and he stared into them absently. He thought to check in on Jareth and Sarah, but was unsurprised to find his efforts blocked. In the next crystal he spied on Roldan and found himself grinning. He was perhaps the most pitiful man he'd ever met. While he would love to reveal their dealings to Jareth, he'd much rather continue to hang these dirty secrets over his head. The King's advisor had become much more manageable that way.

The crystals continued to turn, and in each he spied on a different set of guests, contemplating whom he should choose to entertain. It was his duty to make sure everyone was well looked after. The sights he saw left him unfazed however. It seemed, all too recently, that his usual fancies had become tasteless. He heard Mariella sigh and he sagged again. The boredom was unbearable. Maybe he was just preoccupied. Maybe he should try checking in on Sarah again…

* * *

Sarah flinched and drew up her arms. She groaned, pulling her blanket towards her, and shifted away from the tickle at her back. It stopped and she relaxed, before the feeling landed on her again in a different spot. Now it was on her shoulder, tracing a delicate line that had her turning over to face it. She opened her eyes and they fluttered as the haze cleared. The touch was a hand. A hand which belonged to Davion.

Sarah's eyes widened and she drew back, scuttled to an upright position, and clung the blanket close to her throat.

"Davion? What the fuck?" She swore and glared, her chest rising dramatically from the burst of adrenaline. At first she'd thought it was Jareth, but those eyes. His eyes were distinctly different.

Davion grinned and sat upright with her. He however was less concerned with the blanket and left it to pool around his hips. Sarah's eyes darted up and down him frantically. He was shirtless.

"Hello. Took you long enough." There was a lightness to his voice, a sense of pleasantry that had no place in the situation. Sarah glared harder and looked all around the room.

"What are you talking about? Where the fuck are we?"

They were not in her and Jareth's room. In fact, Jareth was nowhere to be found. They sat on a bed tussled with mats of light pink sheets and the walls were draped in deep, heavily layered curtains of a darker hue. Davion's grin widened and she caught his tongue as it moved along his teeth.

"Where do you think?" he asked, and she took the moment to compose herself. She looked around once again but found no door. There was ambient light in the room but with no source. This place was familiar to her. She gripped her blanket tighter and realized...she too was undressed.

"This is a dream?" she half-asked, wondering what would be worse, that, or reality.

"Very good," Davion said, bouncing a finger at her as he leaned forward and repositioned himself. Sarah's eyes couldn't help but drop. The blanket moved lower and she saw...he was not wearing any pants either.

"Get out," Sarah demanded. She was outraged, near terrified, memories of Jareth's past dream-raping coming vividly to mind. Davion wouldn't dare, would he?

Davion shrugged.

"I will. When you mean it."

"What is that supposed to mean?" she asked with a snap. Davion tilted his head as he regarded her, a most predatory mannerism.

"Sarah, I would have thought you of all people would be well acquainted with dreamcasting by now," he said, to which Sarah scowled. Apparently, Jareth's late-night tendencies were not something unknown.

"I am," she stated, though with less conviction than she'd hoped. Where the fuck was Jareth? Was this even the real Davion?

"Then you know this is your space. You alone have the authority to make people come and go." He was teasing her and it only pissed her off more. She pressed her legs tightly together and glared away from him.

"If that were true then you wouldn't be here in the first place. Where is Jareth?"

"Oh, I imagine he'll show up any moment now," he said, the sly tone of his voice drawing back her attention against her will. "It wasn't easy, you know," he added, making sure to lock his gaze with hers. "He's got you warded so tightly I almost gave up. I honestly have no idea why I was able to sneak through this round. Although, I suppose perseverance is key."

Sarah's scowl renewed but she said nothing, leaving Davion to reflect with amusement over the fact. It'd taken five attempts to break into her subconscious. Jareth's wards were expertly crafted, but he was bored and had nothing better to do than chip away at them. This last attempt however was different. It was like they were suddenly exhausted, the magic that fueled them nulled. He'd have to question his brother about that later. But for now…

"Ah, speak of the devil," he said and held up a finger. "Three...two...one…" And then he pointed to his right. Sarah's eyes followed and immediately landed on Jareth. He was also shirtless, supposedly naked like the rest of them. He held his arms crossed over his chest and glowered viciously at Davion. "Oh, am I good or what!"

"Get. Out."

Jareth's voice was like venom, sending a nervous shiver up Sarah's spine. He looked even more pissed off than she and he didn't even bother to acknowledge her.

Davion pursed his lips at his brother playfully and looked away.

"No, I think I'll stay. That is unless Sarah has made up her mind?" He looked back to her expectantly and Jareth's gaze followed. She bit her tongue when he glared at her. What the fuck was he expecting her to do? She'd already told him to leave!

"Of course I've made up my mind. Get the fuck out." She spoke sternly but nothing happened. Davion started laughing, crossing his arms in a relaxed manner.

"See brother? I think she wants us to stay."

Sarah's eyes widened, outraged by his gall. She did not become the Goddamn Goblin Queen to have to put up with yet another maniacal psychopath invading her mind.

"Jareth, can't you make him leave?" she asked. His glare had gone back to Davion but now it peered at her as a side-eye. His arms were still crossed, his fingers gripping his biceps tightly in aggravation.

"Of course he can't," Davion chimed. "This is your dream, remember? Now that I'm here, not even he can force me out. That power resides solely with you."

Sarah impulsively threw up her arms but immediately lowered them to catch the blanket before it fell. Why the fuck were they all naked?!

"So. Get. Out!" she yelled. There was a slight rumble in the space around them, though it was less than intimidating. Davion laughed again. He turned to Jareth, completely ignoring Sarah's display.

"I say, has she yet realized how vaginal her dreamscape is? Is it always like this?"

Jareth said nothing and Sarah gritted her teeth. Davion peered around the room with a naughty smile on his face which had an involuntary blush blooming across her own. She saw the curtains darken then, just slightly.

"Sarah, relax," he said to her and she glared over once again. "You do realize, even without my brother's wards, I would not have been able to come here had your subconscious not been even just a tiny bit welcoming?"

She said nothing to that, not wanting to admit he may be right. Jareth had told her something similar once before. Maybe that was why he was being so quiet. In the end she swallowed her nerves and called him out anyway.

"There's no way I want you here. And definitely not naked and tucked under pink satin sheets."

Davion made a rather insulting expression at her and rose his hands up to gesture at the space around them.

"And yet…" He was waiting for her to snap but she didn't. No, she held her ground well, though albeit behind total mortification.

"Then what are you doing here?" she asked, changing topics quickly. Again, Davion tilted his head, this way and that.

"I thought I would check in on you. I did promise to keep you _thoroughly _entertained."

"You're disgusting."

Davion shrugged.

"I could be, if you'd like. Why don't you come a little closer? You were squirming so nicely before you woke." He reached out for her ankle but she shimmied away just in time. It seemed like they were somehow all closer to one another now. Was it the work of her dream?

"Hard pass," Sarah said, glaring at his hand as it withdrew to rest in his lap. He smiled at her, entertained rather than offended by her rejection.

"Suit yourself…" he said, and slyly turned his head towards Jareth. They stared at one another for a moment, leaving Sarah to wonder what the hell Davion was thinking behind that ever-curling grin. "I am still bored though…" he mumbled, and reached out to flick a lock of Jareth's hair that had fallen over his shoulder. "Hmm…" Sarah eyed his movements intently as he then rose an arm to rest on said shoulder, and turned his attention back to her. "Would you rather watch instead?"

She was just staring at them, dubious. She didn't get it. Watch what? Her eyes fell down the length of Davion's arm as it draped casually over Jareth and...it clicked. Suddenly she felt her eyes widening and a damning, inconcealable blush flared across her face.

"Watch? W-watch what exactly?" she asked, hoping she was wrong, hoping he was just fucking with her. Her voice came out much higher than necessary and she gripped the blanket tighter. Davion laughed to himself, a soft, offensive gesture, and turned back to Jareth. He let his tongue trace along his lower lip and then reached out to run the back of a finger lightly down the length of Jareth's arm.

"...What do you think?"

Sarah's eyes widened even more, if it were at all possible, and she felt herself wracked with mortification. She fought back perverted imaginings as best she could, yet her heart continued to pound up into her throat as she watched Davion's hand. She shot her gaze back to Jareth -whose angered expression had only worsened.

Davion leaned in, supporting himself on an arm lost behind Jareth's back, and continued to touch him teasingly. Sarah watched that single fingertip move, brazenly, back up Jareth's arm and now over his clavicle. His face was hovering just over Jareth's chest and -and -and Jareth had yet to stop him.

"Excuse me-"

"Yes?"

As if expecting the interruption, Davion turned and threw her an eye, that damned smile of his only too confident. Sarah felt herself gulping down nerves, deeply unsettled by what she was seeing, more so by what she was imagining.

"What do you think you're doing?" she asked, trying to sound offended but there was a waiver to her voice. Davion tilted his head slightly and brought the arm once bearing his weight to grasp Jareth by the far shoulder. Sarah noticed, with terrible alarm, the way his free hand now settled to rest on the blanket covering Jareth's thigh.

"Nothing yet. Is there something you'd like us to do?"

"Are you kidding? Absolutely not!" Sarah nearly yelled. She was horrified, bemused, embarrassed beyond all reason. Was Davion really coming onto his brother right now? Claiming it was for her sake? Was-was he really asking for her blessing?!

"Why? Are you homophobic?"

Sarah found herself blinking rapidly and shaking her head. He was just staring, unfazed, as if her behavior was as casual as his own. She scowled and fought to steel her expression.

"What? No. But that's-that's beside the point! You're brothers!" she said, appalled. Honestly yes, the insinuation of Jareth being party to some male-on-male action had absolutely caught her off guard to put it mildly, but that didn't mean- And while he had implied he'd been with men before, the idea of actually watching him do so now was- wait. What the fuck? Why was she even contemplating this as a real possibility?!

"And?"

Sarah's chest puffed back up again.

"And-and-and that's wrong! That's disgusting!" She was stammering, unable to figure out why Jareth was still just sitting there, letting himself be pawed at. His arms were still crossed, his eyes deadly and his mouth a stern line. At least he didn't seem to be enjoying it...

"Hm...this must be an Aboveground notion," Davion said, and turned his look back to Jareth. He ran his hand up Jareth's waist, tickling his side, and then his tongue grazed pointedly along his peck.

"Stop touching him!" Sarah shouted, concerned more than anything over why Jareth hadn't yet thrown him across the room. Davion paused and his eyes peered about.

"I will...when you mean it."

Again, outrage found itself blooming in Sarah's chest and she sat up on her knees. The curtains had darkened again, now they were a deep raspberry-red.

"Jareth? Are you seriously okay with this?" she asked, pleading in a sense. She was confused. Confused with all of this, including her own dirty reaction. She wasn't angry that Davion was touching him. She should have been. She should have been royally pissed off. And yet…

Her thighs were kept squeezed tightly together.

"Why would he not be?" Davion answered, which had Sarah's brow drawing. She looked between the two, watched the way Jareth's glare roamed over his brother as he continued to endure him. While he was most definitely irritated, Sarah had come to recognize his posture as something else. There was an ease about him, as if his brother's touch was not something unknown to him and was even less repulsed by. The tension in his arms had even started to relax. Sarah wondered gravely then if he was holding back any response merely on her account, and then the thought emerged: had he done this before?

"Jareth…?"

His continued silence unnerved her.

"He won't stop me, if that's what you're asking." Again, it was Davion who spoke. He leaned into Jareth, who braced in the effort to support him, going so far as to uncross his arms and press his hands to his thighs, as Davion gestured a hand out towards her. "This is your dream, remember? Dreamcasting...is a very delicate art. One cannot simply do as they please in another person's subconscious. I can only do what I am allowed to do," he explained, turning those dastardly eyes back to Jareh's torso. He extended his fingers and walked them precariously along Jareth's chest. "The limits can only be pushed so far...lest it devolve to a nightmare. And that is not something any of us want."

"There's no way I'm okay with this."

"Are you worried it will be considered an infidelity?" he asked. Sarah blanched. He cast her a knowing grin. "Come now, even I know such practices exist amongst your people. What is it called? Swinging? Something happily married couples engage in...together." His eyes became lost on his ministrations of Jareth and he licked his lips, pausing before continuing. "Besides...this is a dream. Once you wake, we will all be untouched...no harm...no foul…" He leaned back and planted a tantalizing kiss on Jareth's shoulder. She saw Jareth flinch, but with what reaction she couldn't discern.

"Jareth, are you seriously consenting to this?" Sarah asked. Was she angry yet? She wasn't sure. If anything, she was bothered by how quiet he'd been, why he would let himself be molested, and in front of her at that? Was this an infidelity? She didn't feel betrayed. "H-have you done this? Been with him before?" She'd meant her tone to be accusatory, but there was a curiosity lining her words that betrayed her apparent disgust. Perhaps it would not have been so noticeable had they not been within her own mind. Davion grinned and curled both his arms around his brother. Jareth rocked with him a bit, snarled, and rolled his shoulder in apparent annoyance. This was, however, the only effort of protest he made, and Davion clung to him with glee.

"Jareth and I have had many different kinds of fun over the years...in the heat of the moment, one tends to forget whose limbs belong to who, whose mouths are on what, whose _appendages _are penetrating whose orif-"

"Okay enough!" Sarah stopped him, holding a feverish hand out between them for emphasis. This time, Davion listened and released Jareth completely as he leaned up. She wondered for a moment if her command had actually worked.

"You say that meaning to sound outraged but…" and then he paused, peering around conspicuously as if listening for something. When he spoke again, it was with a smile. "...all I'm sensing is embarrassment...and intrigue."

"What? Are you reading my damn thoughts?" Sarah snapped. She hated this, this stupid mind-fuckery. Jareth had pulled the same shit, telling her what her own thoughts and desires were as if she didn't already know. This time however she was less quick to rebut him. And maybe that was because-

"Sarah, we're in your subconscious. I'm reading the walls," Davion said, gesturing around the room. Again Sarah blanched. She said nothing, for she knew he was right. Did she want this? Was she into it? "And by the way,_ he_ can read them too." She glanced at Jareth and paled, pitifully. Was that why he was putting up with all this? Because of whatever signals he was gleaming from her subconscious? Her heart was beating furiously and she wanted desperately to wake up, and yet her eyes remained fixed, remained wide and eager for whatever move Davion made next. "If you can honestly tell me the thought has never crossed your mind, if that thought was not at all tempting, then I will leave this very instant."

Sarah stared wordlessly, deeply agitated by the tremble coursing between her thighs. Had the thought crossed her mind? Of course it had. She remembered an instance when the idea of the two of them together, even the addition of Roldan, had poised itself unabashedly in her mind's eye. However, then it was satire. It was something to laugh at. Surely an intrusive thought alone could not be so dangerous?

Was that what was allowing Davion to be here? Was that what was allowing him to do these things? That one time when she'd made one joke by thinking of one fantasy and…

And as she stared at them now, saw them bared, in all but flesh, and seemingly willing, she realized this was no longer a thought, that it had become something much worse and more dire than a passing temptation.

"Sarah."

Sarah's impassioned look turned to Jareth. That was the first time he'd spoken to her. She stared at him worriedly, worried because the look he was giving her was no longer irritated. It was expectant, maybe even impatient.

"_Is_ this what you want?" he asked, keeping his eyes locked with hers. She opened her mouth but no words came. Didn't he already know? She was beside herself. Her eyes caught Davion as he began to move again, to run his hands now firmly along Jareth's body. Jareth made no move to stop him, didn't so much as tense in apprehension. He only stared at her, awaiting her response. It was as if Davion wasn't even there.

"I-I-"

"Don't struggle too hard, love," Davion said, brushing away more of Jareth's hair as he began to nip lightly at his neck. "I told you, you're more than welcome to watch. I know my brother is eager to please you, no matter what those labors might involve." And he kissed his brother on the neck. Jareth arched his neck reflexively, seeming to pull away a little from the contact, yet she knew his expression and it was not without a small trace of enjoyment. Sarah felt a hot pang move through her and immediately smothered it into submission. Again, without pause, Davion placed another wet, open-mouthed, terribly exhibitionistic kiss upon a different spot, suckling sharply to elicit a faint warning growl from Jareth. "Perhaps you'll feel more inclined to join after seeing just how _hard_ your husband wishes to please you."

Sarah sat in a puddle of contended and confused arousal as she watched the scene unraveling before her. Jareth was still scowling, his eyes averted with distaste, and yet his expression did not match his manner. Davion touched him possessively, intently, knowing with each precise movement how he would lead Sarah's gaze and provoke her further. He bit him harder, dragged his teeth and his tongue more sharply. She watched Jareth's chest rise a little higher on a breath but she could only wonder if it was with the desire for him to cease or continue.

She never expected this. Never ever thought this was something that could actually happen. That's when she realized, it wasn't_ actually happening_. This was her _dream_. Was Jareth restraining himself? Or was he plainly unable to push his brother away, left at the mercy of her subconsciousness's curiosity? Was...was Jareth actually being molested right now? Because it was_ her_ dream?

"How do I know it's even the real you? Are you even Davion and Jareth? Or is this actually a dream?" she found herself asking. The idea that Jareth's authority in her dreamscape had been curbed by her own desires was troubling, mainly because she had not the faintest idea of how to control it. How was Davion manipulating her? Was he truly only doing what her psyche permitted him to do? And likewise was Jareth barred from acting against it? Did she want Davion to touch him? Did she really want to see this through fruition? Fruition? What the fuck did that even mean?!

She found herself panicking again as she imagined just how far this could end up going.

"Oh. You can't tell?" Davion asked, calling back her attention. He saw the worry lain on her face, saw how lost and innocent she looked, saw how none of it compared to the flame of lust steadily churning in her eyes. "Haha, well isn't this just delightful."

"Sarah." And Sarah's head snapped back to Jareth immediately. "Answer me. Is this something you want?" he asked again. Davion leaned up, apparently trying to kiss his way to Jareth's mouth, and Sarah found herself immensely relieved when this time Jareth reached out, grabbed his brother by the face, and pushed him away. Davion chuckled, his rhythm unshaken as he went back to nipping at his torso. Sarah's brow furrowed then. So...did he have control of his own body, or not?

"...Is it something_ you_ want?" she countered. Jareth was quiet. Apparently they were at a stalemate. Neither would admit this was something they may have wanted, when she knew, somehow she knew, this was exactly what they all wanted. She watched Davion suck on his neck, watched Jareth arch for it while keeping his eyes locked on hers. It was erotic, a deeply carnal and somehow intimate moment for her. She wanted to move closer to him. She wanted to reach out and...

Neither one of them answered the question, but the room around them turned to a dark, blood-colored red.

"I think…" Davion started, smiling wickedly as he trailed his teeth down Jareth's chest and boldly flicked his tongue over his left nipple. "...the thought of seeing just how far we're willing to go with one another _colors you intrigued_. Would you agree? ...Sarah?" He laughed at her lack of response but the moodiness of their surroundings spoke for her. "Even without words, I think we know_ her_ answer at least, don't we brother?"

If Sarah had the chance to respond she missed it miserably, and was only left to gape as she watched, totally helpless, as Davion reached down beneath the blanket and tightened his hand in a shameless fist around Jareth's shaft.

Sarah gasped audibly and her hands flew up to cover her face.

Did that really just happen? Was this really happening right now? Was she-was Davion really jerking him off right now?

Jareth groaned on reflex from the surprise but quickly shook his head and grabbed Davion's wrist tightly, stopping him from making any further movements.

"I need you to say it," Jareth said to her, opening his eyes as if the contact were painful, and stared at her beseechingly. Sarah was struck dumb. Truly. The way he was looking at her, the way he was restraining himself, the way her mouth was watering because of it... "I don't want you to regret..." he continued, and she recognized a new ambivalence in his voice. Her wide, shocked eyes beamed at him hopelessly. She couldn't speak. She was too embarrassed. She was too...turned on.

Davion smiled at her reaction and began to slowly kiss his way down Jareth's torso. His brother's grip on his arm was like a vice, and yet he had just enough leverage to pump him in a provocative little motion that was sure to have Sarah's blush spreading even lower. As intended, her eyes followed him, caught on the undulation beneath the blanket, and she found her tongue running along her lower lip subconsciously. This was wrong. This was wrong on so many levels, and she was shocked and horrified by how visceral her own reaction was. Was it because it was a dream that it was easier to simply let it happen? Had her subconscious barred her shame for a later time? Maybe she was still high. Maybe her inhibitions were still in a lowered state.

In the end, she knew she had nothing to blame, knew that there was no reason to cast blame at all. She was becoming disturbingly aroused by this, by something she'd honestly never before dared to _actually_ fantasize about. Was this her true nature? Could she really be party to something like this? She'd just told him she no longer wanted to be innocent. Well...nothing like jumping into the deep end head first.

"Aw, look at that. You're both so _undeniably_ aroused and yet neither of you will admit it for fear of offending one another," Davion said, his annunciation of the word _undeniably_ causing Sarah to realize Jareth was in fact erect beneath the blanket, and was seeming to only become more so the more Davion worked him. Another pang wracked through her and she found herself biting her lips unwittingly. "Sarah…" Davion said, in the most lascivious of tones, and immediately she found her voice.

"Yes."

It was quick. It was quiet. It was all Davion needed. He smiled sinfully, triumphantly, as he felt Jareth's grip on his arm loosen. "Perhaps I'll take initiative for the both of you…" he said, successfully pulling Sarah's gaze from his brother back to himself. "...Watch closely." He held her gaze, let the truth of her decision sink in and disarm her fully, before lowering his head, pulling back the blanket, and taking Jareth deep into his mouth.

Sarah gasped again, her voice becoming a high-pitch squeak as she watched, unblinking, unmoving, as Davion sucked Jareth to the back of his throat and then withdrew slowly, letting his tongue curl around his hardened shaft and making sure her eyes caught every glint of saliva left in his wake. Sarah swallowed her tongue, she failed to breathe, to do anything at all but cross her legs beneath her and revel in sheer, disgustingly-amazed, enthrallment. She saw how hard he was, how he pulsed with each movement. Davion's hand rose to grip the base of his cock and his eyes peered at her to confirm she did in fact approve.

She tore her eyes away in embarrassment and brought them to Jareth. His head was cast back and he was gritting his teeth, still trying to abstain himself from enjoying it. Feeling her gaze searching for his however, he opened his eyes and looked back at her. Their eyes locked and this time neither withdrew. He started breathing a little heavier and the room turned darker still. She acknowledged now that the state of her arousal was no secret to them and fought the growing desire to move closer. She heard soft noises of panting, and sucking, and lapping from Davion but she couldn't look at him. It wasn't about him. It was about she and Jareth, about how deeply libidinous the tether between their locked eyes became.

He reached down and fisted a hand into Davion's hair, roughly directing him up and down on his erection. Sarah felt the heat in her chest rising. His eyes were still locked with hers. He was doing this_ for her_.

"Come here," he said, and offered her his free hand. Sarah hesitated, but ultimately reached out and placed her palm against his. His fingers curled and then pulled her in close. She stumbled and held herself awkwardly, not wanting to touch Davion as he crouched between them. She was so fucking turned on she could barely stand it and yet it was near impossible to convince herself to move. Her face was now close to Jareth's and she could feel the heat of his breath as he panted heavier. Her eyes dropped to his mouth, and he reached behind to hold her at the nape, and kissed her. She closed her eyes and it was like her body sprang to life. She kissed him back, hungrily, and he allowed himself to moan for her. She too panted, utterly ignoring the hand Davion had placed on her thigh for balance. "Do you like this?" Jareth whispered. His eyes had opened just barely and watched her with such longing. Sarah nodded, her lips parted, her eyes ablaze. The way he was staring at her had her growing wet and uncomfortable. She'd nearly forgotten about Davion completely when he asked, "Do you want me to cum in him?" And then her nostrils flared. She was embarrassed, so ungodly embarrassed, and yet still she nodded. Who was she? Who was this perverted sexual goddess possessing her brain? Was it Davion's manipulation? Was it her all along?

Jareth closed his eyes and kissed her again. In an instant all trace of worry left her and she melted, her hold on the blanket covering herself nearly falling limp as Jareth took one of her hands and pulled it down. He pressed her hand into Davion's hair and enclosed his firmly overtop hers. She drew in a sharp breath and nearly pulled away, but the feeling of his movement between them inadvertently stimulated her more. Jareth's grip tightened and he began to push him down rhythmically, making his brother gag as he thrusted his hips too deep. Sarah's breathing was nearly as labored as Jareth's, and she was unprepared when he suddenly twitched, a tense shudder constricting his grip around her hand and holding Davion in place as he came down his throat. She heard the sounds of Davion swallowing, of him gasping, and felt him now struggling for air, but still_ they_ held him; firmly in control until Jareth was well-spent. Sarah pulled back slightly, afraid of how strongly witnessing that moment had affected her.

Jareth's grip loosened and Davion pulled away. He breathed heavily and wiped at his mouth, still crouching between them.

"So rough…" he mumbled, though still highly amused. Jareth ignored him, and reached back for Sarah. He took hold of the sides of her face and kissed her roughly. She made breathy noises and eased back. She was sitting up on her knees and arched as one of his hands reached around to grasp at the bare skin of her back.

"Do you want him to touch you?" he asked, and her eyes darted nervously. She didn't know…She wasn't ready...Could she really…?

"I...I don't want you to think-"

"Do you want him to touch you?" Jareth asked again, an air of impatience and post-orgasmic fatigue making his voice sound hoarse.

Sarah held his gaze, swallowed hard, and nodded.

Jareth reached down and pulled the blanket from her, and she was surprised by how easily she released it.

Davion smiled. He was still laying in his brother's lap and was looking up as Sarah's body revealed itself. He reached out and caressed her thigh, his hand moving upward ever-so-carefully. He felt her tense but Jareth's aggressive kisses soon distracted her. He started to sit up, slyly moving behind her as his hands gently massaged around her hips. She was becoming more and more aware of him, and both could sense her nerves were sparking back to life. That was when Jareth reached down and pinched her nipples. She moaned sharply but did not pull away as his hands kneaded and groped. Davion was kneeling behind her now, admiring the shape of her waist and ass as she arched herself toward Jareth. He ran a hand down the length of her and then reached below. And then she felt a finger press into her.

Sarah gasped again but was more conscious in her recoil. She was still embarrassed and she worried over what Jareth might think of her. His eyes however, were laden and he turned her face back to him reassuringly. He continued to kiss her, to ease her tension, and brought one of her hands low to pump at his renewed erection. She felt Davion's mouth on her back, leaving hot kisses that made her shiver, along with hisfingers (now multiple) as they moved in and out of her a little deeper with each thrust.

"Jareth…" she breathed, still so uncertain. He pulled her astride him and Davion's ministrations ceased. She felt someone's hands gripping her hips, their fingers pressing tightly as they pushed her down onto Jareth's cock. She gasped, and moaned, and closed her eyes. Jareth began to move, to fill her, and stretch her, and fucked her beautifully.

Sarah rose higher on her knees, simply letting herself be molded to whatever pace Jareth set. She was lost in him, lost in how close they felt. Her eyes were glazed and her cheeks were flushed and she'd, for that singular moment, forgotten they were not alone.

She was all too aware of the feeling of Davion's finger molesting her anus and felt a stronger wave of shame hit her when that finger pushed into her.

She winced uncomfortably and tensed, though said nothing to stave him. She felt him penetrating her with unsettling ease and was even more caught off guard by how good it felt. Jareth was still thrusting into her, though had slowed and now cupped her face to bring her attention to him.

"Calm down," he assured, and she looked at him worriedly. She'd never done this before. Not even with Jareth. Was she really ready? "It's different here," he continued, and she took a moment to find her composure. Her arms were wrapped around his neck, her hands curled back to toy with his hair. "There won't be the same sense of...resistance...If you want to go further. If this is what you want." She let the calm of his tone sooth her and glanced back over her shoulder. Davion was there, and his eyes lowered as he kissed her shoulder tenderly. His free hand grasped her shoulder while the other continued to stretch her, and she couldn't stop herself from remarking on how similar they looked.

The recognition aroused her. It aroused her greatly.

"Jareth, I-" She panicked and tore her eyes away. Davion was Davion and he was not to be trusted. Was it really okay for them to be doing this? Was she really okay with him-

Again Jareth grasped her by the jaw and held her close until her eyes were forced to look upon him. His gaze was clear, earnest, and patient.

"You're with me, remember?" he said, and she sighed. He angled her head, held her under the shoulder as he made her more aware of his presence inside her, and brushed his lips just barely against hers as he said, "Only me."

"How sweet." The sound of Davion's voice drew her attention, along with the way he nipped at her shoulder and greedily grasped the round of her ass. It was then that she realized both his hands were free. That they both were now moving, along with Jareth's, to her hips. Four hands held her in place, and it dawned on her that the feeling pressing into her rear was Davion on the verge of fucking her.

He pushed into her, gently. She braced but then relaxed with a laboured breath. He watched her carefully, watched as Jareth kissed along her neck and pulled her from her worry. He pushed into her again, harder this time, and Jareth released his hold on her hips. Davion gripped her tighter, angled her as he timed Jareth's thrust and finally pushed deep inside her. Sarah moaned, yelled, screamed actually, as two sets of hands began to paw at her, grope and massage her, gentling her as her body loosened for them. She began to relax, to give herself to the moment, and moaned wantonly. With her encouragement, they both began to move, to fuck her deeply and thoroughly, filling her body in a way she was unable to fathom. Jareth was right. There was no pain. There was no pain because it wasn't real. It was pure sensation. As much sensation as she wanted to feel.

She heard Davion panting at the corner of her ear, feeling the moisture of his breath against the back of her neck as he too moaned. He sucked on her, just as Jareth sucked her neck on the opposite side, and she found herself wedged like a plank between them and entirely at their mercy. She braced herself against Jareth's shoulders and tilted her head towards the ceiling. The curtains were nearly black, sodden, and made heavy with her own arousal. She felt Jareth's teeth bite down on the flesh of her breast and his hand pulled her up to him. She felt Davion's grip on her hips rock her to both brothers' benefit. She moaned louder and louder, and gripped her nails into the flesh of Jareth's shoulder until they drew blood and-

* * *

Sarah awoke with a jolt.

She sprang forward so fast she thought she might fall off the bed. She gasped, and heaved, and exhaled raggedly. Her jaw gritted tightly and a sweaty hand pushed back the hair from her face as she stared all around the room in horror.

She was in her room again, the one in Davion's castle. It was quiet, and she peered down to find Jareth tucked in quietly next to her.

She took a moment to compose herself and took a very, very deep breath. When she exhaled, some of the tension left her but none of the panic. She scooched away but immediately deduced Jareth was still asleep. Still quaint, and vulnerable, and possibly totally unaware of what had just happened to her. She reached out to him but stopped herself, choosing instead to feel all over her own body. There was nothing. No sign of Davion anywhere.

A nervous hand rose to the column of her throat. What in the bloody-fucking-hell was that? Was that real? Real as in, Real Jareth and Real Davion? Or was that_ literally_ a dream? Her gaze burned through Jareth as she debated whether or not to wake him, to accuse him, to beg him to reassure her it was okay. She was mortified. Totally. Beyond compare. The way she'd let that snake of a man touch her...touch him? No. No, there was no way that was real. Jareth would never -would he? Fuck.

She stood from the bed and went to the bathroom, needing to splash a whole lot of cold water on her face. She couldn't believe it. It all felt so real. It really did_ feel_ real. Her face turned the color of a cherry and she shook her head at the sorry image the vanity mirror provided her. What should she do? Play it off like no big deal? Own it like a Queen? What if-what if it wasn't the real Jareth?

For some reason that question stuck with her. She was fairly certain Davion had indeed snuck into her mind, but that was the trick wasn't it? Davion was the one manipulating her. Something had seemed off about Jareth in the beginning. What if...what if Jareth wasn't even there at all? Something grave and sickening fell over her as she tried to imagine what Jareth's reaction would be should he learn what she had done with his brother. She started shaking her head again. This was fucked. Jareth would undoubtedly be furious and she'd be damned if he _punished_ her again. But would she not deserve it? Even just a tiny bit? Davion had said he wouldn't have been able to even enter if the temptation hadn't once crossed her mind. Jesus fuck.

Quickly, she stormed out of the bathroom and donned a robe, cinching the belt tightly around her as she spied on Jareth. He was still asleep, soundly too it seemed. Maybe she could take care of this without him ever needing to know…

The idea of keeping such a secret from him had her stomach churning in violent knots.

She opened the door and was surprised to find a set of guards standing on either side of the frame.

"Oh, um...Do you happen to know where Davion is?" she asked, in a hushed voice. She had no idea what time it even was, but still. If she was awake, she was pretty sure he would be too. The guards turned and bowed, and she found herself hurrying to close the door behind her lest they wake Jareth.

"He's enjoying breakfast in the dining hall, Your Majesty," one of them said. Sarah gritted her teeth. Of course he was.

"Would you like one of us to take you to him?" asked the other. Sarah tensed her jaw and took another deep breath. She was so pissed-off it was hard to contain. She could only imagine how smug he must look right now.

"Yes, please. I'm afraid I don't yet know my way around," she said, in as pleasant a tone as possible. They both nodded, though only one stood away from the wall to escort her.

It was an awkward minute and a half walk to the dining hall. Sarah was positively fuming and if the guard had the inclination to look back at her, he would probably see smoke shooting from her ears. She was jittering. Literally. Anxious nerves were coursing through her at an ungodly rate. What was she even planning on saying to him? What if he denied it? What if it really_ was_ a dream?

The guard led her to a door and stopped before it as another guard bowed, and then opened it for her. She entered ahead of him, storming directly towards the head of the table as a voice announced, _"Her Majesty, The Queen."_

Davion was sitting at the end of the table with an indiscernible platter of food set before him. He was as candid as ever, and looked up to her with a cheerful smile.

"Ah, good morning Sarah. I didn'tpeg you as an early riser."

Sarah felt her fists tightening at her sides. The way he was staring at her was so Goddamn pleasant; it made her want to smack the expression clear off his face.

She leaned in close so she wouldn't have to yell.

"Good morning, my ass. I know what you did Davion," she snarled. She was gripping the edge of the table and pointed a nasty finger at him. Bemusement was a look that was far too practiced and sat far too naturally on his face. He set down his fork and looked up at her.

"I have no idea what you mean," he said, with a light upturn that conveyed he did not give any fucks in concealing the matter beyond that. Sarah found herself fuming all over again.

"Don't bullshit me. You were in my head last night. You're a Goddamn pervert. You had no fucking right-"

"Ah, so much vulgarity. And before noon at that! I thought Jareth was working to curb that demeanor of yours?"

His provocations made it hard for her to remain composed and she figured unraveling her was his intention. She closed her eyes briefly and shook the rage away.

"Do you have any idea how serious this is? How wrong that was?" she asked. Davion tilted his head but held her gaze. He was feeling absolutely none of the urgency Sarah was.

"Wrong? What exactly was wrong about it? I recall you enjoying yourself thoroughly, literally, which is in fact what I promised you the moment you arrived."

Sarah didn't respond right away. She was too abashed. The arrogance of this man! It rivaled his brother's and was even more infuriating.

"So you don't deny it? You_ were _in my head?" And now Davion's brow rose.

"Wait, you mean you came barrelling in here, half-cocked, tossing around accusations, and yet unsure whether it was actually _me_ or your _own_ perverse imaginings? My, what trouble you must cause my brother," he said, glancing away dismissively as he took a sip from his glass. Sarah growled, reached out, and took his cup away forcefully. She set it down, out of his reach, with a thud. He looked at it, then at her, and sighed. Apparently he would be giving her his full attention.

"Don't deflect. What the hell is wrong with you? Did you really think you were going to get away with-with-"

"With what, Sarah?" And she found herself interrupted from her stammering. He was staring at her, looking straight through her actually. He was bored and it only angered her more. He shifted his position and leaned forward on an arm, closing the gap between them further. "As I said last night, everything that happened was something that you allowed to happen. And you enjoyed it. Immeasurably. I did not get away with anything. You encouraged it."

She bit her tongue and said nothing. He was right, but that didn't change the fact that this was severely messed up. Goddamn it, why did he have to look so much like Jareth all of the sudden?

"You had no right. I'm married to your brother."

"Yes? And?" She blinked and tensed her fists anew. "Oh, don't tell me you were planning on remaining monogamous?" he asked, as if he pitied her. He laughed and looked away again, the sound light, and airy, and genuinely amused.

In a moment of impulse, Sarah reached out and slapped him starkly across the face.

The smile waned from Davion's face and he raised a hand to sooth away the sting. He wasn't expecting that. He only hoped the guards hadn't heard.

"Now that...sweet sister...was entirely unnecessary." His tone was lower, a twinge more serious, and she was glad she'd finally been able to break through his bravado. Yes, he was reminding her more and more of Jareth, and she would deal with him in the exact same way -not that she'd ever had the courage to actually slap_ him_.

"Hardly," she said, her own voice hardened. She leaned up a little, feeling her outrage settle into something more manageable, and watched him as he turned in his seat to face her.

"May I ask then, if my behavior was so egregious, why is it you who has come to put me in my place and not my brother?" His question was lined with something suspicious, a sense of knowing that had her worrying all over again.

"I think you know why," she said, urging him to make the admission himself. He had her at a disadvantage suddenly, for both knew she had no idea whether or not they had each fucked Dream or Real Jareth.

Davion smiled again, his cheek now reddening noticeably.

"You're afraid to confront him. You have no idea if that was him or a figment of your own musings. And so you've come to me instead, to handle the matter _discreetly_. _Ah-haha_. This is truly astounding. No, I think I shall keep that bit of knowledge to myself and leave you teetering. Will you ask him? Or perhaps...might we spoil the child and agree to render this little indiscretion of ours...quiet?" He spoke haughtily but Sarah was impervious. The absolute rage she felt towards him in that moment was unparallelled. Was he seriously trying to blackmail her right now? He just all but confirmed that was not the real Jareth. If it were, her silence would not matter at all. How could she be so stupid?!

"Are you kidding me right now? He trusts you!" she said, in disbelief.

"No, I am far from kidding, sweet girl. Imagine for a moment, as I know you have been, that Jareth was _not_ privy to our little romp. Do you think I will be the only one on the receiving end of his whip? I may be his brother, but you are his wife. His most treasured possession. How do you think he'd feel to learn just what a disgusting, traitorous little thing you are?"

She felt her confidence waiver just then, his goading working through a crack in her armor. She bit the inside of her lip and fought to remain stern. She was terrified, more than anything really, of receiving another of Jareth's punishments. They'd come too far for that -at least, she hoped. And yet the fear Davion's warning had provoked in her was very much real. Could she risk confronting Jareth? Could she handle those consequences?

Yes. She would handle anything so long as Jareth wiped the floor with the smug look still lain on his brother's face.

"You've got some nerve, I'll give you that. But you give yourself away trying to blackmail me like that. You don't want me to tell him because you're afraid too," she said, not backing down in the slightest. She leaned in again and held his gaze intently. "You're lucky I don't tell Jareth right now-"

"Tell me what, exactly?"

Sarah's posturing fell dead in an instant as she whipped around to Jareth. He was standing directly behind her. She paled, her mouth gaped utterly, and she stammered for composure. He was dressed, conscious but not altogether awake yet, and his expression made it immediately clear that he really did not have any idea what was going on between them. She panicked and found herself stepping to the side as he moved closer to his brother.

"It seems Sarah has had a bit of a nightmare, though I don't know why she would rather come to me and not you for such things," Davion said, reclining his arms behind his head and glancing away with nonchalance. Sarah gaped again, unable to tear herself from the immense shock and anger she was feeling. Jareth had turned to her, furrowed his brow, and was inspecting her closely. She didn't like the look in his eye - preemptive aggression that scrutinized her in a manner she was not prepared for.

"Sarah?"

"Don't listen to his bullshit-" she suddenly said, and glared over at Davion. Jareth's expression hardened and he too glared over to his brother. "He was in my head last night. He- he-"

When Jareth had woken that morning he was surprised to find his bed absent one Sarah. She was nowhere to be seen, and he realized quickly that she was in fact no longer in the room at all. He'd gotten up, and dressed, and entered the hall. The guards had informed him she'd asked to see his brother and already he was growing irritated. He had no idea why she would want to see him, why she would go out of her way and sneak away from his side to do so. He had not suspected much at the time, however. Perhaps sleep was still too heavy on his consciousness. When he'd entered the dining hall he'd spotted her and felt an instinctive flare of relief, though that relief soon turned into something else as he approached them; as he caught a glimpse of the deep scowl and look he'd come to recognize as disdain radiating from her unto him. And his brother...his Goddamned brother was loving it.

He surmised immediately what had happened. Sarah was panicking and on the verge of a rage. Irritated, and feeling the early thrum of a headache, he reached out and silenced her by grabbing her fiercely by the forehead. She shut her mouth and raised her hands to try and tear his hand away, but his grip remained firm. He held her there, in commanding silence, as he divulged what exactly was causing all the fuss.

After a moment, he lowered Sarah from her toes. She'd gone pitifully quiet and, as he withdrew his hand, gazed up at him with an unwarranted level of worry that had him staving off a deep growl in the back of his throat. He turned his attention away from her and locked that piercing stare on Davion.

Sarah waited for the shoe to drop. Jesus Christ, this was not how it was supposed to go -as if she'd had any kind of plan in the first place. Jareth was no longer looking at her and she could only think it was because he was disgusted with her. He looked angry. Incredibly. And stared unblinking at his brother, who had the gall to -not whither- but actually flourish beneath it. He reclined further in his chair and took a deep breath. No. He was not afraid of his brother. At least not yet.

"Jareth?" Sarah said, timidly.

"Leave." The command in Jareth's voice was unquestionable, though she managed to defy it. She felt her shoulders haunching, terrified he was about to start screaming at her. Instead, he turned that icy glare straight at her and spoke just as coldly. "Go back to the room and do not leave it. Now."

Sarah bit her lip, shot one last glance at Davion, who was now ignoring her completely, and left.

Jareth glowered, unblinking, as he waited for the sound of the door shutting behind Sarah. His brother was looking away from him, feigning disregard as anticipation finally caught up with him. After a moment, the door slamming shut bellowed behind them, and Jareth took a step forward. He cast out a hand, sealing all exits with his magic and barring any sound from being heard by those outside.

"Stand up."

Davion hesitated, looked over to his brother, and straightened himself in his seat.

"Really now, do you think all of that is necessary?" he asked. His voice was still light, still irritatingly cavalier. Jareth felt a tick in his jaw and reached out to grab him by the scruff of the neck. He wound his braided hair into a knot around his fit, and hoisted his brother up and to his feet. Davion winced and instinctively brought his hands to Jareth's as he staggered upright. "Aye! Aye! So impatient you are this morning!" he said, smiling as if the pain in his scalp brought him joy. Jareth snarled his lip and tossed him aside, paced a few feet away from him, and then turned back sharply.

"Take off your shirt," he ordered, with that same rigid tone. Davion glanced back and grinned, running a hand through his scalp as he smoothed away the hurt. His brother was looking royally pissed-off. Much to his imminent detriment, it invigorated him.

"Perhaps we should invite Sarah back first-"

"Now."

Jareth interrupted him, clearly in no mood to entertain his jests. Davion's confidence faltered for just a moment, and he huffed.

"Fine. Fine. Let's get on with it then, shall we?" he asked, rhetorically, and turned away to untuck the hem of his shirt. He pulled it over his head and cast it aside, then leaned forward and gripped the edge of the table with both hands. "Shall I assume the position as well?"

_*CRACK!*_

Davion gasped as the lick of a whip cut searingly into his flesh. It was the surprise that got him more than anything, and he turned back with a staggered breath to peer at his brother.

"Very impatient indeed," he mumbled, challengingly, and turned back to stare down at the table. "Well? Get on with it!" He heard the sound of the whip cutting the air, once, twice, but the feeling was delayed, the pain slow and scorching as hot threads of blood streamed down his sides. He smiled wickedly as his chest rose and fell harder. A whip did very little for him anymore, Jareth should know that. He was holding back. There was a pause, so Davion seized the moment. "I say, you're not holding back, are you?"_ CRACK!_ "Ah-come now brother, surely you can do better than that? I barely felt that one at all!"

Jareth struck again, harder this time, successfully goaded by his brother. He found his teeth gritting as he watched the lashes split his skin and bubble and bleed. This was only making him more angry.

"It's been a while since you've given me a good lashing. Do you remember? I do-"

"Shut. Your. Fucking. Mouth."

The whip came down again, landing across several open wounds, and sent a spray of blood up into the air. Davion gasped again, finally feeling a slight sting, and gripped the table's edge a little harder.

"You know, I don't see what's gotten you so riled. I distinctly remember a time when you couldn't have cared less about who your wife slept with. I find it unsettling that you worry so pitifully over this one-" and then he yelped, blood cascading from the side of his face. Jareth had turned, angled his arm, and caught the tail of the whip around his cheek, nearly slicing it clear through. Davion's breathing turned a little ragged, and he spit a mouthful of blood onto the floor beside him. "Are you perhaps upset I was the one to claim her in the ass? Oh, don't think I didn't pick up on that delicious little detail."

"You really are incessant," Jareth said, just as the whip cut into him again.

"Exactly, dear brother, my behavior is as consistent as ever. You're the one who's become so ungodly boring over the last two months. Since when were you one to bat an eye at a little dreamweaving?"

"Davion...Do you hear yourself? Why must you constantly undermine me? Why when you, only you, know what's at stake? Do you truly just not care? Do you truly hate me that much?" Jareth was angry, livid, yet there was exasperation in his voice. His hand was heavy but it was not without mercy and Davion sensed this. He was provoking him, inciting him, daring him to tear the flesh from his skin-

"Hate you?" Davion asked, with the gall to sound offended. "I could never hate you brother. I admire you above all else, you know that." And the whip came again. This time however, the aftermath was silence. Davion's chest heaved as he waited for another blow, one that he was quick to realize would not come. He glanced back to spy his brother glaring at him with menace, just barely restraining himself as his hand gripped the handle of a long, knotted, bull-whip. "It is because I love you that I must show you the error of your ways. What would befall you, I wonder, should anyone else discover just how easy it is to ruin you?"

The sound of Jareth's fist tightening around the handle of the whip resonated between them. But as the silence stretched, Davion resigned to turn back around and face the table.

"I counted nine. Barely a scratch eh? Shall we make it an even ten? I would have thought you'd be much more generous. Perhaps I've overestimated her value. Just how many lashes is the blushing of your bride worth?"

Davion called out in pain as the next assault flayed open his flesh and curled around the side of his ribs. For a moment the area went numb as a nerve was severed from the surrounding muscle. This was no reprieve however, as another, equally merciless strike soon followed, again, and again, each one cutting deeper into his back. Davion steeled himself. This was more like the Jareth he knew. The one who did not care to hold back.

The sound of Davion's cries did little to assuage the deep disdain rooted in Jareth. He couldn't believe his brother would stoop so low and do something so tactless, and asinine, and completely audacious as this. He should have known better. He should have known not to bring her here. This was his fault really. Sarah had been essentially defiled by another man and it was entirely his fault.

As the blows fell, Jareth found himself absentminded. What once brought him such gratification now felt like a pointless exercise, the thirst for retribution remaining unquenched as he only grew in frustration. As he watched his brother quake and tremble at the mercy of his reprisal, he thought he'd take more pleasure out of simply punching a wall. It would certainly be more responsive. Davion knew what his punishment would be. He knew and he didn't care. He begged for it. He always did. Why was he like this? Why was he so insufferable? Why was he so much, as Sarah had pointedly dawned on him, like himself?

Sarah was right. He'd been too lenient with his brother. He allowed himself to be pushed and thus allowed Sarah to suffer for it. He should flay the flesh from his very bones with hot and gritty knives for daring to show such insolence, to assault the fucking Queen of his country behind he, his own brother's, back.

And yet, as the whip cracked, its vehemence held less conviction. His arm became listless. And, eventually, his hand fell dead to his side.

Davion braced as the lashes ceased and the sound of his brother's boots clicking on the stone floor drew closer to him. He peered to the side, still crouched over the table, and watched Jareth pull back a chair, roughly, and throw himself into it. He'd dropped the whip and scowled as he ran his hands through his hair.

"Sit down," he ordered, and Davion complied. When Jareth opened his eyes, they were blazing. "Do you have any idea how dangerous a situation we're in?" he asked. Davion drew back in his seat. Jareth did not usually stop to chat. His back grazed that of the chair and he flinched, giving in to sit forward instead.

"Of course," he said, and flexed his hands to release the tension from them. "I did nothing that would provoke Liana. You know that." He watched with intrigue the way Jareth inhaled sharply and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Davion...you have no idea. You have no fucking idea." There was desperation in his voice and he shook his head to clear it. He was deeply frustrated, but not in the way he expected. "I'm supposed to be able to trust you, Davion. Who else, in this entire world, am I to trust if not you?"

Davion was silent. Taken aback. It was very rare that Jareth took the time to actually scold him over something. He'd thought this was all in good fun but it seemed his brother was thinking thoughts more dire.

He found his hands curling into fists atop the table. At least...they were talking.

"You can trust me, Jareth," he said, all of the mockery leaving his voice. Jareth smiled spitefully and shook his head again.

"Can I? Please elaborate. After this latest stunt, what makes you think you deserve any of my confidence ever again?"

"Come now, t'was only in good fun. After her actions on the dance floor, I thought it not an entirely unwelcome prospect. You saw how much she enjoyed herself. I never took you for the jealous type-"

"It's not about _that_, you idiot," Jareth snapped. He was getting so frustrated, this blasted headache was now pounding behind his eyes. He scowled and pinched the bridge of his nose again. "Punishing you is a wasted effort. You've always made sure of that," he grumbled.

Davion said nothing right away, pressing his tongue against his teeth as he mulled over Jareth's words.

"Yes...I find it more advantageous-"

"To be an actual glutton for punishment? Yes. Disarming your assailants with such avid abandon is a very effective strategy," Jareth said, sighing roughly as he slouched back in his seat. He felt immensely unsatisfied, as he always did when punishing Davion. Maybe that was why he allowed him to get away with so much in the first place.

"Was it not you who taught me thus?"

Jareth was silent, his scowl exuding a painful tension as he pushed away a perfectly ill-timed childhood memory. He sighed deeply, again, and groaned.

"Indeed. A regrettable decision, as it turns out."

Davion watched him carefully as his guard lowered. This was not a Jareth he recognized. This man was tired, torn, and worried. As a stream of blood dripped from his cheek onto his arm, he realized the mood for clever incitements was dead. He found himself feeling put-off by it. He had been rather enjoying his brother's attentions.

It was quiet for a moment before Davion spoke up again, in a much more subdued tone.

"This has nothing to do with the dream I gave her, does it?" he asked, and flickered his gaze up and down when Jareth's response was naught. He sat up a little straighter and stared at him intently. "What's going on with her now, Jareth? What's changed?"

Jareth's eyes opened towards the ceiling at the change in Davion's tone. It was sobered, calm, and Jareth thought, maybe, he was finally ready to listen. He pulled himself upright and ran a tired hand around the back of his neck as he cracked it.

"Sarah's control over her powers has started escalating," he said, receiving a less than satisfied "Oh?" in return. Jareth sighed then, giving in to lean forward and rest his hands out on the table. He was surprised with how easy it was for him to then say, "And...I made a pact. With Liana."

Davion's brow drew tight.

"A pact? What sort of pact?" he asked. He sounded nervous, and indeed he should have been. Jareth kept his eyes away, reluctant to say anything more.

"I...agreed to abandon my ambition of ever acquiring her."

"You did what?" Davion asked, stunned. When Jareth didn't immediately respond, he leaned towards him a little and probed further. "For what? What could possibly compel you to agree to that?" Jareth's eyes met his brother's for just a moment, and Davion drew back at the level of pain he saw in them.

"...For Sarah," he said, and tore his eyes away. Instead he brought a hand to grip his forehead as he pressed into his temples. "...For the chance to actually be with her."

"Are you serious?"

The absurdity heard in those words had Jareth glaring over with well-tested impatience.

"Yes I am_ serious_," he snapped. "You have no idea what has been given and taken in the slaughter of all this. I know you can't fathom, and much less care, but for the final time I_ love_ this woman. More than anything. I would rather see this desert spread until it consumes our entire world than be in a place left without her. Do you understand?"

Davion didn't know what to say. He was disturbed, greatly. He'd acknowledged his brother had genuine feelings for the girl, and yes he had been told those feelings were of love, yet it was a sentiment rendered little more than superficial to him. His brother had never despaired over anything before, save his namesake. The idea that a woman, a mere mortal woman, could bring The Goblin King, in all his might, pitifully to his knees was honestly ...frightening.

And yet, as he observed him, he knew he'd meant those words. He really would watch the world burn so long as that foul-mouthed girl-child would stand, hand in hand, beside him. For a moment, his thoughts turned to the fate of the kingdom. Did...did he even realize how absurd an image that painted?

"...So that's it then?" he finally asked, beside himself. "Our legacy is gone? Just like that? You're off to live your happily-ever-after while the Labyrinth is, what, left to steadily crumble?"

"I don't know. If I could be so lucky."

"Jareth…" Davion started, and glanced away around the room. "Do you even hear yourself? You sound like a madman."

"I am mad. Seethingly."

Davion shook his head.

"I cannot, in any way, believe you have been reduced to this in a matter of weeks. Nearly a thousand years, since we were boys and you first heard tales of the Labyrinth's might, you have wanted nothing. Nothing but this. And now...I'm sorry. I find myself flabbergasted." Jareth said nothing, feeling no compulsion to justify himself whatsoever and merely glowered. Davion took a deep breath and sighed. "So this deadened air I've sensed around her, is that the work of this pact?" The deflection was enough to draw Jareth from his brooding, and his brow twitched in response.

"...In a sense," he said, then sat up straighter. "I agreed to live and let live, and I suppose in good faith, The Labyrinth agreed to pull energy away from her, prolonging her awakening and allowing me more time to...figure it out."

"She can do that?" Davion asked, bemused. He'd never heard of such a thing. That shouldn't even be possible.

"Apparently," Jareth said, with just as much disbelief. It seemed everything he thought he knew of Liana's capabilities was slowly unraveling, leaving him to wonder, dreadfully, just how much of his father's teachings and forewarnings had been an outright lie. Perhaps he was never actually fighting with Liana. Perhaps she'd been controlling them all from the start.

"And that is why some of your wards are becoming destabilized…" Davion mumbled, nodding slightly. He heard Jareth sigh again. "I was curious why I was suddenly able to enter her mind without a hitch. Are your wards clinging to the seed of power within her for sustenance? Is that how they are able to still operate at all? That is a very fickle bond, Jareth. If your protection of her is becoming hit or miss, you should transfer them into conduits."

"I know this. Obviously. I simply have not had the time. And I did not think it was something I needed to worry about so urgently when all we were planning to do this weekend is visit you_, my loving, ever-trustworthy, brother_." There was exasperation in his voice, a reminder that his brother's indiscretion was far from set aside. Davion's eyes flickered down, the lashes at his back being the least of his concern. He thought over everything Jareth had told him and...

"Jareth...things are becoming very precarious. Surely you hear how bad this sounds? An unnatural aura is surrounding her...to others it might seem like just another ward, but you must realize, if it's undoing the magic around it then it is no safer an alternative. Things cannot continue as such for long. It's too dangerous-"

"You think I don't know that?" Jareth interjected, his voice barely restraining itself from shouting. The hand which had been supporting his forehead clawed out between them in an aggravated gesture. "I have no fucking idea what to do. If she takes control of those powers, if it doesn't kill her in the process, there's no telling what will happen, if she'll be able to stabilize it or if the entire world will begin to unravel."

"Perhaps you should have accounted for that before deciding to keep her." Jareth glared at his brother's patronization. His tone wasn't helping his headache any. At the same time, catching his brother's scrutiny helped curb his angst, and he settled down with a harsh breath.

"I didn't...I didn't think it would take so long," he said, closing his eyes as he pressed the tip of his thumb into his temple.

"To trick her into concession?"

That phrase, now made audible, had him twitching in revulsion.

"I don't want to trick her," he said, and shook his head subtly. "I don't think I can."

Davion's look of concern turned to a full scowl and he leaned away.

"Jareth...You're a disgusting fool. You know she loves you, right?" Those words might have brought relief had they not been the crux of the issue all along. Jareth gritted his teeth and turned towards Davion.

"Yes," he said, surprising Davion by meeting his gaze sternly. "She will not bring herself to say it, but yes. I know." And he'd known for a long time, probably before she even knew it herself. He could smell it on her through her pheromones. He could gleam it from her in her dreams. He'd never wanted to face it then, never wanted to admit it had always been a wasted effort. It didn't matter if she loved him if she had the conviction to keep it to herself.

"It seems the legends were wrong then. That it will not be so easy." Davion's words were solemn and contemplative. Jareth's eyes, which had drifted off as he spoke, turned back to Davion.

"No, it's not the legends that are wrong," he said, and fisted his hands. "It's me. My arrogance. I thought persuading her to fall in love with me would in turn inspire her submission. But...there is nothing submissive about that girl. Ever. Least of all her love." And to that he did feel resentful.

If he had come to her as a white knight and tricked her, been everything she rendered him in her teenage-dreams, then perhaps he really would have Liana's heart by now. But none of that mattered, because that's not the path he chose. Instead he'd been selfish. He wanted her to love him as his equal, when he himself had no idea what that really meant. He just wanted to be seen. He wanted her gaze to fall on him rather than go through him as it had the very first time they'd danced...

He simply, at the time, did not understand what it would mean to possess such a thing, what it would invariably cost.

"At first, I thought breaking her would be enough. I thought if I cracked her spirit, if I confused her, coerced her body to betray her, then she would submit and yield me the Labyrinth, and thus be none the wiser. I underestimated her resilience. I underestimated the lengths she would go to prove herself my equal."

After seeing the way it had destroyed his mother, Jareth thought love to be a unanimously submissive emotion, a weakness, and thus never before allowed himself to experience it. Witnessing what it had done to Aurelia only confirmed it. It made sense to him then, that was the state of mind needed to coerce the subconscious submission of magic from Sarah. He'd tried to remain immune, detached; even after stealing Sarah back, he tried to keep his feelings for her restrained. The love he felt for her was all that he knew, and thus all that he feared: it was unconditional, brutal, undignified, and maddening, and she had a way of wrenching it out of him mercilessly and without consent. Like those before him, he'd given in to that weakness. She simply did not give him the voice. But the way she loved him...the way _he knew_ she loved him...it was not as planned. It was assertive and expectant. It came with strings and it was held, always, just barely out of reach.

"Why not just tell her then?" Davion asked, pulling him away from thoughts of the past and back into the moment. "Perhaps she would submit it to you should she know exactly what's at stake here." Jareth took a moment to respond, as if that moment was the first he'd ever taken to ponder the idea. It wasn't.

"If she knows what she must do, she will not know how to do it. She is not a fae, remember? She has not the same...faculties as we. I can't...I can't risk her losing control. I will not lose her."

"But is that the truth, brother?" And to that Jareth's jaw tensed. His brother was casting a very knowing eye. "Or are you simply afraid that should she awaken and survive, and stabilize the Labyrinth's power, that there would be nothing left preventing her from leaving you?" Again Jareth did not answer, which was an answer in and of itself. Davion sighed and rolled his eyes. "This_ love_ business of yours has really painted you quite unseemly. If only Father could see you now…"

"Davion," Jareth said, with warning. Davion paused but only sighed a second time.

"What course of action shall you take then? You cannot keep something like Liana at bay forever. If you protect your precious mortal from Liana, you make her vulnerable to the rest of the world and vice versa. It seems betting on her concession is a failed effort, so what will you do? As you have so nobly proclaimed, you _will not lose her_ and I believe you would rather not lose the world either…" And then Davion stopped. A thought sprang to mind as he verbally mused. Jareth was still quiet, though the aura of his brooding was near palpable. "Perhaps you should prepare her then, for the inevitable."

"Prepare her?" Jareth repeated. Davion shrugged.

"Obviously. Teach her the theory of our magic. Allow her the chance to withstand being overtaken by the forces of Nature and perhaps your perspective will change as well. You're afraid she will remiss you should this end in anything but disaster? Pardon me, brother, but your hurt feelings seem to be the least important factor in all of this. If she can control Liana, even to a minor degree, that will still be better than the situation we're currently in. And if she leaves you, she leaves you. May I remind you, there is literally a_ world_ at stake. But...who knows, perhaps she will forgive you and love you all the same."

Jareth found himself laughing at that, an impulsive huff that had a wretched smile twisting his face.

"Forgive me? Clearly you have no idea whom you're speaking of," he said, masking the hurt that came with such a thought. He never once expected, nor asked, for her forgiveness. He knew, even in his worst moods, that he did not deserve it. The most he'd ever asked of her was to move on. And she had. She had done so admirably. She had done so with the conviction that nothing would ever be forgotten and that she would never give herself to him _completely_ because of it. He'd sealed his own fate. From day one.

"I suppose then, we are all doomed," he heard Davion say as he gave in to run his hands down his face.

"Indeed."

He was glancing away, forlorn, and looking beyond exhausted as Davion lowered his eyes to his lap.

"Alright...I'm done."

Jareth looked back with a furrowed brow.

"What?"

"This is no longer fun," Davion said, and shrugged. "I've had my fill of tormenting you. Clearly, you have enough to contend with at home. You needn't fret, nor she, at least not from me. I will not bother her any further." Jareth was just staring at him but Davion's manner had returned to the usual nonchalance. "It was never my intention to sever your trust in me, Jareth. When it comes to matters such as this, it has_ always_ been my aim to support you. You should know that by now." His eyes rose from his lap and Jareth saw he was now looking a little tired himself. Jareth felt himself relax, if only slightly.

Davion held his stare for a moment, but before Jareth could respond, he sighed roughly and reached up to his cheek. He coated two of his fingers in blood and then brought them to his chest.

"Davion-" Jareth started, but the concern was short lived as he watched him draw a sigil, with clear conviction, over the center of his chest. He wrote his name in it and crossed it out in blood.

"Here. Perhaps this will earn back some of your faith," he said, and wiped his hand clean with a napkin after finishing the mark. Jareth was scowling. This was going too far.

"This is unnecessary."

"No. It isn't."

"I would never ask that of you-"

"I know. Which is why I'm offering it." Their gazes were locked in a war of sorts, Jareth reluctant and Davion much too eager. Blood oaths were dangerous, permanent bonds. It was not something anyone in their right mind took lightly. He couldn't believe his brother was willing to strike one over Sarah. Starting to feel impatient, Davion inhaled sharply and waved a hand. "Well? Your hesitation is beginning to insult me. Do you think I have not the self-control to keep my promise?" he asked. Jareth wanted to deride him, but knew better. A moment of sincerity between them had become far too rare. As they stared at one another, for a brief moment, he felt like he had a brother again.

"For your sake, I surely hope so," he said, then reached out for a knife on the table.

He nicked his thumb, and extended his arm to press the bead of blood into the center of the sigil on Davion's chest. The mark began to sizzle, to burn its way into his body. Davion winced but held still, gritting his teeth at the way the sensation seemed to tear through the very fibers of his DNA and straight into his soul. He'd never been given an opportunity to prove himself since that day, since the day they'd gone to the Labyrinth and she had told him the faith he had in his brother was wanting. Jareth had never forgiven him. Never regarded their relationship as the same. If he did this now, maybe Jareth would finally see he really did admire him above all else. Maybe, one day, he could finally come home.

* * *

Sarah paced anxiously in her and Jareth's room. This was bad. This was really fucking bad. She hadn't seen Jareth like that in a long time. The shade cast over him was terrifying. And to think, it would be possibly directed at her next. She bit her nails, she was so nervous. She never bit her nails.

And yet she was in fact waiting. Why was she just waiting? Because he had told her to? Was she too scared to run away? Was she sure she even needed to?

As she thought, it wasn't punishment that worried her so much as the verbal shit-storm she was already playing out in her head. What was he doing with Davion? How long would he be? Would it be okay to jump out the nearest window?

It was stupid of her to run to Davion. She should have just stayed calm and talked to Jareth first. Sneaking away had all but confirmed her guilt and oh how the guilt had her reeling. She pushed her face with her hands and groaned. How was she going to handle this?

Time passed, what seemed like a lot of it, but Sarah's nerves had only marginally settled. She gave in to cease her pacing and sat, perched on her knees, on the end of the bed. She was facing the door, staring holes clear through it as she waited in dreadful silence. Goddamn it.

She waited and waited and waited, her finger tapping furiously at her side proved quite a manic metronome. She was biting her lip, worry starting to compress into a state of dismay when the door finally opened.

Jareth opened the door, and she was no sooner on her feet than she was in his face before he could finish closing it.

"Jareth? I-I'm sorry. I didn't -I didn't mean -I'm just-"

A split second had passed and already Sarah was raving at him. Jareth's scowl worsened as he angled his head away from her. His headache immediately renewed. He finished closing the door and brought his hands to her shoulders to gently push her away from him.

"What are you sorry for?" he asked, and she fell dead silent. He hadn't looked at her yet, but if he did he would have seen the gaping tractor-beam that was her gaze. She was far too prepared for this conversation and Jareth was -was he feeling okay?

Sarah stepped back and her mouth hung open as she tried to reorient herself. She'd expected him to be livid, to be smiling that sneer and reaching for her wrists.

"I-um...that dream," she said, suddenly deflated. She watched as he took a step into the room and moved around her. He was wincing, as if pained, and he raised a hand to comb through his hair.

"What about it?"

And again she blinked. Was he serious right now? Was he watching the same dream?

"I...I'm sorry? I didn't mean-" She held her hands to her chest defensively and darted her eyes at the floor as a waiver found her voice. Jareth, finally bringing himself to look at her, sighed and reached out to place his hands on her shoulders once more.

"Sarah, you have nothing to apologize for," he said, and she glared back at him. This time her brow was twisted with suspicion.

"Are you serious? But I thought…" and then her voice tapered off. Jareth was staring at her, his eyes raking over her nervous features and he realized-

"You thought what?" he asked, his tone commanding back her stare. She bit her lip and instinctively took a step in retreat.

"I thought... you were going to…"

"You thought I came back here to punish you?" he asked, and she paled. "You've really been waiting here all this time fretting about that?" he added, incredulously it seemed. Sarah became offended. His tone implied she had no reason in the world to think such a thing. The anger in her eyes spoke for her and he found himself sighing. He released her and leaned away.

"Are you not?" Sarah asked, and he could _feel_ the apprehension that laced those words.

"While I appreciate your patience, no. I had no intention of punishing you," he said, masking the hurt he felt at the way she looked unabashedly shocked by this news.

"Why?" she asked, which almost had Jareth grinning. However, he was much too tired to appreciate the irony, and only sighed.

"Because you did nothing wrong," he said, and walked away from her. She followed after him and grabbed onto the sleeve of his shirt. When he turned back, she saw blood spatter across the front.

"Is-is that blood?" she asked. Jareth cocked a brow but was otherwise deadpan. She drew back and looked at him as if appalled. "What did you do to Davion?" she asked.

Jareth found himself scowling at the judgement he heard in her voice. As if she was in any position to-

"I punished him," Jareth said, enunciating the words callously to make sure she received them to the fullest effect. Whatever trepidation she had been feeling now fell second to the new look of outrage brandishing her face.

"I thought we didn't do anything wrong?" she asked, not knowing where she was going with this. She should be grateful he was not going to punish her and let the topic die. However, that was not in her nature and she did not, in any way, admire the resemblance his current appearance had to the troubled instances of their past. Jareth turned to face her fully. She was afraid and he knew her nerves were getting the better of her. He hated that she was still so afraid.

"You. I said_ you_ did not do anything wrong. My brother on the other hand, was entirely, disgustingly, unforgivably out of line. Do you not agree?" he asked, daring her to wedge herself between he and his brother. Sarah pursed her lips and said naught right away. There were a million thoughts churning behind her eyes and he waited bitterly for the one she chose to say.

"I do," she said, shockingly. From the fevered look in her eye he was expecting her to take his brother's side. He felt himself relax and he took in a shallow breath. "With that said, I don't agree with corporal punishment and you know that. What reaction did you really expect me to have?" she asked.

"I expected you to be angry. At him rather than me," he said, and felt some of the hostility in the air die between them. He saw her posture relax and she took a tiny step towards him.

"I am angry, Jareth. I was absolutely livid when I woke up. That's why I went straight to him. I just- I was afraid that you- are you really not upset over this? Are you really not going to punish me?" She was nervous, and he knew she had the right to be. He was simply tired of it. The look in her eyes...it only reminded him just how far from redemption he still was.

"Upset? I am very much upset, my dear, have little doubt in that," he said, and cracked a disingenuous smirk. "However, I have very little room to complain."

"Complain? What are you talking about? I dream-fucked your brother!" she said, then bit her tongue. Jareth's smirk grew wider. Why was he feeling the urge to tease her so badly?

"No. The three of us dream-fucked each other," he corrected, and turned away. He pulled off his gloves and cast them into a nearby chair as he paced away. Sarah followed after him.

"Y-yes but...you weren't really there. He made that figment to manipulate me. I-"

"Sarah-" The impatience in Jareth's voice commanded her attention. It was faint, but it was there. She stood rigidly as he turned back to face her once more. "Davion did not build an apparition of myself to try and break the ice. You did."

"What?"

"The _me_ in your dream? That was your subconscious. You were warring with yourself and Davion took full advantage of it."

And now Sarah was scowling. She never thought...but that made the most sense didn't it? She could sense something was off in the dream. He was being too quiet. He responded physically when she could not bring herself to do so. He voiced no opinions, and had only asked what it was that _she_ wanted.

"But…how can you possibly not be...angry with me?" Her eyes had fallen to the floor. She felt shameful for some reason, like she should have seen through the illusion all on her own and been able to break from it. Davion only did...what she allowed him to do...

"Because we were together." Sarah peered up at the sense of ease that lightened his voice. She found him smiling at her, fatigue in his eyes, and hands full of tenderness that reached up and held the sides of her face. "Because you only said yes to my brother when you thought it was something that I also wanted. You did not betray me, Sarah, you were trying to make me happy. Am I wrong?" He was holding her jaw so she could no longer turn away; however, her eyes still managed to dart with uncertainty.

"...No…"

"Well then?" he asked, and brushed at her temples with his thumbs. "Why would I be angry over such a thing, or much less want to punish you for it?"

"Jareth…" she heard herself saying, her voice soft, subdued. She reached up and placed a hand lightly over one of his own.

"Did you enjoy it?" And she paused. "Do you regret it?" The hand touching his curled and she lowered her gaze to the side. She wanted to turn away but he would not let her. In truth, the strength of his grip on her was comforting, so instead she turned into it.

"...you know the answer to both of those questions."

"Yes, but I'd like to hear you say it." There was a gentleness to him now, a kind of sympathy she was always caught off guard in receiving. He wasn't judging her. He wasn't angry. She exhaled through her nose and closed her eyes briefly. Maybe this was what he meant when he said he did not become jealous easily.

"I...did enjoy it," she admitted, then reluctantly brought her gaze in-line with his. "If I regret it, it's only because you were not really there. With that said, I in no way want that to ever happen again -in a dream or reality." She was quick to add that last part, cutting the air with a hand for emphasis. Jareth stifled a laugh as he released her. She found that an odd reaction and watched him intently.

"Hmph, for now."

"Excuse me?"

"Sarah, I've told you, when you live as long as we do your sense of ethics changes. It numbs, until the means by which you entertain yourself are sometimes...extreme. While I cherish the thought of being the only man who ever _knows_ you, I do not for one moment delude myself into thinking that will always be the case. You are very young. I have a world yet to teach you, and you may find, one day, you wish to teach and be taught by others as well."

Sarah stared at him skeptically. Knowing Jareth to be the deeply possessive creature he was, she did not for one moment believe such words, even coming from his own mouth. Though he seemed to mean them. He seemed to mean them with an air of sadness that hadn't yet come to pass.

"And...you're okay with that?" she asked. She didn't like the look on his face; it looked defeated. Did she want him to be more angry? More impassioned and _possessive_? She did not want him to look at her the way he had looked at Davion and yet...

"No. I'm not," Jareth said, calling back her attention. His mouth curled on one side and he raised an eyebrow as he swept a lock of hair behind his ear. "Surprisingly, you've turned me into a rather dependent creature. I've never felt envy the way I feel when you turn your gaze towards others. I would have it be mine for eternity." And she actually found herself exhaling with relief at the dangerous glimmer that sparked in his eyes just then. Surely there was something wrong with her. "However...if it were ever your wish to welcome another into our bed, I would not oppose it. And, if you should ever desire the affections of another in private, while I would certainly be bothered, I would not stop you then either. It is your right as a Queen of the Underground to take as many lovers as you wish."

"After I have a kid," she said, quickly. Jareth paused, and his grin humbled. She looked anxious. He was glad this topic upset her as much as it did him.

"A technicality."

"I don't envision myself as that type of person," she continued, crossing her arms over her chest and gripping them tightly.

"Neither do I."

Sarah glared at how impassive he sounded.

"You get possessive over the wrong things, you know that?" she asked, irritably, with a matching glare to boot. "I'd kill you if you ever slept with another woman." She spoke with a bit of a snap. This time Jareth did laugh.

"Hm, do you promise?" he asked, and stepped towards her. She took an instinctive step in retreat, but did nothing else as he reached out for her sides. He stared down at her, his head angled sharply as tension built between them. Sarah found herself gulping. It was just too easy. She found her hand reaching out for his chest...

"Is it really okay Jareth?" she asked, angling her head with uncertainty. His grip on her was firm but not intimidating. She bit her lip as she held her eyes to his sternum. "I'm still worried...should we leave? I didn't think Davion was such…"

"You don't have to worry about Davion anymore," Jareth said, and she glanced up. "You're safe here."

"What does that mean? Is he even alive?" she asked and, after sensing the bit of spark that returned to her voice, Jareth released her for good and stepped away.

"Of course he is. He'll recover just fine, as he always does. I have a soft spot for him, remember?"

"Then how do you know he won't pull any more tricks?" She felt less urgency in following him this time, and simply stood there as he began to pull the hem of his shirt from his pants.

"Because he swore it to me, in blood."

Sarah's eyes widened.

"Blood? Like a blood oath?" she asked. Jareth's brow rose in surprise and he glanced at her as he pulled his shirt up and over his head.

"Yes, actually."

"I didn't realize that was a real thing," she said, observing him curiously as he then knelt down to remove his boots.

"Blood magic is one of the oldest and most powerful forms there is. Very much real, even in your world."

"What happens then, if he breaks his oath?"

She waited as he finished removing his boots and stood straight before responding. He was shirtless, bootless, and was now deftly untying the fly of his pants while their eyes remained locked.

"He dies."

"Wha-are you serious?"

"Deadly."

"Jareth-"

He'd turned away from her, which had her reaching out instinctively. He was too candid. He was always too candid when something actually mattered.

"What better way to assure his allegiance?" Jareth said, waving a hand through the air as he spoke. "As I said, you need not fear him nor for your safety here any longer. He will not, cannot, torment you any further."

Sarah found herself stopping dead at the air of dismissal he was directing at her. Her hands were fisting at her sides, but now she only watched as he continued to head towards the bathroom.

"...Okay," she muttered, now upset for a whole new set of reasons. She didn't like this attitude he was giving her, like he wanted to get away. He was always so imposing when it came to her own personal space, so the anomaly of this current moment had her feeling peculiarly insecure. "Where are you going?" she asked. Jareth stopped with his hand on the doorknob and threw her a look over his shoulder. Their eyes did not meet.

"To clean myself up," he said, with aggravation. That only made her frown deepen. He looked worn out. Indeed, he probably was. Maybe she was being inconsiderate… "-and find a way to rescind myself of this rather inconvenient start to the day." And now Sarah glanced to the floor, breaking under the scrutiny of such words. Damn it. She was supposed to be stronger than this.

"Alright…" she said. It was a word that hung in the air, as Jareth realized there were many others she was keeping herself from saying. He brought his gaze to her and frowned at how unsettled she looked. His expression softened and he turned back to face her a little more fully.

"There are some things I'd like to check up on, now that I'm here in person," he said, all trace of annoyance leaving his voice. Sarah looked up. He caught her gaze and gestured towards the door with his eyes. "I've sent for your breakfast. It should be here shortly. I've also sent for the nymph, I believe she mentioned having some things planned for you today." He watched Sarah blink. She looked caught off guard.

"Oh...okay. Will I see you at all?" she asked, trying not to sound disappointed. He had promised it would be just the two of them this weekend...

"I'll be back in the afternoon," he said, and waited for her response. Sarah however, was feeling quite put-off. She recognized his tone and knew, while he might not admit it, that she was becoming an inconvenience to him. Instead she nodded and rolled her eyes as she turned away. She bit her lip when he could no longer see, and walked casually as if she were not bothered at all. She both flinched and sighed in relief when she heard the bathroom door shut behind her. Well damn. That had not gone as expected. At all. A part of her wanted to join him, to wash him, and touch him, and maybe be touched back. That would be nice, she thought. However, she was too apprehensive and thought it better not to press her luck. While he may not be angry with her, Jareth had admitted he was upset and that was arguably worse.

She sat on the end of her bed crossed-legged as she waited for Marie. It was only about another five minutes before her tell-tale knock came at the door.

"Come in," Sarah said. Marie opened the door and was actually ducking down as she peered around it. Her eyes spotted Sarah and her tentative expression turned into a smile.

"Ah. Good morning," she said, and straightened as she entered the room. Sarah saw she held a covered tray in her hands. "I ran into your waiter in the hall, so I thought I'd bring you your breakfast," she explained, closing the door behind her. Sarah smirked. It was small but still genuine, and her eyes fell vacantly on the shiny dome cover as Marie glanced about for a place to set it.

"Oh, thanks...you can just put that on the bed," Sarah said. Marie blinked quizzically, but did not think twice about it before doing as Sarah suggested. She then took a seat on the vanity chair in front of her.

Sarah removed the lid and a waft of sugar and vanilla filled the air. Sarah felt her mouth water a little. God, she loved french toast.

"Have you had anything to eat yet?" Sarah asked. Mariella folded her hands in her lap politely.

"Oh yes. Lord Davion had the most considerate spread sent to my room. All of my favorites." The mention of Davion's name put a tick in her jaw, but Sarah was able to suppress it from turning into a scowl.

"I see...you two seemed to get on well last night," she said, fishing discreetly. Mariella smiled and nodded.

"Indeed, t'was like I never left." Mariella was smiling but Sarah's frown only deepened.

"Have you seen him this morning?" she asked. Mariella shook her head.

"No...I believe he left very early this morning. Or perhaps last night. I'm afraid I can't quite remember," she said, with a sweet little laugh that suggested she was secretly berating herself for it. Sarah directed her scowl down at her plate as she ate. Apparently, if she was reading between the lines correctly, Davion had invaded her dreams _after_ invading Mariella. What a skeev. "And how was your night then?" Sarah peered up at Mariella's question. "You and His Majesty seemed to be in fine spirits when last I spied you. Did you have fun?" Sarah's eyes widened for just a moment as memories of their violent sex-romp in the hall came fervidly to mind.

"I did. For a while anyway." She rolled her eyes back down to her tray, leaving Mariella to gape haplessly.

"Oh dear," she said, all sense of morning cheer falling to dread. "Has something happened? Is that why His Majesty sent for me and is not with you now?" Sarah glanced towards the bathroom door and pointed at it with her fork.

"Pretty sure he's scalding himself in the shower in there, actually," she said, which only had Mariella's look widening with alarm.

"What? But-perhaps then I should-"

"Oh, please, don't worry," Sarah interrupted, waving her off. "I highly doubt we'll see him come out," she said. Knowing Jareth, he'd simply dress and poof away if he hadn't already. She wasn't concerned about an awkward run-in. At least not yet.

Mariella's posture eased only slightly.

"If you insist…" she said, her eyes cautiously glued to the door in question. "May I ask...what's happened? Have you had another argument?" Sarah sighed heavily.

"No, actually. We didn't. For once, it has nothing to do with me and Jareth."

Mariella digested Sarah's words more than she'd intended her to, and after a moment the lightbulb clicked and her brow sagged with worry.

"Oh...has Lord Davion been up to his tricks again?"

Sarah laughed. She had to. Was it really that obvious?

"You could say that."

"Oh, Sarah. I am so sorry-"

"Why? You had nothing to do with it."

"Yes but...forgive me, but I know Lord Davion's nature. I did not suspect…" And her voice trailed off. Sarah eyed her for a moment, fighting off the return of her irritation.

"Yes well, I'd rather not talk about it right now. If that's alright," she said. Mariella blinked, killing the concern Sarah did not seem to need, and pursed her lips.

"Of course."

"Jareth said he's going to be busy for a while, so I figured we could have that girl's day you were talking about," Sarah deflected, trying to make it seem like it had been her idea rather than Jareth's. She did not like being handed off like that. Like she needed a babysitter. She didn't like that she probably did.

"Oh. Oh I see. I'd be delighted. What did you have in mind?" Marie asked. Sarah shrugged.

"That's up to you, I guess. Show me the works."

* * *

After breakfast, Sarah confirmed that Jareth would_ not_ be exiting the bathroom, and decided to take her own shower. She dressed and left with Marie. The castle was much tamer in the morning, as Marie had informed that most residents did not rise until noon. Sarah was not surprised. When she had asked where Marie was taking her, her response had been "the spa" and to this Sarah was surprised.

"This place has a spa? Like an actual spa?"

She wasn't sure why, but that seemed like something far too modern and far too Aboveground a concept. Marie looked at her quizzically.

"Of course there is a spa, silly. We're not barbarians."

Mariella led Sarah deep into the castle's inner-workings. It was darker, damper, and hotter. Actually, it was a little hard to breathe. Sarah found herself gripping her throat as she struggled to adjust to the humidity. Marie however, appeared unaffected.

They arrived outside a set of double doors which opened at their presence, and Sarah was surprised by the room inside.

Everything was made from heavily veined white marble tiles. The stone was slick, well-polished, and created a near-seamless pattern that encompassed the entirety of the space. Somehow the room was well-lit, and that's when she spied a number of circular mirrors positioned in the corners that reflected a hazy beam of light around the room -the origin of which Sarah could not find. They entered and their footsteps echoed. There were a number of fae attendants ilding by, wearing loose white linen. Sarah peered around and saw the walls were lined with chaises, small tables and potted plants set to accommodate each one. In the center of the room was a small rectangular pool. The walls were only slightly raised from the floor, and she could hear the sound of running water as it cascaded down into it on all four sides. She saw a number of doorways on the far wall, and in the center an open archway that led to a hallway -the end of which she could not yet see.

Upon their arrival, the fae stopped whatever they were doing and turned to her. Some of their eyes widened, she noted, just before they bowed. All of them. In unison. _"Your Majesty,"_ they said, again in tandem, and the sound echoed a bit against the walls. Sarah forced a smile. It was definitely going to take some time to get used to that.

"Good morning," she said, greeting them as one. They rose from their positions and looked at her. Like they were waiting. Was she supposed to say something else?

"Your Majesty? Oh gracious me, forgive us, we were not expecting you. Please, how may I assist you this fine morning?" It was a woman who spoke, a curly blonde who stood out from the rest. She wore a long, sleeveless, white tunic that swayed about her ankles. She smiled as she approached, her gaze daring and unlike the rest.

"Oh. Um...I don't know, really," she said awkwardly. The woman was a great deal taller than her, with a warm hue to her skin and hair. Her eyes were a deep misty grey and she looked...familiar somehow.

"Forgive me Candela, t'was I who suggested we come here. It was a bit impromptu," Mariella said, smiling with a cute little shrug. Candela brought her eyes to Marie and smiled in kind.

"No apologies necessary, Mariella," she said, and bowed to The Queen. "My name is Candela, Your Majesty, I manage the spa here at Fort Fyrn." Sarah didn't respond right away, still mulling over the fact that, apparently, Davion's courtesans also had day-jobs.

"Oh. I see. A pleasure to meet you," she said, fighting the instinctive, Aboveground urge to reach out and shake her hand. Candela smiled again and turned, gesturing towards the room.

"The pleasure is ours. What an honor it is to pamper our new queen. We offer many services. Have you any idea which you might like to sample?"

"Um...not really."

"Hm, perhaps a bit of everything then?"

She was smiling at her warmly, though with a trace bit of knowing that Sarah had come to recognize. There was something on her mind, something kept pressed behind the back of her teeth. Sarah wasn't sure what to make of that. Her experience of fae was that they were often high-handed. Maybe Candela was simply being condescending.

"Oh, shall we start with a manicure and pedicure Sarah? And after that a nice, hot-stone massage. Ooh, perhaps then we might stay a spell at the sauna."

Sarah's suspicion of Candela was broken by Marie's excited outburst. She turned and glanced at her, to find she was steepling her hands together in a flurried little clap. Sarah forced away the impending scowl and cracked a grin.

"Whoa, whoa, you guys have mani-pedis?" she asked.

"Of course we do..." Candela answered, letting her eyes rake all over Sarah before she turned back to face her. "...we are not animals."

* * *

Sarah thought her first experience in an Underground spa was surreal; then again, this was her first experience at a spa in general. Karen had offered to take her on more than one occasion in the past, but the idea always made Sarah cringe. She liked Karen, but she wasn't _close_ to Karen. And that bit of mother/daughter bonding-montage seemed an endeavor far too contrived.

But this was nice. Being pampered without fear of sexual assault was nice. They'd had a massage, a nearly non-awkward mani-pedi, did some aromatherapy -that Sarah didn't really understand- and were now relaxing under the lulling tune of a harp and some sort of chunky, possibly magical, assuredly-rejuvenating, facial.

"So Marie…" Sarah said, feeling as though she may drift off to sleep if she didn't. Damn, these people really knew what they were doing. She hadn't felt this relaxed in months. And that harp? Who the hell was playing the harp?

"Yes?" Marie asked. Sarah rolled her head to the side. They were laying on chaises away from the rest. Sarah crossed her ankles as she reached for her drink on the table next to her. She had no idea what it was, but it sparkled.

"How does it all work here…" she started, then took a long sip through a straw. "I mean, everyone here is a courtesan right? And yet you all also have jobs? I don't quite get it." She glanced at her toes. They looked very neat. She and Marie had each traded their clothes for a white fluffy robe and nothing else. It fell to about mid-thigh, which might have worried Sarah had the people in this spa been anything less than pleasantly disinterested in what was beneath it. It was a stark and suspicious contrast to the way she saw, and even recognized, some of them from the previous night.

"Oh. Well, yes. You see, we are a self-sustaining colony," Mariella said, earning Sarah's side-eye. "Lord Davion engages only a few actual servants. The castle and all its facilities are maintained by us, ourselves."

"Oh...and does that...function well?"

"Yes, indeed. We rotate in shifts, you see. One week, I might be working in the kitchens. The next, here in the spa, and so on. The fourth week of rotation we are given off, and made free to enjoy the luxuries we once labored."

Sarah savored the taste of her drink as she mulled this over.

"Hm...interesting."

"However, some of the more long-term courtesans -like Candela- have permanent positions. That is most desireable really. It means we are invaluable to our Lord."

Sarah had to bite back a huff of laughter at that. The tone of Mariella's voice was just...

"Wow, if there could be a more fascist way for a man to show his affection…" she mumbled, sardonically, and shook her head. She was looking away now, and set her drink back on the table. Mariella tilted her head and frowned.

"I see you're still perturbed," she said, and again received a disingenuous smirk from Sarah.

"Heh, that's putting it mildly."

"Are you alright though? Lord Davion, he did not hurt you, did he?" While Sarah seemed dismissive enough, Mariella was still worried. She could only imagine what sort of mischief he had gotten himself into now, and was deeply disappointed it had been at Sarah's expense.

"Huh? No. No…he didn't." And that was a response that surprised her. Mariella's brow furrowed, resisting her own curiosity as best she could.

"Hm...well...please do not think that because of our familiarity that you cannot talk to me about it. I understand My Lord perfectly well, and I daresay I know him better than most. If he offended you, or caused a rift between you and His Majesty, I'd like to help, however I can," she said, and registered a frustrated sigh move through Sarah's posture.

"Thank you Marie, it's just...difficult. I'm not sure I should even be talking about it at all. I'll just say he...crossed a line that should not have ever been crossed. And Jareth...I don't know. I'm worried though," she explained, which was honestly more than Mariella thought she would get out of her. She sat up a little and turned to face Sarah. They were well out of the way of prying ears, but the inch or two of additional privacy seemed necessary.

"He did seem particularly aggressive during dinner. I apologize on his behalf. I think he may be acting out a bit," Marie said. Sarah looked over with a glare.

"Acting out?" she repeated, dubiously. Mariella pursed her lips and gave her a sympathetic look. Sarah was hiding it well but Marie had learned to recognize the nuances of her expression. She was irate. Offended. Most likely with good reason.

"Lord Davion has a manner of…" she started, and bobbed her head as she thought. "...calling for attention when it seems His Majesty is otherwise distracted." Sarah blinked.

"Excuse me?"

"Lord Davion...he is a deeply sentimental creature, deeply emotional," Mariella explained, doing little to soften Sarah's only worsening look of displeasure. "He expresses himself much more freely than I believe His Majesty does. He looks up to his brother, admires and loves him more than anything. I fear he may be feeling a bit jealous of you." -And to that Sarah laughed

"Jealous? Are you serious?" she asked, scoffing and raising her brow high.

"Completely." Mariella took a moment to think, and then leaned towards her a little more. "He would often despair that His Majesty no longer minds him, that he has been forgotten and left to rot in this place. Whenever such moods come to head, he has a tendency to…"

"Act out?"

"Precisely." Mariella smiled but Sarah's expression was its perfect contrast, so she batted her eyes and carried on. "His Majesty has been so attentive of you, Sarah. I imagine witnessing it for himself has put a bit of a sour taste in Lord Davion's mouth."

Sarah glanced away and pursed her lips. Mariella's words, surprisingly, were making sense to her. She wanted to refute it, but she remembered Jareth had said, just last night, that he had spent the majority of his life protecting Davion, watching over him, and doing whatever that must have entailed. Perhaps, at one time, Jareth really was the doting elder brother and Davion the helpless child. Still-

"That's no excuse for what he did," she said, sternly. She was irritated again. So what if Davion was jealous his brother had a new bae? Regardless of what their past relationship might have been, they were by no means children any longer. And that absolutely, in no way, excused what he did.

"No. I'm not trying to justify him, but simply explain his motivations," Mariella said, urging back her attention. She continued once Sarah looked over. "Try to imagine how hurt he must have felt. He learned of your engagement, of your very existence, from a letter out of the blue. He, The King's only brother, had no idea he was planning on marrying, or was even planning on courting to begin with. He had no idea how much you meant to him." She added that last bit for effect and Sarah knew it. Sarah found her eyes glaring just a bit.

"He's not a child. He's almost a thousand years old. Throwing tantrums like one should be well behind him," she lectured. Which was completely beside the fact that the man-child in question had the magical capacity and sexual voracity to cause real, irrevocable, trauma to those he felt slighted by. She could not believe they were even having this conversation.

"We age differently than you, Sarah. It might be our body, it might be our mind, it's hard to distinguish. Lord Davion I feel is...still very much an adolescent. He was abandoned by his parents, and then his brother. He is a terribly lonely thing." Sarah almost gave in to acknowledge there might be a bit of truth to that sentiment. Almost.

"Lonely? Really?" she asked, her tone lowering deadpan. Mariella's expression became sympathetic once more and she gestured to the room around them.

"Why do you think he surrounds himself with all this? With so many people who_ act _as if they love him? Why do you think he indulges in toxins that dull the senses and pleasures that distract the mind? It helps him to forget that loneliness. Though I fear it never leaves him." Sarah narrowed her eyes. Mariella was making too much sense for Sarah's liking. She'd assumed Davion kept so many paramores because he was a slut, a _hedon_ as Jareth had said, and nothing more. She did not want for one second to sympathize with him, even knowing full well what it could be like to live under his brother's scrutiny.

"Why doesn't he leave then? Or isn't he allowed to?"

"He can," Mariella said, with a shrug. "He does. Although...I think he mostly forces himself to stay here. I think he's waiting for His Majesty's blessing to be welcomed back to Court."

"Roldan said they had a falling out. Do you know what happened?" Sarah asked. Imagining Davion putting himself through the tribulation of exile hoping for Jareth to 'forgive' him renewed her curiosity on the subject. And that was 500 years ago. What the hell could have happened between them that would cause such a thing?

"No...My Lord has never told me of that."

The conversation fell dead for a moment as Sarah pondered. She'd been so interested in Jareth and Roldan's pasts, she completely omitted the fact that Davion was there too. How did he fit into that whole dynamic? Did he have insights that differed from Jareth and Roldan? Should/could she ask? No. No. She was supposed to be seethingly angry with him. She would not let herself be drawn in by curiosity. -At least not yet.

"I get wanting attention-" Sarah said, feeling a bit fed up with all of it. "-but I think...if what Davion _really_ wants is to get on his brother's good side, maybe he shouldn't have snuck into my dreams and fucked me in the ass."

Mariella's jaw dropped and she gaped wordlessly as Sarah glanced away. She reached out for her drink and, with total nonchalance, curled her tongue around the tip of the straw and sucked.

* * *

It was well past noon when Sarah and Marie left the spa. It was impossible to tell the time, which had Sarah feeling a bit anxious over when she might see Jareth again. She wondered where he was, what _business_ he was seeing to, and whether or not that was a lie he'd told simply to get away from her. She also thought about Davion and what kind of state he was in. She tried to figure out what would cause blood spatter the likes she saw on Jareth's shirt but only succeeded in disturbing herself.

They were walking down the hall through the open archway Sarah had observed earlier. Apparently, that was the way to the hot spring. And, apparently, leaving without stopping by for a dip was not an option. They were still wearing their robes, though now they each wore the swimsuits Mariella had packed for them underneath. Sarah was thankful she had remembered, knowing it was custom for their kind to swim in the nude.

They were barefoot, and their feet moving against the wet stone of the floor made a scraping sound that echoed from the acoustics of the long, seemingly endless, hallway. Mariella had said that the hot spring was located at the deepest point in the castle, which also meant the hottest. Sarah found herself sweating already, and gave in to loosen the front of her robe and wound back her hair in the effort to breathe more easily. Mariella apologized for the humidity -as if there was anything she could have done about it.

The hallway was constructed differently than the rest of the castle. It was carved from the mountain itself and was left as little more than a raw tunnel. The floor had been smoothed, but there were no tiles, no wooden beams, or stone bricks stabilizing the walls. The torches were brighter here, made of a white fire that Mariella explained was designed to absorb heat rather than emit it. Sarah asked what other places this hallway led to, as they continued to pass doors, one after another, on either side. Saunas, Marie said, some more_ private_ than others.

It was one such door that opened just ahead of them and, to both their surprise, a familiar figure emerged.

Roldan stepped into the hall with a hand clawed over the side of his face. His eyes were closed, and it looked as though he were scowling, as he pushed at the skin of his forehead. He took a deep breath, lowered his hand to grip the towel hung around his neck, turned, and then paled, utterly, when he opened his eyes and saw the two of them standing -and staring- directly in front of him.

Sarah stood there and blinked with a wide, altogether-careless, expression. Roldan was shirtless. He was shirtless, and he was glistening, and he was tanned and -for the first time ever she saw him less than completely composed and she-

"Oh. Hey Roldan," Sarah said, awkward as fuck. She turned her gape to Mariella discreetly, who returned the look in kind. Well, that was a relief at least. It seemed Mariella was just as stunned as her.

Both his hands were gripping the small towel around his neck, and tightened subtly.

"Sarah...Mariella," he said sternly, more sternly than usual, and she wondered if perhaps he was trying to forcibly ignore his possible state of_ indecency_. He was scowling a little, a look she registered far too late as he took a step towards them. Sarah's eyes warred with themselves in desperation_ not_ to look down. He was barefoot and wearing white linen shorts that clung to his thighs with sweat. She knew he was well-built...well, she'd had a pretty good idea but ...Damn.

His arms were flexed and his hair was loose, very much curled, and wet from the air of the sauna. His skin was flushed and, combined with the ambient light, looked darker in complexion than usual. Sarah, now being within arm's reach, could not help but take clear notice of his broad torso and the thick muscle of his chest. There was a sprinkling of dark hair there that traveled down, thinned, and then resumed downward of his navel. His abdominals were disturbingly chiseled. She'd never particularly regarded Roldan as being attractive before -maybe that was why she found herself blinking like an idiot as if he were a mirage.

"Master Roldan! Oh, good day to you!" Mariella said -a little bit too excitedly. "We did not know you were here. Did you enjoy the sauna?" she asked. Sarah shut her open mouth and played it off with a politely unnerved smile.

"I suppose," he said, sounding thoroughly unsatisfied as he ran a hand through his wettened hair. Sarah's jaw tensed. She really, really, wanted him to put a shirt back on. His gesture just then wasn't helping. "Are you ladies heading towards the hot spring?" he asked.

Roldan spoke casually enough, but he was feeling anything but. He wasn't expecting to run into them here. He'd been caught off guard. The moment he'd locked eyes with Sarah, a horrible torrent of panic surged from the pit of his stomach. It was all he could do to remain composed. He forced himself to smile as he spoke to Marie, as he looked at and acknowledged _only_ Marie. He could feel Sarah's eyes on him, inspecting him brazenly.

"Why yes. We are indeed. Say, would you like to join us Master Roldan?"

Sarah turned and shot Mariella an eye, knowing full well from her tone that she was up to no-good. She was wearing that smile of hers, though Sarah had come to recognize the trace sharpness that betrayed her stare in moments such as this.

Roldan quirked a well-sculpted brow and glanced back over his shoulder.

"Not today, I think," he said, dismissively. "Where is Jareth?" He'd asked that reflexively, though immediately regretted it. It meant he'd have to look over at Sarah when she answered.

"I don't know. He said he wanted to check up on some things now that he's here in person," she said. Roldan, eyeing her from his peripheral, observed her more directly once her own gaze cast itself to the side. She shrugged, and the way the open neckline of her robe fell down her shoulders, just an inch, from the movement did not in any way go unnoticed. His eyes, shamefully, and in spite of himself, flickered to the beads of sweat dripping down her cleavage, and he found himself glaring away.

"Interesting," was all he could say. He felt a rock forming in his throat, a seed of revulsion that badgered him with memories of the night before. He saw Sarah standing before him, scantily clad in a white robe, but what he really saw was the back of her head as he pushed it into the mattress, and the curve of her ass as he fucked her from behind. Gods. What was wrong with him?

He realized just how dangerous giving in to Davion's game was. It was one thing to be with Candela. The woman she replaced was dead. This round it was different. Sarah was very much alive and every time he thought to look her in the eye he was met with sickening self-contempt. Perhaps that was Davion's intended punishment all along.

"Did you have a good night?" he heard her ask. He looked at her instinctively, and feared the flash of freight that brightened his eyes had betrayed him. He caught her gaze and froze. Her eyes were so wide and round. So very green. They were nothing like the woman's from last night. When he didn't immediately respond, Sarah continued with a follow-up question. "I didn't see you after Davion's song. I hope he wasn't bothering you, too."

And then Roldan's brow drew, some of his fear quelling at the slight recognition he saw in her gaze.

"Too?" he repeated, curiously. Sarah pursed her lips and bit her cheek. He'd asked that with a level of perception she wasn't expecting. What the fuck was she supposed to say?

Thankfully, Mariella took pity on them both.

"Yes. You were there, remember? Stirring up trouble with mention of His Majesty's song?" she said, flicking a finger at him as if he were a silly little thing. Roldan blinked and, contrary to his expression, accepted her words at face value. He took a step back and angled himself out of their way.

"Ah. Of course," he said and berated himself internally. Just what was he thinking exactly? That Davion would pull the same stunt with her? He needed to be more on guard, to get ahold of himself, and fast, lest he find himself flogged. "I believe you'll have the pools to yourselves. I haven't heard anyone coming or going." -A statement that had Sarah wondering just how long he had been sitting in that sauna and, more curiously, why. He was absolutely drenched in sweat, and when he'd exited he'd looked...very much bothered.

"Excellent," Mariella said, and took Sarah by the hand. "Shall we then?"

Mariella led Sarah away, briskly, with a secret little smile on her face. She spied on Roldan from over her shoulder as she pushed Sarah towards the door at the end of the hall, but he was already looking away. Poor thing, she mused.

The tick in Roldan's jaw finally revealed itself once they were out of sight, and he turned his head away. His hands fisted at his sides as he fought back a sneer. He was being stupid again. Last night was meant to work her out of his system, not make his attraction worse.

With no better place to hide, he re-entered the seclusion of the sauna. He leaned against the door as he shut it behind him, and sagged in frustration as the steam bore down. It was difficult to see. The room was a haze. His fist gripped the knob tightly.

He'd initially sequestered here in the hope of expelling such frustrations, though it seemed after one mundane exchange that he was far from purified. He leaned his head back against the door and scowled. The heat and the humidity made it hard to breathe, and his chest rose high on a laboured breath. His hand reached down. He scowled harder. Her provocative appearance just now felt like divine fate, choosing now of all moments to condemn him eternally. She was practically naked. She was wet. She was staring him in the eye. His hand gripped harder.

He groaned as sweat beaded on his brow. The temperature of the room was rising considerably, the moisture in the air making his movements slick and audible. He felt disgusting, succumbing to his baser needs like a pathetic animal. He grimaced as he jerked himself harder, and came begrudgingly as his knees buckled and he staggered a few inches down the wall.

His chest heaved, his lungs deprived of oxygen under the stifling humidity, and he swallowed hard. He withdrew his hand from his pants and sagged down to the floor. This was ridiculous. Asinine.

He ran an angry hand through his hair, gripping his scalp to the point of pain, and groaned. He'd told himself he was better than this. He'd told himself it would be just once. That he would think of her only once. As he looked down over himself, he acknowledged his own efforts were working against him. And it was neither Davion nor Sarah's fault.

He exhaled roughly and tried to clear his head. She was just a woman. Just an irritating, foul-mouthed, impudent, girl-child. A child who did not think before she spoke. Who spoke more honestly than anyone he'd ever known.

* * *

"Well that was just plain uncanny," Sarah said, _after_ the door to the hot spring closed behind them. It was a loud sound, a boom really, that echoed throughout the space. Mariella turned, her hands still pressed on the handle, and positively beamed.

"Oh my goodness, I know!" she gushed, keeping the volume of her voice in check. "I imagined he had a bit of something going on beneath all those clothes of his but, gosh. He's so robust. I might actually swoon!" Mariella fanned herself with her hand dramatically and Sarah laughed.

"Mariella are you serious?" she asked, with amusement. Mariella smiled wide and turned away from the door.

"Do you not have eyes, Sarah?" she asked, her smile curling devilishly. Sarah laughed again. She couldn't help it.

"Yes. Yes I do," she said. "I'll admit, I was thrown for a loop. A body like that does not match his personality at all," she said, cutting the air with a hand as she and Marie stepped into the room. Before Marie could respond, she looked up and all around.

Their current surroundings were vast and surprisingly well-lit. It was about the same dimension as the vestibule they'd arrived in, with a ceiling just as tall -though the lighting revealed a rather lovely sexpartise vault. The stone was carved and slate-grey, and recessed from the walls were large, curved, niches that housed massive metal cauldrons that burned the same white flame as in the hall. There were eight of them spanning around the room, and she imagined it was because of these that the room was actually a great deal cooler and less humid than out in the hall. On the floor before them spanned an array of irregularly sized and shaped pools. There were a couple dozen of them. Some small enough for a single person, and others large enough for ten or more. The pane of the water brimmed as little bubbles simmered their way towards escape, and a faint hue of steam blurred the space just above. The smell of salt was strong, nearly off-putting, but she acclimated to it quickly.

"Ah, but a body like that may very well make up for such shortcomings," Mariella said. Sarah glanced back with a cocked grin.

"Marie, are you actually aroused right now?" she asked, beside herself. She was trying not to laugh, as that question very plainly did not need to be answered. Mariella's eyes widened and she raised a hand to her heart as if offended.

"Aroused? Sarah, of course I am. We've been living in that stiff castle for how long and I have only just now learned of this? I know I said I was teasing before but perhaps I really should extend an invitation…"

"Wait. You're serious, aren't you?"

"Should I not be?" Mariella's eyes were intense, her ongoing sense of surprise only feeding her _stimulation_. Sarah had never seen her like this over a man. It was comical, and yet Sarah would agree that she did have a point. The fae males she'd been up close and personal with had rather lean figures. While Sarah had learned long ago that this was indeed her type, it was hard to refute the other end of the spectrum -which apparently was Roldan, who, under different circumstances, could have easily passed for a lumberjack.

"I mean...Hell, you do you, I guess. It's just...Roldan," she said, blinking in disconcertion. Mariella pursed her lips and nodded.

"Hm yes...you do have a bit of a point. I am just very much excited. Can you imagine his work-out regimen?"

"Regimen?" Sarah repeated. She watched as Marie moved off to the side, to a bench along the wall where she now removed her robe.

"Well, you don't think he came about all that muscle by genetics alone do you?" she asked, teasingly. Sarah rose her brow and moved to join her, tugging at the belt of her robe as she pondered

"I uh...hadn't thought about it too deeply, I guess."

"Quite. I suppose it matters naught. Master Roldan is far too principled to lower himself with the likes of me anyway," Mariella said, which had Sarah scowling. Those words coming out of her mouth did not make any sense, especially not when she was standing practically naked and looking so statuesque and perfectly exotic with all those swirling markings that happened to lead the eye dangerously around the finer points of her contour.

"Lower himself? I thought you are considered higher stationed than him now?" she responded. Mariella shrugged, subconsciously taking Sarah's robe from her hand and setting it on the bench next to hers.

"Yes, but I am still a courtesan. Not all agree with such a custom. I fear Master Roldan might be one such fae."

"Hm, his loss then, I guess." They both turned and started walking towards the pools. Mariella leaned in close and gave her wink.

"I'll let you know if I strike out," she said, her eyes twinkling in a naughty way. Sarah recoiled at the thought.

"Please don't."

To Marie's credit, the hot spring was in fact pretty effing great. Sarah wasn't sure why, as it was little more than a simmering bath; but something about it made her feel invigorated. Was it the steam? The fumes? She thought to ask, but not right away. She felt herself relaxing immensely, and sighed deeply as the morning's frustrations just drifted away. It was quiet, except for the low hum of bubbles vibrating around them. She would spy on Marie every few minutes. She was drifting around the pool and the way her skin changed colors so dramatically still amazed her. She thought it might be rude to stare, so she kept her eyes closed as she reclined, but the temptation kept resurfacing. She was just so pretty.

They were there for a while but, curiously, her skin had not yet pruned. Marie had asked if she wanted her to fetch them some drinks, and Sarah was about to reply when a door at the other end of the room suddenly opened.

Sarah and Marie paused and looked to the right. They had been the only one's there, and to Sarah the intrusion felt like one of alarm. Such worry was immediately confirmed when they saw who exactly was entering the room.

Davion appeared, wearing nothing but a towel held with a hand at his hips. He was looking down, lost in thought, as he closed the door behind him. Neither Sarah nor Marie spoke to him and, as he moved further into the room towards them, was plainly unaware of their company. Sarah frowned and sank a little lower into the water.

He walked to stand at the brim of a pool close to theirs, the edges of which connected the two just across from her. Marie drifted back to Sarah's side, wary of how Sarah would react. They both watched as Davion ran a hand through his hair -his braid now loose and tousled- and then cast out his hand as he tossed away the towel.

Sarah managed to suppress her instinctive "_eep!"_ and glared away just in time. Goddamn. She was not a voyeur. Even in her dream she never had to actually look _down there_. She failed, however, to prevent the little splash of water that such a reaction had caused.

Davion peered over just as his hips sank beneath the water and a weak smile stretched across his face.

"Oh. Hello again," he said, his smile becoming a little more genuine. Sarah, blaming her blush on the heat of the water and nothing else, glared back at him _only_ once she was sure he was decent. "Forgive me," he added, placing a hand over his heart. "I didn't realize anyone else was here."

Sarah crossed her arms and shrugged.

"It's fine. This is your castle after all," she said, with a flippant wave. Mariella was frowning now too. It seemed, much too readily, that Sarah's earlier frustration had returned.

"It's not actually," he said, and she could not help but glance back at him. "It's my brother's castle. Which, I suppose, makes it yours now as well."

Sarah bit her cheek but was otherwise unable to convey any more annoyance. His tone was appeasing, much too gentle. She wanted to continue their argument from earlier, though it seemed they were well beyond it. She turned to face him a little more and watched as he lowered himself into the water. While he had initially turned to face her, she noted how he was still somewhat angled away, intentionally perhaps. He winced as his back hit the water's surface, and to that Sarah scowled.

"Are you alright?" Sarah asked. She caught the flash of a smile move across his face as he glanced away.

"Of course," he said, lightheartedly, though both Sarah and Marie could sense he was biting through those words.

"What did Jareth do to you after I left?" she asked, ignoring the way Mariella turned to look at her as she spoke. Davion's response was another quick curl of the lips as he exhaled heavily through his nose. He seemed tense, in pain even. She didn't see any marks on him when he was standing at the ledge…

Davion reached back and stroked his hands down his braid, pulling it to drape over his left shoulder -the shoulder facing them- and then lowered even further into the water up to his shoulders. She noted he kept his head held in strict profile.

"Why don't you take a guess," he said, deadpan. He would not bring his eyes to her now, an observation that had a new scowl slowly forming on her brow.

"Marie," Sarah said, and glanced over. "Why don't you work on those drinks we were talking about?" she suggested. Mariella nodded, taking the hint, and moved to give them some privacy.

"Of course...My Lord Davion, would you like anything?" she asked. Davion tilted his head back, his eyes very briefly screwing shut as an uncomfortable shudder had him rolling his shoulders.

"Wine I suppose," he said. Mariella left and Sarah's eyes trailed after her until she was on the other side of the room. Apparently there was a bar here. Always convenient.

Sarah sat quietly in her spot for a moment, and then gave in to the curiosity and moved towards him a few feet.

"Jareth said he punished you," she said, not quite whispering. Davion opened one eye and peered at her. Her gaze was much too daring and he questioned whether or not to take advantage of such lowered defenses.

"Jareth says a lot of things," he muttered and watched her scowl. He drifted towards her then, to the edge of stone that separated their two pools. He turned to face her fully as he leaned forward, crossed his arms along the rim, and rested the side of his head against them.

Sarah's eyes widened and she moved towards him in an impulsive little lunge.

"Davion, your face!" she said, worry and fright unmasked in both her tone and expression. It made Davion smile, fully, an expression that then twitched with pain as he forced it away.

"I know. I really am something to behold, aren't I?" he asked, playing it off with sarcasm. Sarah frowned deeply and moved towards him a little more. Davion was surprised by this, having expected her to keep as wide a proximity from him as possible.

"Shut up. In case you haven't noticed, you have a huge slash on your face. That needs stitches. Did Jareth do that?" she asked, and he laughed at the matronly air she exuded just then. She was worried about him? Really? Why?

Doing so much smiling had reopened the clots keeping the right side of his face reasonably clean, causing dark streams of blood to trickle down his cheek and into the water. He ignored the sting. The concern he saw in Sarah's face made it worth it.

"Of course he did," Davion said, angling his head away from her as if he were sparing her the sight of him. "Why do you look so worried Sarah? Was this not what you wanted?"

"Of course not," she said, sternly, which earned a peripheral stare. She saw skepticism in his eyes, however faint. "I don't agree with the way your kind punishes one another," she affirmed. Davion shrugged.

"It's really not so bad," he said and glanced over to Marie. She was keeping busy but all knew it was a pretense. "I've been dealt far worse."

"From Jareth?" Sarah asked. Davion eyes shot back at her.

"From many."

Sarah's eyes narrowed and he could tell from the way she pursed her mouth that she was biting the inside of her lip.

"I suppose then you knew exactly what you were asking for when you invaded my dream last night," she said, accusingly. Davion rolled his eyes.

"Undoubtedly."

"Davion...that's…" He wasn't sure what he heard in those words: worry, judgement, disgust? Regardless, he ignored it and relaxed a little further into the water.

"Well worth it," he finished for her. Sarah's scowl became a glare.

"Excuse me?"

"I found our playtime to be well worth it. Actually, I was disappointed with how lacking Jareth was in vigor this morning. He's usually much more enthusiastic when it comes to making things bleed." He let the last word roll off his tongue in a provocation that had Sarah thinking back to the last time she'd seen Jareth's shirt spattered with blood.

"Davion, your cheek is sliced clean through. I can see that from here. You call that unenthusiastic?" she asked, ridden in disbelief. Davion leaned up and sighed. Such a tone made him wonder if she had any idea to whom she was married to.

"Yes," he said, plainly, and turned away just slightly. Sarah's eyes caught sight of the flush of pink skin rounding his ribs, and angled herself to get a better look at his back. She realized he was keeping it from her; that, until now, he did not want her to see it. Her eyes widened when she saw the hint of deep red lashes spidering down his spine.

"Davion what the fuck," she said, appalled. Davion paused and realized he wasn't quite paying attention. So she had finally noticed? Oops. He turned a little further for her to see and looked back over his shoulder.

"Ah. Yes."

Sarah blinked in stupefaction at the complete nonchalance of Davion's reaction. She moved to a different spot in the pool, closer to him, and at an angle where she could see him completely. His back was covered, COVERED, in deep, swollen, bleeding gashes. The surrounding skin was inflamed and a bright, painful looking, red. She'd never seen anything like it. She couldn't...she didn't want to imagine…

"Jareth did that to you? Are you serious?" Her question was full of doubt but they all knew otherwise. For all the abuse Jareth had put her under, he'd never come close to something like this. He'd threatened it, but seeing it now on someone else brought a new kind of awareness to her. Everyone always said Jareth went easy on her, that he was uncharacteristically merciful, and she...should she be feeling grateful right now?

Davion shrugged and turned back around. From the rise in her voice, he figured she'd seen enough.

"You sound absolutely horrified," he said, smiling at her on the side that was not injured. "And here I was thinking he went very much easy on me." Sarah's look of abhorrence only worsened; so, while he was enjoying it greatly, he thought it would be better to put her at ease sooner rather than later. "It's been a long time since I've been lashed. I was actually looking forward to it," he said, and glanced away with a shrug. "However, to my dissatisfaction, he did not even finish a full set. He seemed put off by it somehow. That would not, perchance, be your influence rubbing off on him, would it?" Sarah's aghast expression became dubious as Davion spoke. What in the fuck?

"What do you mean, you were looking forward to it?" she asked. Davion glanced back at her and tilted his head low as he gave her a very knowing eye.

"I enjoy my brother's exertions. Genuinely. It's the only time he pays me any attention anymore," he said, which struck Sarah deeply and disturbed her even more. Mariella's words came back to her in a most haunting way. She could not fathom what he was saying, that he would really go to such lengths merely to feel...to feel what? Close to Jareth?

"Davion that's...I'm sorry, I can't-"

"I'm also a general masochist. That is the term for such things in your world no?" he was quick to inform. Sarah shut her mouth and just stared at him. He was back to leaning against the ledge and now trailed his fingers absently along it.

"I...didn't know that," she said awkwardly.

"Yes...I find myself becoming bored very easily. It takes a great deal to effectively stimulate me these days. Enjoying pain...is also a very beneficial survival mechanism in this world. It makes one's attackers…"

"Put off?" Sarah asked, repeating his own words. Davion cracked another grin.

"Exactly."

"So Jareth going easy on you, as you say, has nothing to do with me then." Her tone was level and she stared at him intently. This was all very strange and alarming to her. She was trying to take it in stride.

"I'd say it has everything to do with you, dear. You're turning him into quite the doormat."

"Ha. Yeah, okay." She responded impulsively, but Davion's expression did not reflect her skepticism. In fact, he was looking at her very seriously. His eyes scanned over her for fault.

"You seem unscathed. I think that only proves my point." She registered his tone and found the smile waning from her face. It seemed he really had expected Jareth to administer some form of discipline on her as well. Her eyes darted away, feeling suddenly self-conscious for being perfectly fine.

"He feels you are the sole responsible party in all this," she explained, dismissively. Davion continued to stare at her, at the fierce look in her eye and the determination she had not to expose to him any more sympathy.

"Hm, indeed," he muttered, turning away from her, as he pushed back from the ledge. "But...to be honest, it really was unexpected. I antagonized him greatly and still he let me go. He seemed greatly dissatisfied. I have never seen him that way, before knowing you." His tone was coaxing, drawing back her attention against her better judgement.

"How often does he punish you, exactly?" she asked. Her arms were still crossed over her chest, but she'd turned to face him again.

"Not often. Not anymore," he said, and rolled his shoulders again in discomfort. "When we were young however, I had a habit of getting myself into trouble. He would often assume responsibility and take our father's punishments meant for me. I feel I may have abused such selflessness...a bit too often. When our father caught on, he instead forced Jareth to execute his punishments for him before punishing Jareth himself. And I cannot say my brother would do so without a genuine bitterness towards me. He was angry that I'd forced us into such a position. But in the end, he taught me the art of self-preservation. He taught me how to enjoy it, he taught himself to enjoy it, and helped me to use such a demeanor to my advantage. I suppose...it's since become genuine." Sarah was surprised he was so readily forthcoming, and stared at him blankly as he rambled on. Apparently Mariella wasn't lying when she'd said he was more expressive than Jareth. He was staring up at the ceiling, tilting his head from side to side, as he waded in the pool.

"Oh. Oh I...never would have thought...Jareth would volunteer to be punished." -or that he would force himself to enjoy it. Was all his aggression just learned behavior? A defense mechanism as Davion described? She wasn't sure...wasn't sure if she was willing to write him off like that.

"Quite. And let me say, for the record, the marks you see here are but a tickle compared to what our father put us through."

"I'm surprised you can talk about this so easily. I don't know if Jareth would have ever told me that," she said and shook her head. Davion glanced over and gave her a rather sympathetic look.

"No, imagine not. He does not like to talk about our father. Even now."

"And yet you put up his painting outside our bedroom door."

Davion grinned. His eye twitched when he did it, but he couldn't stop himself.

"Heh, I know. I couldn't resist. He was lucky I didn't hang it above your bed." He was amused with himself, which had Sarah's eyes widening in incredulity.

"Why do you provoke him like that? Jesus, Davion…" Her voice cut off, unable to understand why the hell he would knowingly put himself in such dangerous positions. She understood Jareth's exasperation now. She even...if she were a little less self-righteous...would have said Jareth's behavior towards him had been somewhat justified.

"I told you, it's the only way he notices me."

Sarah shot him a glare.

"I doubt that. You could try being a responsible, trustworthy, less-than-insufferable, halfway-decent person."

Davion held her glare but was plainly unaffected by it.

"Hm...no." And he turned away from her flippantly. "I don't mind being on the receiving end of my brother's darker urges. It's how we have always been. And besides, you've only just arrived. You have no idea how lonely it can be." Sarah found herself blinking as his words cut through her irritation. "At some point you may find yourself reaching for the ones you love by _any means _necessary," he continued, glancing over briefly, and then casually splashed some water over his face. "To be seen by another person is a privilege not to be taken for granted. From the look on your face, it seems you have no problem seeing Jareth for who he really is. And I know he has done nothing but regard you since the moment you met." If she didn't know any better, she might think he was lecturing her. She stared at him with a terse expression.

Somehow, he'd segued the conversation to something a lot more serious and no longer about him. She recalled a time when Jareth had spoken about the superficial nature of Court, about how suffocating and lifeless he found it. He claimed that made them untrustworthy and that was the reason he never held his own. She pondered what Davion meant by_ being seen_, and again something Jareth once said to her echoed in the back of her mind: _If you have ever wished to know the reason I show you my darkest sides, it is so I can say that regardless of it all, you knew me honestly._

Sarah frowned. For the first time in however long, Jareth wanted someone to know him. The real him. And he didn't care, or was at least willing to accept, that she might hate him for it. What made her sad was that he considered his _darkest sides_ to be his most authentic. But they weren't. She knew that. She'd always known that. The pretense was not as it seemed, and that was why she was unable to hate him; even at times when she had absolutely every right to, when it became unbearable, and broken, and wrong. Yes, she saw him for who he really was. It was Jareth himself who was blind.

"And what do you see Davion?" she asked, playing into whatever trap he was trying to set. He rolled his eyes back to her.

"I see a girl conflicted over the fact that she's in love with a man she'd rather hate. I also see my brother who, having always hidden behind what he thought was the most appropriate veneer, is not quite as lonely as he used to be." And now her frown deepened, his words hitting her in a way she wasn't sure he had intended them to. "Jareth feels...encumbered. It has always been him against the world. That is why I do not mind that he is harsh with me. Not many realize it but, in the end, he is always harder on himself."

His gaze was cast at the water as ripples radiated outward in reaction to his movements. He looked distracted, childlike, as he pouted at his own reflection. Sarah felt rather melancholy then. It seemed this new, highly-dysfunctional, family of hers were left isolated and tormented by the unspoken grudges they held against one another. A place for the lost and the lonely indeed.

"Davion...what happened between you?" she asked.

"Hm?" he responded, and peered up as if he'd forgotten she was there.

"Back then. It's obvious to me that Jareth cares for you and you him. I just...want to know how you ended up here."

"Ah...that is a simple question to answer. I let him down."

"What?

Davion turned and waded through the water as he moved a little closer to her.

"I have always supported him, when no one else would. He depended on that in a way I never realized until it was too late. There came a time when he needed my support and I...could not give it."

"I don't understand."

"It's not that I would not. I wanted to, more than anything. I simply was not...capable of it," he said, and winced at the memory. Sarah found that curious. "Jareth viewed this as a betrayal. I fear he's never looked at me the same since. Our tension grew after our mother died...It seemed she had been the only thing holding us all together and, as he began to feel the weight of his crown...eventually I realized that if I wanted any manner of relationship with him, I needed to remove myself. My presence in our home was only a reminder that my faith in him was lacking. So I came here." He raised his hands to gesture around the room. "We are better than we were then. At least there is that. I would however...like to go home one day." There was a sorry smile on his face as he said that. Sarah felt another tug on her brow. "I'm sorry for all the trouble. Really, it's had nothing to do with you." His eyes locked on hers were somewhat earnest, and she imagined that was the closest thing she was going to get to a real apology. The imminent look of sympathy faded from her face to be replaced with one of stone.

"I'm not ready to forgive you yet, but I appreciate it," she said, and shrugged. Her eyes had rolled away, and she pressed her tongue to her cheek as she mulled something over. "Jareth told me about the blood oath," she said, genuinely surprising him. He tilted his head to one side as he watched her.

"Did he? I was wondering why you approached me so fearlessly. Yes. It seemed necessary."

His tone had gone back to its usual pleasantry, causing Sarah to peer over at him suspiciously.

"I feel like I should...thank you or something. Staking your life like that is...a really big deal."

"You are a really big deal."

"Excuse me?" she asked, the offense she took from his back-talk falling dead as he then winced painfully. His back arched a little and he sneered as he shivered away the pain. Sarah watched him and just felt...confused. "Why don't you just heal yourself?" she asked. Davion forced a smirk and submerged himself back into the water.

"Because this is the punishment," he said, and sighed deeply as the pain subsided. "Healing my wounds immediately after the fact would defeat the whole purpose of inflicting them. I must allow them to heal naturally, however long that takes." A hand rose from the water and gently touched his cheek, and he grinned. "Well...the ones on my back anyway. I'll probably heal my face the moment you both return south. Be a dear and don't tell him, would you?" He was back to playful and it did not sit well with her. This man was impossible to gauge, even more so than Jareth. The way he phased in and out of serious conversation left her skeptical of her own confidence. Her eyes flickered over him, over the pool he was in that was now surely diluted with blood.

"Well isn't...isn't it a bit um...unsanitary? Soaking in the communal hot spring like that?" she asked. Davion rose one brow and glanced down.

"On the contrary, sanitation was the reason I came here in the first place. The waters have natural healing properties, of rejuvenation if you will. They are also self-cleaning. You'll find no unwanted bacteria here."

"Oh," she said, and tried not to sound too concerned when she asked, "Does it hurt?"

"A bit."

"Are you...enjoying it?"

The mix of revulsion and intrigue he heard in those words had him smiling again. She was such a human. A very typical kitten. That curiosity would get her in trouble one day...

Feeling a new stream of blood coating his cheek, he doused himself with water again to wash it away.

"More and more."

Sarah said nothing to that right away. He was mocking her and she felt foolish for bothering to feel concerned for his well being at all. She glanced to the water, to her own sorry reflection, as she wondered what it might be like should everyone just get along.

"You know-" she started, sounding bored and so very tired of it all. "-If you want to come home...maybe you should have actually befriended me and I might have helped you. I am after all, according to you, turning him into a doormat." Davion's smile widened and he found himself actually stifling a laugh. She looked vaguely irritated again, and he had to admit that even that was an expression that suited her. He didn't understand what about her had brought his brother to his knees, but she was definitely intriguing.

"Hm... It seems we're all a bit self-sabotaging, constantly underestimating the first human Queen of Goblins," he said, giving an impish bounce to the title. Sarah peered over, her eyes narrowed but with the faint hint of a smirk ghosting her lips.

"Well, at least you caught on faster than Jareth."

* * *

Sarah went back to her room without Marie. It was well into the afternoon, and the rather sobering conversation she'd had with Davion was making her pensive and not much fun. She was still wearing her robe, but she was feeling a bit more comfortable in this castle-away-from-home, and no longer cared if anyone happened to see her in it. She entered the bedroom to find it empty. She frowned, hoping she would have come across Jareth by now.

With a sigh, she went to the armoire in which the goblins had unpacked her clothes. Maybe after she changed she should go back to Marie…

She untied the belt of her robe and was starting to pull it down her shoulders when the door opened once again. She peered over, and her expression mirrored Jareth's as he looked at her with surprise.

"Hi," she said awkwardly, then glanced down over herself, remarking on the rather lewd image she must be presenting. She was wearing her black bikini beneath her robe, something Jareth had not yet seen. She covered herself up a little, watching him as he closed the door and stepped towards her.

"You were at the spring, I see," he said, seeming to ignore her apparel in a most uncharacteristic way. While she should have been glad, it actually had her feeling greatly discouraged. Was he still bothered from this morning? His tone seemed pleasant enough.

"Ah...yeah. Marie took me to the spa and we went there afterwards," she explained, choosing to now cover herself, and re-tied her belt. Jareth's eyes flickered down at her as she did this, though he said nothing. There was a break in the conversation, and she took the moment to run her own eyes up and down his front.

He was dressed in a way she did not see him often -full regalia from cape to boot. He wore a heavy, midnight-blue, velvet cape that shone and sparkled, capped with a wide brim of fur that was nearly the same shade of blonde as his hair. He wore a thick, charcoal-grey coat embroidered with filigree and leather accents, with shiny black buttons leading down the front. His pants and boots were black; though she noted they were not his usual either, but well insulated -his boots more robust and with thicker tread. The additional fabric at his shoulders made him appear broader, which was something that was already putting her at a disadvantage. He looked very warm, very large, and very handsome. She wondered where he had been that required him to dress like that.

"I see," he said, and placed a hand on his hip. Sarah darted her eyes away nervously.

"I...saw Davion there," she said, and peered back to glimpse the ghost of a frown on his face. "I saw...what you did," she added, warily. She could feel Jareth's aura darkening, though that wasn't where she wanted this to go… "I think Davion has a lot of issues," she said, turning to face him fully. "I think you need to talk to him more." Jareth's look pulled a complete 180. His brow rose and he actually cracked a smirk.

"Really?" he asked, mockingly. Sarah scowled in disappointment.

"I'm still not happy that you brutalized him, but I admit I am a foreign perspective on what is clearly a very convoluted dynamic going on between the two of you."

"Convoluted?" he repeated. Sarah exhaled through her nose.

"Yes. Hence why I think you need to properly communicate. I think you would both benefit." She watched as he lowered his head and looked away from her. He was grinning, but it didn't reach his eyes.

"I'll bear that in mind," he said, taking a haphazard step towards her. Sarah stood her ground.

"Please do. I'm getting rather tired of becoming collateral damage." She let her eyes linger on him a moment longer and then looked away. She was feeling a bit on edge and used the contents of her open armoire as a distraction. Jareth was closer to her now, leaning a hip against a dresser as he stared at her. "So, are you done with your business?" she asked.

"Yes."

She eyed him shrewdly at his clipped tone.

"Was it to your satisfaction?"

"Yes."

And now her eyes narrowed. There was amusement behind that word. He was still staring at her, his arms crossed over his chest and his eyes not quite meeting hers.

"Great."

She looked away and scowled at her closet. He was being vague and calculating and she really was not in the mood for it. Maybe he was just picking on her, but she couldn't tell. Her hands were gripping the edge of the doors with mild frustration as she debated what to say to him next.

"Are you going to get dressed?"

Sarah looked over in surprise.

"For what?" she asked. His question was baited -she recognized it in his tone. He tilted his head as he straightened and glanced down over himself.

"I thought that obvious. I promised to take you outside, remember?" When his eyes rose back to hers they came with a quirked brow. Sarah pursed her lips, for some reason doubtful that he was keeping to their original plans. At least his attire made sense.

"Oh...okay," she said, unsure of herself, and turned back to the closet. It was filled with everything Marie had put together for her, already sorted into complete outfits. She reached for a heavy velvet gown and draped it over her arm. It was the same shade of blue as his cloak, though she would never admit she'd put that kind of consideration into the choice. She stepped away and laid it out over the bed, then moved around him to the dresser he once leaned against. He took a step to the side as she yanked open a drawer. "Um...could I have some privacy?" she asked, not quite knowing why she bothered. Jareth lowered his eyes to her hand, noting the apprehensive manner the tips of her fingers traced along her underthings.

"Why?" he asked, to which she had no answer. She'd given up on modesty with him some time ago, though she supposed, now, it was the rocky ground they stood on that had her feeling insecure. She bit her lip but dismissed his question, simply keeping her eyes away from him as she tossed a bra and a pair of underwear on the bed.

She turned away from him, stepped towards the bed with her back to him, and removed her robe. A part of her was feeling suggestive, hoping the sight of her would spark his interest and they could fuck the awkwardness away as they so often did. However, even as her robe hit the floor and she reached behind to untie the knot at her back, he did not move. She pulled the limp top from herself and dropped it to the floor, using the moment to steal a sly glance back at him. He was watching her, intently, as he always did, but whatever he might have been thinking or feeling was left barred behind a perfectly-steeled expression. Maybe she wasn't being forward enough. Maybe she should just come onto him directly.

She let her bottoms slide down her legs next and stood casually in the buff as she took her time in replacing them with black and very racy underwear. She heard the shuffle of fabric as Jareth resituated his crossed arms, but that was all. She almost frowned. Why did she want him to make the first move so badly?

She put on her bra and decided, very quickly, not to bother with seducing him. She was glad enough he'd come back for her at all.

The outfit Sarah had picked was not exactly a gown in a traditional sense, but a proper snowy ensemble. It came with thick, insulated leggings which she _nimbly _slid up her legs. They were high-waisted, which accentuated the curve of her ass and she made damn well sure Jareth got full view of it as she turned and reached over the bed for her tunic. It was beige, sleeveless, and tucked neatly into the hem of her pants. She pulled on her socks next, in as sexy a manner as possible, then turned for the gown.

It was heavy and sagged in her hands as she pulled it open to snake her arms into the sleeves. She wasn't sure what the proper term for it was, if it was a gown or coat; regardless, it was form fitted with a skirt that belled all the way to the floor. The hem of the cuffs and skirt were lined with blonde fur similar to Jareth's cloak, though hers was flicked with tufts of black. There were two rows of buttons, inner and outer, so no cold would seep through. The first started at the hip and continued all the way to the well of her throat. There was fur around her collar too. It was soft, ticklish almost.

She continued to keep her eyes away from him as she stepped back to the closet and pulled out a pair of boots. They were black, imprinted with filigree, and rose to the knee. In her pockets she found leather gloves, oddly matching Jareth's own she noted, and pulled them on deftly. She stared at her hand for a moment, getting the uncanny feeling that -for the first time ever- she actually felt very much a Goblin Queen.

She was distracted by her musing, and didn't realize Jareth had moved from his spot to stand behind her.

She flinched when a cloak of her own was suddenly draped over her shoulders. She glanced to the side as Jareth's hands lingered there, holding gently and then drifting away as he moved to stand in front of her. The cloak was black, she noted, with a hood, and nestled nicely beneath her furry collar. Jareth's eyes were low on her, and she realized it was because he intended on buttoning for her. His hands reached for her throat, and she heard the quiet snap as Jareth fitted it into place. She tried not to lick her lips. They had been so quiet. She wanted him to look at her.

"Are you ready?" he asked, and she blinked from her daze.

"Yeah...I suppose," she said, her eyes now lively and scouring his face. He had yet to look her directly in the eye and it bothered her like nothing else. Instead he turned and laced her arm with his.

"Let's be on then."

Jareth led her out into the hall, though she was hesitant to ask where they were going. She assumed he would take her to the main gate, she remembered where that was at least, but he didn't. Instead it seemed he was leading her deeper into the castle. They went up several floors, walking side by side in what appeared to be contented silence. Sarah held onto him a little tighter than necessary, feeling more and more insecure with the distance she felt between them. After a while, she could bear the silence no longer and gave in to question him after entering a very narrow, spiral stairwell.

"Where are we going?" she asked. Jareth looked ahead, as he had been, his expression impassive.

"The highest point in the castle," he replied. Sarah peered around.

"Why?"

"You said you wanted the full effect."

She said nothing to that, and merely lowered her gaze as they continued to climb the stairs. They went higher and higher, to the point where Sarah's legs were starting to fatigue. The air changed dramatically as they ascended, losing all trace of humidity, and the temperature dropped steadily with each step.

When they reached the top of the stairwell, there was nothing but a single door awaiting them. Jareth paused, turned to her, and for the first time that afternoon met her in the eye.

"You may want to brace yourself. It's probably going to be windy."

It seemed the lock of their gazes was acknowledgement enough, as Jareth then turned and opened the door. A sharp whistle broke the silence as a gust of wind curled up both their hair, though only Sarah raised a hand against it. He ushered her through, staying close to her back, as he closed the door behind them.

Sarah took a couple of steps out into the open and nearly staggered back at what met her. There was ice coating the stone at her feet, and she slipped like an idiot and almost fell back into Jareth. He caught her arm and straightened her up. It wouldn't do to have her plummet to her death.

"Careful now. It's a bit tight up here."

Sarah nodded, though she thought_ tight _was too inadequate a word to describe their current surroundings.

They were on a balcony, barely large enough for the two of them, with only a thin metal railing separating them from falling to certain death. The walls and rail were covered in a thick layer of ice, making her hesitant to bother stepping away from the safety of the door. Jareth however, gripped her by the arms and guided her forward.

It was cold. Of course it was cold. And yet, somehow Sarah was still surprised by the harsh nip that stung her nose and cheeks as a heavy gust swept by. She covered the side of her face to shield herself from it, then relaxed when the breeze subsided. She looked all around, her mouth hanging open slightly in amazement.

The landscape was vast, limitless, and white. Leveled land spanned as far as the eye could see and blurred into the horizon as a grey mist that then brightened as it rose higher into the sky. The sun was out and, like Mariella had said, it was left a muted white that looked more like the moon as its light diffused through the veil of cloud. She could see nothing else of the land. Nothing.

Feeling a little more secure with Jareth at her back, she took a step forward and gripped the railing with both hands as she peered over it. Jareth was right. They were standing at the top of a spire that was several stories higher than any other. She saw the slick black stone of the castle, but no finer details, as a creeping wave of glacial ice overtook it. It glowed with a blue hue, capped in snow, and fell over the castle walls and towers in massive, very dangerous looking icicles. She marveled at it, at the way the architecture melded with the land in a way that seemed strangely intentional.

Below them she saw a wide, curved wall that enclosed a courtyard. The gates were open and she saw the tiny figures of busy people going about their lives. She saw carts coming and going, pulled by large wooly beasts. There were three paths leading away from the castle: straight, left, and right. She wondered where they went.

"Are you warm enough?" Jareth asked, and she looked back at him with a smile. It caught him off guard, enough so that he nearly darted his eyes away. He did not however. He held her stare and appreciated what was surely an entirely subconscious expression. She looked beautiful in the mountain air, her sharp features and dark hair contrasting starkly against the muted backdrop. Her nose was turning red and her smile stretched a little further, completely unaware of itself.

"Yes," she said, and turned back to the scenery. "It's crazy. The windows are all blocked out...and with the way we traveled, I guess it never really hit me that we're actually here. But seeing it now…" He saw her brow rise in wonder and he felt himself relax. He'd been tense going to her after the note they'd left on. He really did not enjoy brushing her off, but knew it was in both their best interest given his mood. He knew she'd wanted to reach out but he...couldn't. He'd been able to clear his head since then, but things were always mercurial between them when it came to reconciliation.

He sighed to himself at the way she closed her eyes and savored the feel of crisp winter air on her skin, and moved to join her at the railing.

"The air feels different here," she said, inhaling deeply. "Like it's easier to breathe." Jareth reached out and mimicked her posture by gripping the railing. He couldn't remember the last time he'd seen this view…

"It probably is," he said, and she peered at him. "You forget we live in a desert. The air is always stagnant with dust." He was looking out over the terrain but Sarah was inspecting him brazenly. A slight breeze had picked up the ends of his hair and the chill made him even paler than usual. Adversely, his eyes were never more blue. She appreciated his strong profile before turning back to the view ahead.

"True," she said, distractedly. "Where do those roads lead?" Jareth raised a brow and followed her gaze.

"There are towns to the east and west of here. That is where the miners and woodsmen live who work the mountain. The main road heads south, straight to the Capital."

"I see…" she mumbled. Her eyes traveled alongside a cart heading west and she realized there was something more to see. She stepped around Jareth and moved to the other end of the balcony. There was another road, heading north. It vanished amidst trees, which soon gave way to the mountain behind them. "Where does that road go?" she asked. Jareth watched her as she moved, and took a step to stand behind her.

"That trail cuts through the mountain, into The Shadowlands."

"Oh," Sarah said, a little surprised. She didn't realize they were so close to the border.

"Yes...it's the only way in or out between the two kingdoms. I imagine that is why this place was originally built -to serve as a waystation of sorts," he explained and Sarah nodded. Roldan had told her something like that during their lessons. "Would you like to see the facade?"

Sarah turned around to face him with an open expression. He seemed more at ease than just a few moments ago.

"Sure."

He took her by the hand and led her the step or two back to their original spot at the railing, and turned to look out at the landscape.

"Do you see that carriage there?" he asked, gesturing with his eyes to a dark little box moving steadily south. Sarah narrowed her eyes on it, just barely able to make out the fact that it had wheels.

"Yes."

She gasped when suddenly the tiny little spec became a large and imposing structure filling her entire frame of view. She took a step back and blinked, clinging to Jareth as she realized he had teleported them to that very spot. The sound of crunching snow and horses hooves filled her ears much too abruptly, causing her to actually feel disoriented. Jareth was hanging onto her, as if he expected such a reaction.

"Steady now," he said, with a faint smile. Sarah shot him a glare.

"You should warn me before doing that," she said, pulling out of his grasp. He let go effortlessly, ignoring her weak display of irritation.

"I thought I did." She huffed and rolled her eyes away, which then landed on the carriage as it moved farther and farther away from them. "Do you see that?" he asked, and pointed out past the carriage. Sarah narrowed her eyes. There was a faint silhouette emerging from the fog.

"...Yes? What is it?"

"The lipsgate."

"Oh," she said, intrigue perking in her voice. She'd never seen one before, not that she could see this one very well now, but still. It was a flat arch and, from the grey color, she assumed it was made of stone. She turned around and faced the castle. They were quite a ways away from it, but she realized that was necessary in order to get the full view of it.

It was massive. Perhaps just as large as The Castle Beyond The Goblin City -and only part of it actually protruded from the mountain. It was black and frostbitten, ascending in tiers of layered defensive walls. The outer barricade was taller than she'd thought. Perhaps a good 50 feet high, and the gate was not much smaller. There were minimal windows that looked the size of pin-pricks dotting along the exterior walls, and many, many, towers that rose in different widths and at different heights to create an architectural bouquet of sorts, the apex of these structures being a slightly off-center spire that she inferred they had just been standing at.

From this vantage she could appreciate the natural wonder of the mountain and the glacier that was slowly consuming the castle. She raised her head high but its summit vanished well above the cloud-line. The icicles that covered most of the towers were massive, nearly the size of the towers themselves, and came to sharp points that were as foreboding as they were stunning. There was forest on either side, which traveled up the slope and into the fog.

"You look impressed," Jareth said, standing beside her. Sarah's wide eyes lowered from the sky but did not turn away from the castle.

"I am," she replied. She almost added that it was more impressive than the first time she'd seen the Goblin City, but refrained, not wanting to insult him. As her eyes scanned, what finer details she could see looked vaguely Gothic, which had her wondering which world actually established the style first.

"Good." He enjoyed the awe he saw in her eyes. It filled him with pride. Not many appreciated the world the way she did, and her perspective on its beauty had always been refreshing. Most fae detested the cold just as they detested the desert, but not Sarah. No, she looked to be reveling in it. He felt the urge to reach out to her at that moment but stopped himself. "Would you like to see something else?"

Sarah glanced back and stared up at him.

"There's more?" she asked. Jareth grinned, and reached out to wrap an arm around her waist. He tugged her to him and she raised her hands to his chest to brace herself.

"Hang on," he said, and her eyes widened in anticipation before blinking furiously as they adjusted to a totally new landscape.

They were in a forest now. With thin, spindly trees spaced a healthy distance apart. Some were fir, others birch, but all stood tall with high leaves. She stepped away from Jareth and turned all around. She could not see the castle or the road, only forest as it stretched ever-onward.

"Where are we?" she asked. Jareth looked away, around their surroundings, and shrugged.

"A forest. The castle is just east of here, though we are a ways further up the mountain," he said. Sarah continued to look around and remarked on the dead silence of the environment. The canopy sifted the snow, leaving the ground layer thinner and easier to tread through. She tried to listen to the sound of birds or animals, or even the wind, but there was nothing.

"Why are we here?" she asked. Jareth took her hand in his.

"There's something I want to show you."

Sarah gripped his hand as he led her deeper into the woods. The sun was a little brighter here, its light cutting through foliage as beams that highlighted particles of ice that danced in the air. It made the entire forest shimmer in a visage of quiet serenity, the likes of which she didn't think could exist in the Aboveground.

The sound of their boots moving through the snow was the only thing breaking that tranquility. Jareth was silent, though the way he held her hand firmly in his gave her the confidence to walk closer to his side.

Soon, they came upon a clearing. The canopy gave way to a circular alcove, the light of the sun rendering the seamless pane of the snow a blinding white. To Sarah, it seemed almost wrong to disturb it, though Jareth did not hesitate.

They entered the clearing and Sarah peered from left to right as her eyes spied on eight snow-covered stumps encircling the area. Her eyes narrowed as they passed them by. She recognized this place…

In front of them was a large tree, a different breed than the rest. It was grey, old, and dead. Its bark twisted and suffered deep contusions that split into a familiar gash at its center. Its branches fell low and spanned wide, though it was the only one without leaves. Jareth slowed as they neared it and approached what she assumed was an altar buried in snow.

"Another Druid?" Sarah asked. She looked worried, but she wasn't. If anything she was confused. She looked to Jareth for his answer. He was staring up at the tree, his expression pensive and somewhat lost.

"Once," he said, and that was all.

Sarah released his hand and stepped away from him. There was something different about this place compared to where their wedding was held. It felt different. It was empty and yet...there was a hum. A low hum that Sarah could feel but not discern. What did that mean?

"Is it dead?" she asked. She knew that there was currently only one Druid left in the Goblin Kingdom and it was near the Capital. She frowned as she looked at it. The hollow that once terrified her now evoked a sense of pity.

"No...not exactly. It's just gone." There was a somberness to his voice, a sense of disappointment that Sarah understood. She knew these creatures were revered, worshiped, and what it meant for a monarch to have one, let alone several, within one's borders. While no-one had ever stated it explicitly, she'd learned that Jareth cared more about the spiritual aspect of his culture than he let on, and so found herself frowning with equal disappointment.

She left Jareth's side and stepped around the pillar, moving to stand directly in front of the tree's hollow. She peered into it and heard a faint echo, like the sea. She wondered how deep this tunnel went, if it traveled to the world of spirits itself. Roldan had not bothered educating her much on fae religion, though she'd read a few books on the subject. These creatures were considered to be the link between the physical and metaphysical words -the source of their magic. She reached out and laid a hand against the bark. What did it mean when a Druid left? That seemed important, and she felt very sad all of the sudden.

"So this...is just a shell then?" she asked. Jareth observed her curiously. She was regarding the tree with a deep sense of empathy and for a moment this worried him. She was frowning, her brow disconcerted.

"Yes."

"Why did it leave?" she asked further. Jareth stepped to her side and shrugged.

"I don't know." -Which was a lie. Druids were attracted to epicenters of strong magic. At one time, that was The Goblin Kingdom -when Liana was in her prime and Nature well-balanced. However...as time passed, as his predecessors failed time and again to carry out their duty, the magic of his land waned and destabilized. The Druids were leaving, chasing after waves of magic that coursed irregularly across the land. The site of this corpse only reminded him that he was equally, if not more, incapable of the task as his forefathers had been. That was why he wanted Liana. That was why he'd done all of this. It wasn't for power...it was for peace.

He watched as Sarah's frown deepened and her fingers curled against the bark. Her eyes lowered and she tilted her head just slightly.

"Do you feel that?" she asked and he scowled.

"What?"

"That hum," she said, and turned to look him square in the eye. Jareth didn't respond right away, not knowing what the hell she was talking about. And then it clicked. He stepped back and hoped she would follow.

"This is a holy place," he said, offering her a hand which she took as he guided her away. "A place of power, if you will. That's probably what you're feeling." -Which was not a lie. He'd forgotten how she might react to places such as this, places that were nearly a part of her. This Druid was gone however, and so he was not concerned over her proximity or her physical contact with its husk. It was merely a ghost she was sensing, a vacancy that her heart of hearts was yearning to fill.

In that sense he admired her just then, regarded her as something sacred to be worshiped, his _Almother_. For a very brief moment he wondered if it would really be so bad...If perhaps Davion was right in that preparing her for the role rather than shielding her from it was the better choice. He was starting to believe Liana would never become his. Fate had worked against him for far too long. And he was sincere when he'd proclaimed he wanted Sarah more. Sarah was strong...she was human, but she was strong.

"I see," she said, stealing a peak at him as she stepped over the snow and wondered why he looked so solemn all the sudden. They stood a short ways from the tree now and she stopped to look up at him. "Thank you for taking me here. It's nice." Jareth looked down at her and smirked.

"Oh, this isn't what I wanted to show you."

Jareth took her hand again and led them around the tree, back into the forest. Sarah's brow furrowed but she said nothing, curious to where he was leading her next. They left the tree behind them and Sarah noted what might be a path overtaken by snow. There were bushes and small trees lining the way, which opened up into another small clearing.

She saw a bench. Just one stone bench. It too was covered in snow. Jareth escorted her to it and her eyes widened when she saw a little pond placed directly beyond it.

Jareth was quiet and brought them to stand between the bench and the pond. He was looking down, into the water, and so Sarah did as well. She was confused with what she saw.

It was a circular pond, no more than 5 feet in diameter, and it was in no way frozen over. In fact, it was steaming. Sarah's eyes narrowed on it as she saw little bubbles simmering to its surface and then widened when the orange and white gleam of fish suddenly fluttered in and out of sight. She bent forward a little, bringing her face closer to the water.

They looked like koi. Long, elegant looking koi that had wide fins and glittering scales. They were red, orange, and white, some solid and some spotted. And they had many long whiskers that wriggled as they moved. She straightened up at the sound of Jareth brushing off the snow on the bench behind them.

"I don't understand...what is this?" she asked, and glanced back to watch him sit himself languidly on the bench. His cape billowed around him, the wide brim of his fur collar making him look delectably cozy. She wanted to crawl into his lap.

"It's a pond," he said, dryly. Sarah pursed her lips and joined him on the bench.

"Why is it steaming?" she clarified. Jareth stared down at the pond with a look of detachment.

"It's the fish," he answered. Sarah turned her gaze away from him and back to the creatures in question.

"What kind of fish are they? They look like koi." Jareth leaned forward in his seat, shuffling his cloak as he made himself more comfortable, and rested his forearms on his thighs.

"That's because they are. Frost Koi, from the Darowen region in the Parlnese mountains." Sarah gave him a rather perplexed look.

"I didn't know koi existed in this world too," she said. Jareth smiled.

"There are many things that exist in this world that you are unaware of." He was smiling wryly but she chose not to play into his cryptic tone. Instead she scooted a little closer to him and savored the feeling of their shoulders touching.

"How can they survive in this climate?" she asked.

"They emit a great deal of body heat. When in ideal numbers, in an ideal sized pool, they can effectively regulate the temperature of the water and prevent their home from freezing over," he explained, which Sarah found to be, quite plainly, amazing. She stared down at them again, watching the way they moved in figure eights around the pond.

"That's amazing," she said, having no better response. Jareth tilted his head and sat back again, slouching a little as he did so.

"Yes...they are fickle though. If the water gets too hot they will cook themselves, adversely if the water is too cold they will freeze. They thrive in environments such as this, though they require close monitoring."

"You seem to know an awful lot about this," she remarked, eyeing him as he shrugged dismissively.

"They were my mother's favorite," he said, which caught her off guard. He wasn't looking at her and gestured towards the pond with a nod. "These here, or rather, their ancestors, belonged to her." He spoke casually enough, but Sarah was frowning. She knew he did not like to talk about his parents, which had her wondering why he'd brought her here in the first place. She glanced away and folded her hands in her lap.

"Oh…" was all she said. They were quiet for a moment, as Sarah wondered what to say next. She was surprised when Jareth continued speaking.

"This place…" he started and trailed off as his eyes glanced around. "...was always a haven for her, when things with my father became particularly unbearable." Sarah spied him discreetly, observing the way he folded his arms as he spoke. She wondered if he was forcing himself to reveal this to her. For once, her curiosity held the lesser sway and she instead wanted to tell him that was unnecessary. She did not say anything however. She only listened and waited patiently for him to continue. "She used to abscond with us when we were children. Back then the delusion seemed...nice." His tone was becoming more and more distant and she could tell by the look in his eye that he was getting lost in a memory. She frowned further and laced her arm with his.

"You and Davion, you mean?" she asked. Jareth nodded.

"Eventually though...our father caught on. He forbade her from removing his sons from the Capital."

"What?" Jareth turned to look at her then and she was upset by the sight of a cynical smile on his face.

"She came alone after that. Left us behind to incur the brunt of his wrath." Sarah's mouth hung open and she felt a near overwhelming urge to reach out to him. There was a ghost in his eyes, something of pain that she did not see very often. He was still smiling, in spite of himself, but it was an expression that did the opposite of comfort her. He leaned in towards her a little and cocked a brow. "That's why I do not like coming here," he informed her. Sarah bit her lip before closing her mouth.

"Jareth I -I'm sorry," she struggled to say. He looked at her oddly and cracked another grin.

"Why?" he asked. Sarah just stared at him. His tone and his look made it apparent he did not understand why she would possibly be feeling sympathy for him. Davion's words came back to her, his tales of Jareth martyring himself for the sake of his younger brother, and she now also remembered Jareth himself mentioning he used to do the same for his mother. After seeing the damage done to Davion, she could not imagine the kind of horror Jareth had endured. And their mother...their mother just abandoned them? Left them alone, as children, with that kind of monster?

"Because I did not know that coming here would bother you like that. I thought you were just annoyed with Davion. If I had known, I wouldn't have been so pushy about it," she said, though he only gave her another cool look.

"I brought you here because it was what you wanted. It's as simple as that."

She wanted to rebut him but didn't. He'd gone out of his way for her and she knew she needed to just accept the gesture as it was intended rather than pity him for it. She wondered at what point she came to know him so well, when it'd become so easy for her to dissect his mannerisms.

She looked back to the fish, back to this deeply personal place and all the intimacy that they now shared because of it. She wondered if he'd ever brought anyone else here. Wondered if anyone else even knew about it.

"Who tends the fish?" she asked, deflecting. Jareth took a breath and exhaled slowly.

"Davion."

"Really?"

Jareth turned back to her and regarded her profile as she stared at the water. Her nose and her cheeks were a bright pink and her skin had paled. She looked far too beautiful in the snow. It would be best for him to look away.

"He has always been the sentimental one in the family," he said, with only a hint of derision. "He...does not regard this place as I do. When he left the Capital, he chose to come here as a way of honoring our mother. He cares for this place by his own hands. In the warmer season, he even toils the garden and trims the foliage," he said, pointing around the treeline where Sarah assumed flowers might grow. She frowned again and shook her head.

"I can't picture Davion doing that," she said. Jareth nodded in agreement.

"Yes...it is quite undignifying."

"I'm still a little worried about him," she said, fiddling with her hands in her lap. Jareth glanced over at her. "I'm not afraid of him or anything but...I kind of want to go home. At the same time I feel like doing so now would be like admitting defeat."

Jareth smiled at her, truly smiled. That was the second time she'd referred to the castle as her home, to this place as her home. She'd said it naturally, without reservation, and it brought him an unwarranted amount of joy. And then there was the second part of her sentence, the part that reminded him very much of himself.

"I agree," he said, the slight amusement in his tone earning her stare. She looked over and her lips pursed in a reluctant smile as she realized he was only partially picking on her. They were meant to stay another night, maybe two. Sarah wasn't sure what to do with herself for that length of time. It felt awkward more than anything else, but that was because she was focusing on Davion. Right now felt peaceful. It felt right. She was with Jareth and it was easy. Maybe the weekend hadn't been completely ruined afterall.

"So I guess we're staying then." And she sounded neither happy nor grumpy about it. One thing they could always agree on was they were both deeply competitive individuals. For once, it seemed they could actually work as a team. The thought amused her, enough so that a wry smile was curling her lips.

It was quiet for a few moments, Sarah pleasantly lost in thought and completely unaware of Jareth's stare on her. There was a thought still nagging at him, one that he realized would not leave until he voiced it. He did not want to. He wanted to keep that look of blissful ignorance on her face for as long as possible. But, as his eyes lowered over her, over how delicate, and formidable, and truly precious she was, he found he really had no other choice…

"Sarah…" he said, softly pegging her attention. She looked over to find him scowling at the space between them.

"Hm?"

"How would you like...to learn about magic?"

Sarah's eyes widened and she turned to face him fully.

"What? I can do that?" she asked, sounding much more excited than she'd meant to. Jareth looked bothered by the offer, which was curious in and of itself.

"In theory, at least," he clarified. Sarah's brow furrowed.

"Why would you offer me that?" she asked. He shrugged, and glanced away to conceal the tick that moved through his jaw.

"Despite my best efforts, it seems you have a very inconvenient habit of getting into trouble where magic is concerned. It would sate my peace of mind to give you some form of education on the matter, so you might better protect yourself in future," he explained, which made sense to her. She pursed her lips and looked down as she thought.

"Okay...that sounds good. How did Davion even get into my dream anyway? I thought you had like, a million wards on me?" she asked, never before bothering to think what that actually entailed. She saw the flash of a smirk move across his face but it never reached his eyes.

"I do. My brother is simply….very persistent. He knows how to chip away at even the best defenses," he said and looked down as he took hold of her hand. "On that note, I'm going to need to borrow your ring," he added.

"What for?"

"I'm going to use it...as a conduit for another charm. Like the one I made of your necklace." Sarah blinked and her hand instinctively rose to her chest, to the pendent she now always wore at his behest.

"Oh?"

"Yes. Physical amulets are more powerful and stable than metaphysical enchantments. They simply take a great deal more effort and time to make," he explained. His thumb brushed over her knuckles as he spoke. "I had hoped you would be well enough protected without such accessories but…"

"No, I get it," she interrupted, covering his hand with hers. She appreciated he was being so informative on this. It was a breath of fresh air. It was amazing how drastically he'd changed after their wedding, after her last epic freakout that nearly tore them both to shreds. Was this affinity what she had been holding out for? The _him_ that she knew, even back then, was waiting beneath all the anger, and arrogance, and charm? _-the most appropriate veneer._ "I appreciate it, actually. Will Roldan be teaching me about magic?"

"No. Roldan has very little knowledge on the subject."

"Ah, right," she said, remembering that magical knowledge was limited by class. "So, you're going to teach me then?" And there was a hopeful little twinkle in her eye as she asked. Jareth peered over and his smile curled on one side.

"Yes. I am, plainly, the only one capable." -And she laughed impulsively. It was soft, but still she raised a hand to her face to conceal it. Jareth's smile curled a little further. What an adorable reaction.

"Of that I have no doubt," she said, and gave in to finally lay herself against him. Her head rested on his shoulder and her arms wrapped around one of his.

They were quiet after that, pleasantly so. They both watched the bubbles that floated to the surface of the pond, their eyes absent on the wisps of orange and white. After a while, she sat up again. She looked at Jareth but he was too well reposed to look back. She used the moment to observe him, to digest all the things she'd learned. Davion had said he was lonely, that he hid it behind a facade of charm. And Mariella accused Davion of doing the same. She thought, staring at him now, that was absolutely true.

She'd always sensed a sadness about him that felt out of place, like a cold spot in a room that never warmed. It was something that no one else seemed to notice. Although, apparently, Davion knew of it too. She pondered the connections between the lot of them, and was saddened by the lack of awareness going on.

Jareth's eyes were vacant, his expression relaxed, and yet there was a veil of tension about his brow, an integral contention that she always pondered and worried over. Davion said that Jareth felt he bore the weight of the world on his shoulders, and she agreed. She just...didn't know why. She thought back over her knowledge of the abuse he suffered, of the way it must have changed him, and curbed the relationships he formed there-after. He said he loved her because she fought him, because she looked him in the eye when no-one else would. It was a rare thing to be _seen_, Davion said. It was in that very moment that she truly appreciated the meaning of those words.

She stared at him and saw him in all of his colors, all his shadows. She saw his darkness, and his weakness, his unnamed strife. But beneath it, she saw a light that could not be smothered, a love to give that had no choice but to endure. Something that shone every time he smiled at her.

She really did love him. It wasn't easy, and it was by no means unconditional, but it was true. Despite all his wrong doings, she no longer wanted to go home. Despite all the horrible things he'd put her through, she did not want him to feel alone. Perhaps it was selfish, but she wanted the martyr. She wanted the man, who moved the stars for no-one, to move them for her, to place the moon itself within her heart.

Recalling the lyrics to his song for her made her heart flutter. She was getting carried away now...She looked away from him and smiled.

"You know...we haven't done it in the snow," she said, and her eyes peered up at him coyly. "It's always summer in the Capital. I can't imagine we'll find ourselves in a place like this very often...I know it might not be particularly enjoyable but...still seems a bit of a waste." The glimmer in her eye turned suggestive and he laughed. He was surely caught off guard but he laughed, and it was genuine, and rich, and he turned to look at her with a wide, boyish smile on his face.

He brought that smile close to hers as he leaned in and suddenly there was an air of wickedness to it.

"Run," he said.

Sarah blinked.

"What?"

Jareth's eyes, darkening deliciously, remained unblinking as they fell down her front and rose back up again.

"_Run._"

Sarah sat back, the dangerous purr that had taken over his voice rendering his intention loud and clear. She bit her lip in a fleeting moment of panic, then jumped to her feet, and ran.

She ran into the woods, without any clue as to where she was going. She ran with a smile on her face, with the hope that she would be tackled to the ground at any moment.

She wasn't sure how far she'd gotten, but it became clear Jareth had no intention of catching her just yet, so she stopped. She turned all around and was curious, borderline-worried, when she saw she was alone.

She'd ran so far she could no longer see the clearing she'd come from. At least she had her footprints to lead her back…

"Um...Jareth?" she asked the wind, still turning around in all directions. She heard a rustle then, from a nearby tree, and looked up to the lowest branch.

There was an owl perched above her head. She took a few steps back and regarded it, entertaining the idea that it might actually be what it appeared. It was white and gold, and much too familiar-looking. Nope. The owl turned its head as it watched her, and made a faint cooing sound. Sarah narrowed her eyes on it and knelt down to pack some snow.

When she straightened, she wound her arm back and threw the ball directly at the poor bird. She hit her mark head on, nearly sending the creature flying off the branch in the process. She gasped and darted her hands to her face on reflex. She hadn't actually expected to hit him. What if it really was just a bird?

She staggered back, her eyes wide and her smile reluctant as she watched the owl shudder and shake the snow from its feathers. It turned and looked at her, then she shrieked when it suddenly launched from its perch and dove straight at her.

Sarah turned away and braced herself as she awaited the inevitable, knowing she did not have enough time to evade it by running. However, again, nothing came. She paused, still crouched defensively, and then slowly lowered her arms from her face. She stood straight and looked all around again. The owl was gone.

She turned around one last time and gasped as the startling sight of Jareth nearly knocked the wind clear out of her.

"Now that wasn't very nice," he chided playfully. He was standing much too close to her, and she found her arm raising between them instinctively. She took a step back. He took a step forward.

"What can I say? I'm not into bestiality," she said, with an unapologetic shrug. Jareth's smile curled, his teeth looking just a little too sharp. She noticed then that there was snow in his hair and on his shoulders. She tried not to giggle.

Jareth encroached until he could encroach no further and her back hit the trunk of a tree. She flinched in surprise, but her eyes widened with dread at the realization that she'd been caged. Dread? No, not dread.

"Noted," Jareth said, his eyes focused and his intent was clear as he reached up for the sides of her face with both hands and kissed her.

Her hands went to his wrists as she stumbled back into the tree. He was forceful, paying her no consideration as his tongue pushed open her jaw and found her own. She was panting already, left breathless by his ardency.

He pulled away and she thought it was to let her catch her breath. She was wrong. In a quick movement, he reached for the button at her throat and unfastened it, allowing her cloak to fall heavily to the ground. She was about to speak out when he then took hold of her wrists and spun her around to face the tree. He leaned into her, pressed his chest against her back, and placed her hands on the two main limbs where the trunk diverged. He did not say anything. He did not need to. Sarah kept her hands firmly in place and waited in anticipation.

He crouched down and took hold of the hem of her dress, bringing it with him, and bunched it at her hips. The cold air found her legs but it was bearable. She jittered a little in her spot as her back bowed low for him.

His hands were on her hips, pulling her taut, and he gandered at the roundness of her ass from such an angle. Then he reached up and pulled down her leggings and her underwear to the base of her thighs. Sarah found her knees pressing together. God she was turned on, the fact that her ass was already freezing did not matter in the slightest. She heard him pull off one of his gloves and then two of his fingers were inside of her.

Sarah moaned and inched closer to the tree. She gripped its bark tightly and then pressed back against his hand. She heard him murmur low in the back of his throat, and she knew it was in reaction to how wet she already was. His fingers moved in and out of her easily, so he added a third. She gasped with pleasure and blinked rapidly as she internally begged for more. His other hand massaged her ass and moved around to grip her hip. He pulled her back towards him, and she ground against his erection.

"Jareth-" she pleaded, softly. She was nervous about how they would move on from this Davion situation, which was partially why she wanted this so, so badly. The idea of Jareth not wanting her, for any reason, had always been unacceptable to her. While there were times when she hated it, if she was going to be his sole focus, then she was going to be his _sole focus_. She had turned out to be just as possessive as him, which made for a dangerous, licentious combination.

Her eyes opened and focused on the nothingness ahead, the condensation of her breath rising to muddle her view as she panted a little harder.

She hadn't heard him untie his pants. Hadn't heard him reposition his feet to enter her at the perfect angle. However, she moaned loudly when his hand was immediately replaced by his hot and throbbing cock.

He pushed into her and she instinctively pressed herself against the tree. With a bit of a growl, he took hold of her hips and jerked her back, holding her ass up as he thrust in her again. She shrieked, and clawed her fingers at the bark of the tree as her eyes screwed shut. Jareth cast his head back and moaned, pulling her onto each thrust until he could delve no further. He set a hard rhythm, fast, and hooked his hips in that special way of his that had her howling his name.

He leaned over her and reached for her hair, holding it taut and bracing her body as he fucked her as deeply as possible. Sarah's moans turned low, her breathing heavy as she tried desperately to keep her hands on the tree. He reached around and pressed two of his fingers against her clit, and she trembled. Her toes were curling in her boots, and she rose higher on one foot to find a more accommodating angle.

It wasn't long before she came, loudly, unabashedly, in the middle of the woods. Jareth fucked her with long hard thrusts, staring down at her ass as he savored every one of her quivers and moans. He could feel her tightening around him, jerking him for release. He hissed through a clenched jaw and screwed his eyes shut as he followed her, coming deep within her as he pushed to the hilt. Sarah squealed from the quick jab of pain, but still pushed back against him. His hand was still in her hair, the other holding up her hip, and he breathed roughly at her back. She was still aroused, still ready to keep going, when he pulled away from her. His hand drifted lifelessly from her hair and she turned back to face him with fervor in her eyes.

Their eyes locked and he was panting, a sated smile stretching his face.

"You're getting a bit rosy down here. Don't want you getting frostbite," he said, and she realized he meant her ass. She grinned in spite of herself and watched as he straightened himself up -like it never happened. Although...it was hard to miss his lingering erection.

He reached for her thighs and pulled up her pants, smoothing out the material as he draped the skirt of her dress back over her rear. Sarah straightened and turned around to face him. They were both still breathing heavily, and both still had a smile on their faces.

"Worth it," she said, jokingly.

Jareth's eyes flickered over her and, as his heart began to settle, he found it pounding for a different reason entirely. He looked back to her face, back to the brightness of her eyes and the genuine delight in her smile and he...he felt himself humbling greatly. He stepped towards her, becoming much more serious, though she failed to realize it.

He stood very close and took hold of the side of her face. He wanted to kiss her but he didn't. He just couldn't stop looking. She placed her hands on his chest and renewed her smile. Postcoital bliss was not always certain with them, but Jareth recognized that, for him, this moment was something more.

She had given him something. She'd given him a memory of this place that was not rooted in bitterness and disdain. She'd given him a reason to think of this place as something more than a tomb. She cared that he suffered. She cared and she showed him compassion he did not deserve. He adored her in that moment. He adored her more passionately than ever before.

He pressed his forehead against hers and sighed. His free hand wrapped around her back and clung hopelessly. Sarah sensed a change go through him, but not the proper degree. She enjoyed his tenderness nonetheless, and closed her eyes as she savored his embrace. She felt happy. Without restrictions.

She felt his thumb twitch against her cheek and became more aware that something heady was on his mind. He was still holding their foreheads together, though she did not pull away.

"Thank you," he said, and his eyes closed in repose. Sarah's smile grew and her fingers curled against his chest. She felt many things for Jareth; not all of them were good, nor easy to comprehend, but right now she was glad. She was glad because she knew, in that lingering moment, that he was feeling all of those things too. That they were truly, finally, together.


	120. As The Pain Sweeps Through

Chapter 25, As The Pain Sweeps Through

* * *

Sarah opened her eyes and sighed. There was an echo in the air, the faint chirrup of birds laughing with one another. She sat upright and a sharp chill shot up her spine with her. It was cold. Her skin pimpled and tensed as fine hair stood on end. She ran a hand up her arm, but immediately recoiled at the damp and dirtied feeling of her palm.

The air was permeated with the smells of pine and magic, dirt, and rot.

She made a gucking sound and grimaced as she peered down. She paused, her eyes narrowing at what she saw. Then her expression became bored. Of course. She was naked.

She licked her lips and peered around. She was in a glade, a serene little place, light breaking through the trees on all sides. There was fog in the air. It clung to her bared skin in a light sheen that only added to her frigid state. She glanced to her shoulder to spy beads of dew forming there. Well that was annoying. Where the hell were her clothes…

She reached over and grabbed a pair of pants sitting off to the side. She stood and they unfolded, revealing underthings and a shirt that had been tucked within that then fell to the ground. She dressed, with little remark, and quietly surveyed the land. She was alone; though the longer she remained that way, the more she perceived the songs of the birds to be suspiciously rehearsed. The pungent scent of the forest struck her yet again.

She brushed the flat of her palms down her thighs, ridding them of any traces of dirt, and the stretchy material moved with her. The familiarity comforted her. Underground leggings were nice, but she missed actual yoga pants. Just another thing she'd taken for granted.

Still barefoot, she stooped to the ground and pulled on a pair of socks and sneakers that may or may not have been there the moment before.

She sighed again, and continued to search the perimeter for invaders.

But there was nothing. Nothing at all.

She left the glade and walked into the forest. The twitter of birds high above began to layer, though she had yet to spot a single one. She walked in silence, stepping over decaying logs and displaced mounds of dirt as the underbrush slowly encroached around her.

The forest thickened. Abruptly, or perhaps not, Sarah found herself surrounded by dense undergrowth. Black thickets and thorns, glistening with morning dew, obstructed her path. They sprawled up the trees and hung from their branches as creeping, parasitic vines. The bright red tips of their talons gave her pause. Being pricked by one would be a trip of a nasty sort, she'd learned.

She turned around and the path was clear. She headed that way, nary a concern as the song of the birds lulled to a hum. She walked farther and farther, even as the ambient light of the day faded, until she stood lost and alone in a boundless night.

She stopped and pressed a hand against a tree. Its bark felt brittle, yet soft -slowly rotting under a plague of lichen. The ground beneath her feet was the same. Soft. Cushioned. Welcoming. And yet, just the mere scrape of her toe would reveal a discord of maggots and spiders, and other such cryptids that writhed beneath. Their noises and ticks layered, emulating the trill of laughter. Something nefarious, she mused, left stifled behind things soft and cushioned and welcoming.

She closed her eyes and exhaled slowly through her nose. The air stilled. The creatures and their sounds retreated. The blackness melded to that of her eyes.

When she opened them, a new light shone. She glanced over, at the faint ball of luminance that diffused between a silhouette of trees, and stepped towards it. Branches and fallen bark cracked and crumbled under foot, yet there was nothing else to impede her.

She approached the source of light until its beams became blinding, and she raised an arm to protect her face as she stepped into it.

Her grimace softened and she looked around as her arm lowered to her side.

She was in the park. Idling under a midday sun, shining softly and pleasantly upon the memory. She took a few steps and then paused again. Something had caught her eye and she glanced down. T'was the skirt of her dress, flowing airily about her knees. It was white. It was thin. It was something she'd worn before.

She failed to suppress the smile that curled the corners of her mouth.

She rose her head high towards the sky and turned in place.

"Going a bit easy on me, aren't you?" she called out, her voice echoing into the trees.

Her head snapped down at the sound of a growl.

There was a dog. A black, mangy, altogether terrifying dog, poised a few feet in front of her. Its shoulders were haunched, its clipped ears pinned back, and it snarled at her again. She locked eyes with it. Pursed her lips in thought. She remembered this thing.

It seemed making eye contact had been a poor decision, as the animal bared its teeth and barked at her viciously. Instinctively, she took a step back. She wavered, and a brief flare of fear gave her heart a hard pound. Refusing its hold over her, she gulped down that moment of faltering confidence and stood straighter, looking the beast straight in the eye.

"Well? Are you going to bite me?" she asked. The dog prowled towards her, cautious but with clear conviction. She felt another tick moving to her jaw, and gritted her teeth to remain stern. Yes, she remembered this.

Suddenly the dog lunged with a deafening series of barks and she felt herself falling back as she braced against it. She felt sharp teeth clamping around the forearm she'd risen to shield herself, and yelped in fright.

But its fur was soft… Its fur was soft and she used that moment of distraction to take back control and fisted a hand tightly at its nape. They rolled as they hit the ground, Sarah's eyes screwing shut, as she brought the dog and all its yips of pain with her.

She fell, tucked her arms into herself and kept rolling, alone, down the face of a hill.

She crashed into a shallow pond, landing on her knees, prostrate, as her hands sank into the muddy bed beneath. The dog was gone. It's howels, and the bite on her arm, never there.

She sneered at the blackened pane of the water's surface and leaned away. Her dress was soaked and stained all the way to her ass.

"Ugh...seriously?" she mumbled, shaking her head and wiping the mud from her hands against the waist of her dress. She tried to stand, but couldn't.

Another instinctive pang of fear shot through her, but again she was quick to dismiss it. She tugged on her legs again, but to no avail. She took a deep breath to compose herself. That's when she started sinking. _Quicksand? How original._

She sniffled and, with the back of her hand, wiped away the water and grime that had splashed across her face. She kept her eyes trained on the water's surface, focusing intently as she reached in and clawed through the mud. Her body continued to lower, to sink despairingly deep -until it didn't. Until it instead began to rise, higher and higher, until the face of a boulder emerged from the depths and lifted her to safety. Several others joined, dotting for her a path across the pond. She exhaled carefully before standing to her feet. _Phew._ She was almost nervous just now.

She reached down and wrung the water from the skirt of her dress, then proceeded to hop from stone to stone until she reached the safety of the grass once more.

She paced away, her eyes scanning the clouds suspiciously as they darkened. And, before she could even finish the thought, it started to rain.

A loud boom of thunder had her startling back, soon joined by a quick and blinding flash of lightning. She smoothed the hair away from her face and stared up as best she could. The world had turned grey. The veil of rain had become so heavy she was not sure there were still surroundings left to be seen at all.

She was soaked, her dress clung heavily to her, and she realized she no longer wore undergarments. She started laughing to herself. Of course.

Turning around, she saw the pond whence she came. Only, it was not the same. It was large and rimmed with pebbles. Her foot shifted in place and the sound of gravel accompanied it. A waterfall cascaded loudly in front of her, glowing with an ethereal light she had anything but forgotten.

She traveled around the edge of the pond, to the cabin that just now revealed to her its light.

She entered the cabin and sagged against the door as it closed behind her. The torrent of the rain became muffled, but nonetheless foreboding, as it pelted against the old wooden planks. She released the knob and stepped forward. A fire was lit. She scanned the room but found it empty, suffering a strange stillness that provoked her to delve further within.

She went to the kitchen, leaned over the sink as she wrung out her hair, and stared out the window at the utter blackness that laid beyond it. She should have been cold, but she wasn't. She had no reason to be.

As she stared out the window, the reflection of the hearth in the other room caught her eye. It flickered, faintly, reflecting off itself to create what she mused to be two little eyes. They watched her, unblinking, from deep within the forest. She found her hands trailing listlessly down her hair, her gaze lost to the beguile of those two little specks-

She coughed and yelped when she was suddenly shoved aggressively against the window.

Sarah's teeth gritted and she pushed back with her hands against the rim of the sink, but something strong and unyielding held her in place. A hand was clawed around the back of her head, the tips of fingers pressing into her scalp as they held the side of her face pushed flush against the cool glass of the window.

The feel of the rain bearing down on the other side vibrated against her cheek, and a cooling sensation flushed over her.

Angered, she growled and thrust herself forward. She stumbled out of his hold, through the wall itself, and into a new environment entirely. She straightened as she caught her balance, and looked all around.

The rain was gone. The room was silent. _Her_ room, she remembered. In the house of her parents in the Aboveground. She continued to look around, hesitant to touch anything, as her uncanny location steadily unnerved her.

She left her room and entered the hall. It was dark, night, but there were lights on at key intervals. She went down the stairs and stood in the foyer. It felt like it'd been so long since she'd seen this place. She paced slowly, finally allowing her hand to trail along the textured wallpaper she'd completely forgotten about. She heard the boom of thunder, then. Distant. Lulled.

She gasped again as her entire body was thrust forward against the wall.

She hit it hard, the bones of her hips cutting into the drywall as her hands did what they could to brace against the impact. She felt a presence at her back, something solid, and dark, and a forearm that dug into the back of her neck as it held her down. She pushed against it but only huffed in frustration, then winced when a sleek hand covered hers and a hot breath breezed against her ear…

"_Pay attention_," -it said. And then it was gone.

Sarah staggered back and pulled away the hair that had caught in her mouth. She was glaring, but at nothing it seemed, as she peered around and found herself alone. She brought a hand to the back of her neck and rubbed. _Damn. That almost kind of hurt.._.

Ignoring the temptation of nostalgia, she bade farewell to her childhood home and headed straight for the front door.

She exited the house to find herself standing at the edge of the Labyrinth, under a tree that held more significance to her than it should have. It looked the same, save for the dark clouds that loomed overhead. She scowled at it. It seemed she hadn't escaped the storm afterall.

A breeze swept up the dampened skirt of her dress and with it came a chill -a sharp scent of pine and magic, dirt, and rot. Damn it. He was right. She wasn't paying attention.

She shook her head and walked forward, down the trail that led to the Labyrinth's gate.

She wandered for what felt like a long time, searching for shelter from the imminent storm. She found the mouth of a tunnel and entered just as the first droplets hit.

The path brought her low, deep into a cavern, rendering the onslaught of the rain little more than a patter. The light of the tunnel was dim and made grey from the veil of the storm outside. She heard the splash of a puddle and stopped, peered down, and realized the tunnel was starting to flood. She looked around for an escape but hesitated. This place...was too familiar.

She saw a new source of light from an adjoining corridor up ahead and went towards it. But, before she could reach it, found herself abruptly halted in her tracks.

The gust of air that hit her was permeated with the smell of pine and magic, dirt, and rot.

She looked at Jareth, then over herself. She was wearing her old outfit. The one she'd first met him in. And he too was playing his part -hands held at the hips as the wide lapels of a brown leather coat fanned his shoulders. The water was rising at their feet, drenching her shoes, as it quickly rose past the ankle.

She imagined the memory was meant to unnerve her, and took a step back against the wall.

"Is this what you call upping the stakes?" she asked, glancing at the water level as it rose ever-higher. Jareth's grin curled on one side and he stepped towards her, closely.

"You seemed distracted," he said, and leaned towards her as an arm pressed against the wall above her head. He was smiling at her, something sinister that had her eyes darting away. "Perhaps you're enjoying yourself a bit too much?"

Sarah cracked a grin and glanced back at him. He still had a hand on his hip, his posture making him seem taller as he loomed over her. She crossed her arms in defense of it, though tilted her head and regarded him coyly.

"Not enough, I'd say," she replied, and reached up to pluck at the breast of her shirt. "The outfits are a nice touch though."

"Sadly, my dear, I cannot claim credit for that little detail," he said, his smile curling devilishly as he spoke. The water was still rising, now nearing her knees. They both ignored it. "I thought we agreed to abstain from your fantasies for one night?" He spoke teasingly, but there was a tension laced with those words, a detachment that darkened his eyes as he languidly drank her in.

"My fantasy?" Sarah repeated, raising a brow at him in a very knowing manner. The fist he held above her head tightened subtly. He took another step towards her, the only one he could, until she could feel the leather of his jacket brushing against her breast.

His head dipped towards hers, his fisted glove scraping loudly against the stone wall as his arm lowered, though he stopped, and paused with his lips just a hair's breadth from hers. Her mouth was open. Her tongue was tracing her lip. He smiled.

"Yes. _Your fantasy_." His voice was a salacious purr which seemed to rumble throughout the tunnel around them. The sound of falling water grew louder, the flash of lightning bouncing off the walls behind them never more apparent, and yet the feeling of water rising towards her hips meant nothing. It was all nothing.

She uncrossed her arms and reached up to run a delicate finger along the collar of her shirt, widening it suggestively, before halting at her cleavage.

"Then step away."

There was challenge in her gaze, scrutinizing, audacious. It sparked with the flashes of lightning moving around them. Jareth ran the tip of his tongue along the back of his teeth. If only she had looked at him thus back then.

"Those buttons are in my way," he said, with a sharpness that passed, unblinking, between their stares. She bit her lip and unfastened the first, slowly trailed down to the second, and then the third…

When she was finished, she ran her hands back up her torso, pushing apart the halves of her shirt just enough to reveal the white, lace trim of her bra. Jareth's eyes lowered shamelessly. Then he reached out and grasped her by the shoulder.

She felt a hitch in her breath that synced with a boom of thunder and realized the water had risen to her navel.

Jareth's hand gripped her firmly then moved down, pulling her sleeve and her vest along with it. His eyes remained fixed, focused on the skin that revealed itself; her pale, damp, tantalizing skin.

She shrugged out of the sleeve and let the other fall from her into the water.

He took a step around her, which caused her to angle herself flat against the wall. His arm caged her, now pressed at eye-level beside her head. He was wearing a cape, which floated and billowed out atop the water. She sucked in her stomach as awareness hit her, and the thunder crashed louder still.

"Take that off," he told her, his eyes rising to hers only briefly, glazed with a dangerous kind of longing that had a delicious knot twisting deep in her abdomen. She pressed her thighs together and reached behind herself, wordlessly, as she unhooked her bra. Her eyes were trained on his face, eager to witness his hunger for her; but his head only tilted, his lowered gaze fixated and expectant on her chest.

She brought in her elbows as she maneuvered out of her bra, pushing together her breasts that now felt heavy with nipples already peaked. Jareth made a noise in the back of his throat, something guttural and appreciative. He lowered his head and kissed her there, sucking in the flesh of her breast as his tongue curled around the hardened bud of a nipple. She gasped and inched a little up the wall. His hands rose to cup them, to knead them, and pinch them as his mouth moved tenderly between the two.

Her hand rose to the back of his head and held him, savouring his movements as her legs spread. She was starting to feel weightless, and she felt the water hit her ribs.

She glanced down, a distracted half-smile on her face.

"We're going to drown," she said, with little-to-no alarm. Jareth sucked on one of her nipples and pulled it back. She moaned and he bit down just barely.

"Are we?" he replied. He sounded unfazed, uninterrupted as his hands pushed up her breasts to meet each of his kisses. Sarah turned her head to the side and gulped.

"Jareth-" she said, breathily, and suddenly clawed a hand into his hair and jerked him up. The ends of his hair were wet, darkened, along with his eyes that stared through her as he kissed her on a hot, laboured breath. Their teeth met and their tongues curled, and they breathed into one another. It felt cold all of the sudden. Cold and wet. The water was to their shoulders. She could feel herself being lifted from the floor -but that was only because Jareth had taken her by the ass and done so.

"You're losing focus," he said, sounding just as breathless and distracted as she. His eyes were partially closed, his mouth searingly hot against the artery in her neck which pulsated wildly for him. "I suggest you do something before we really do drown."

Sarah took a deep breath and looked to the ceiling. It was dark. Black. She tried to focus but Jareth was intentionally making it difficult. His gloved hands were toying with her nipples and he sucked hard on the flesh of her neck. The water was nearing their throats. Was rising much too steadily. She closed her eyes and focused. Focused on the fact that drowning did not matter. The water rose above their heads and for the briefest of moments she held her breath. The sound of the rain, of the thunder, and the smell of pine and magic, dirt, and rot faded. It all faded. Everything but the feeling of Jareth holding her to him.

When she opened her eyes, they were weightless. She peered around and the sight of her hair, of Jareth's hair, drifted slowly in space around them. It was dark. Near black. And yet somehow she could see them both clearly. Jareth pulled away from her and held her by the hips as their eyes locked.

His hair moved about the frame of his face with gentle grace, and she thought, with a terrible pang deep in her chest, that she'd never seen something so close to angelic.

A billow of white caught her eye and she realized she was wearing a dress once more.

"Are we underwater?" she asked. The atmosphere felt strange. Thick. Like wading through water. She breathed deeply, as if surprised she could do so, and let her arms move in elegant flutters around her. Jareth held onto her as her movements caused them to turn, his clothing -now as black and glittering as the space around them- melded into a cape that now slowly encompassed them both.

"You tell me," he said, and turned them again. They became tangled in his cape, her body pressing flush against his. She brought her hands to his neck, to hold onto him as she steadied herself. It felt as if she might drift away from the slightest push.

She looked down and saw a fractured glimmer far removed in the direction of their feet.

"That's the surface…" she said, to herself. Jareth regarded her with a cool stare, warring with himself whether or not to toss her into it.

But she looked so perfect. So ethereal. A true goddess, unbound to the ways of any world. Perhaps he would cherish her for just a moment longer. As if sensing his thoughts, she peered to him slowly.

"Jareth…" she started, and he watched her brow furrow. "Don't you dare throw me in there."

He grinned and she shot her look back at him. Just as his hands tightened on her hips, did hers fist in the collar of his jacket. She pulled, roughly, until they keeled and rolled, and landed on something soft.

The fractures were clouds breaking the night sky. And the glimmer was the moon.

Sarah laid overtop Jareth as he reclined in the grass coating a gentle hillside. A low breeze caught the ends of their hair, no longer wet and heavy, and rustled the field and the trees around them. The light of the moon shone brightly on his face, paling him and rendering him something truly of another world. His hair looked silver, his body revealed only by the suggestion of highlight from the jewels that glittered down his torso.

She wasn't sure what she'd planned on doing next, but as their gazes remained locked, another deep pang hammered in her chest, and she could not stop herself from pulling him to her as she kissed him avidly.

Jareth's hands wound into her hair and he drew up a knee as she ground herself against his thigh. Her knees pressed into the dirt and she panted sweetly as she bit at his lips. Her kisses were starved, relentless, demanding in a way that he almost gave in to. She was trying to manipulate him, have her selfish way, when he _really was_ trying to test her.

He smiled, bringing his hands to hold the sides of her face as he gave her one last, achingly-drawn-out kiss.

"You're getting off track," he said, amusedly, though he breathed just as heavily as her. Sarah moistened her lips and ran her fingers through his hair.

"Does it matter?"

In lieu of a response, Jareth rolled her onto her back and pressed her hard into the ground. She gasped and moved herself against him. She could feel his erection hardening against her thigh and fought desperately to feel it thrusting against her sex instead.

One of Jareth's hands went to her throat, to grip the pale, vulnerable column like a vice. He squeezed, forcing her to arch back to catch a breath. And his other hand fisted in her hair, holding her in that position as he finally lowered his hips and pressed the length of his cock against her.

Sarah's returning moan was flighty, though not without a trace hint of apprehension.

"You're supposed to be focusing, Sarah," Jareth whispered, a dangerous tenor that sent a shiver down her spine. She swallowed hard but the pressure on her throat only intensified. Her hands pulled at his hair, distracting him just well enough to angle her head down. He growled from the surprise of it, the glare he'd meant to give her cut short by her kiss.

She pushed against his hold on her neck, not caring, nor needing, to breathe. He kissed her hungrily, used all his might to push her back into the dirt and failed beautifully. He bit her lip hard and she drew back, wincing, as he tasted the tang of blood on the tip of his tongue. Ignoring it, Sarah's hands left his hair and traveled down, feeling along the ruffles and buttons of his coat before getting to the buckle on his belt. She jerked it loose and deftly freed him of the buttons on the high waist of his trousers. Her hands reached beneath the fabric demandingly.

His cock felt hot in her hands, both hard and soft as she appreciated the velvety feel of his skin. She jerked him and he pulsed, growing in length, and she hummed in approval as he continued to kiss her. She pumped him again, constricting her hand around him in a tight little fist, and elicited a glorious moan from him. He broke their kiss and ground his hips into her, his hold on her neck weakening with distraction. She reveled in the jolt of pleasure that shot through her groin as the head of his dick pressed against her clit, and she pumped him a little faster.

"Sarah…" Jareth said, roughly, in warning, and pulled away from her to regain composure. She was getting distracted again. They both were. The clouds creeped ever slowly.

"You like that?" she asked, airily, and wanton, and sounding unbelievably intoxicating. Her lips curled in a smile and she angled her head back to nip at his chin. "You like when I jerk you off?"

Jareth closed his eyes as a spurt of precum dampened the confine of his pants. Fuck. Her thumb pressed against the sensitive spot beneath the head and he shuddered. She was so bold. It was like she didn't even care what they'd come here to do. Her tone had risen an octave as she'd said that, as she'd smiled and stared at him with heavy-lidded eyes.

"I worry you're not taking this seriously, love," he said, forcing a bit of cheer into the words. Sarah found new confidence in the waver she sensed in his voice and continued unshaken.

"Seems to me, I'm taking things more seriously than you can handle, Goblin King," she taunted, taking his lip between her teeth and returned his gesture by biting until the skin broke. Jareth growled and ran his tongue along the wound, then along her own as he kissed her once more.

She didn't notice his hand refasten around her neck, nor the way he angled his thumb under her chin. She did however, gasp in pain when that thumb pressed, unforgivingly, up into the submental space of her chin. Her head thrust back sharply and she cried out. The jolt of pain caught her by surprise, though only made her angry as it confirmed his accusation. She scowled and forced it away. He was being an ass again.

Her hand, still tight around his cock, pulled on him roughly, hoping it hurt more than pleased, and watched him with satisfaction as he grimaced and flinched away from her.

"It's going to rain Jareth. Are you sure you don't want to come first?"

He moaned and constricted her neck harder. His free hand had released her hair and now fisted in the grass as he contended against this dirty, vile, little vixen. The clouds of the coming storm were blackening out the night sky, and a new heady rumble coursed through the air. She could feel his resolve slipping. Feel his resentment over the fact, and the urge to attack her that he just barely restrained. She moved her hands over him in ways she'd learned pleased him, in ways she knew would bind him to her. He moaned. Finally. His eyes screwed shut as his grip under her jaw fell lax. She felt him throb again. He was going to come.

She smiled wickedly as a jolt of static shot from her hand straight unto him.

Jareth recoiled from her with a hoarse clamor and glared at her with a dangerous look of both surprise and anger. She laughed at him. Laughed at him. Then took him by the shoulders and rolled.

"Don't lecture me on becoming distracted," she whispered in his ear, before letting him go to fall, supposedly endlessly, into oblivion.

Sarah leaned up and smoothed out the skirt of her dress. She was alone, with nothing but the moon and the pounding of her heart for company. This was just too much fun. It was dangerous how much fun it was. She bit her lips to suppress a naughty smile as she drew her knees up to her chest and hugged them. Jareth would be back at any moment, but it did not scare her. He was having just as much fun as she was. Still, she sighed, hoping he wouldn't be too fervid in his revenge. She wanted to enjoy the view a little while longer.

She took a deep breath and turned her gaze to the sky.

The clouds dispersed. All of them. And in their wake, the stars, and the planets, and the moon itself moved closer just for her. She gazed up at it, at the humbling, unequivocal beauty of it, and sighed. It was quiet. Deathly quiet. Though she knew he was now sitting beside her.

Jareth regarded her carefully, etching to memory the faint curl of her lips and the wilting expression of awe that kept her eyes away from him as his frustrations simmered. Her hands squeezed her arms and she leaned towards him, brushing her shoulder against his before peering over at him with the same pleasant smile.

"I'm not sorry," she said, teasingly. Jareth cracked a grin, feeling any call for retribution die in the wake of that smile. He huffed, his eyes falling over her absently.

"You're quite cruel when you're sleeping," he said. Sarah's grin widened and she looked away.

"You are my teacher." She fiddled with her hands as she gazed at the moon. It hung large, unnaturally so, and just barely out of arm's reach. She shone beautifully under it. Paled and yet still vibrant, still so very much alive and formidable behind a marbled sheen.

"Fair enough," he replied and reclined his hands behind his head as he laid back against the grass. "That is...quite a beautiful rendering," he added, in a more subdued tone. Sarah tore her eyes away from the sky and looked down to him.

"It is, isn't it?"

"You're getting better." There was pride in those words, however subtle. Sarah quirked a brow and glanced away.

"You haven't made it particularly challenging," she said, feeling a little arrogant. She felt so much freer here. So unencumbered and….strong. Maybe that was because it was the only way she and Jareth could play on equal footing. The things she could do to him here...the power she held over him...The things he had_ taught_ her to do...

"I don't want to scare you," he said, shifting his posture and gazing up into the stars. "I can only push so far...and you're nowhere near ready to travel a nightmare." Sarah peered down to him discreetly. He shrugged, a vacant look of displeasure creasing his face. "And...in all honesty, I'm not sure I want to give you a nightmare. At all." His tone was mellow but she knew the weight of those words. Dreams had become something formidable since she returned to the Underground, and the nightmares had been devastating. It would be beneficial for her to be able to control one, though she empathized with his apprehension.

"I know," she said, turning her thoughts away from such things. It was dangerous given their current circumstances. "That dog though...that was interesting. How did you know I was afraid of that thing?" she asked, deflecting. Jareth's eyes traveled the sky, moving from one too-bright star to the next. She wondered if he knew she was watching him, appraising him and all his fine-figure with something less than subtlety.

"It was one of your more poignant childhood memories. It wasn't difficult to gleam." And then she glanced away. That dog was a source of trauma from her childhood, a neighborhood mongrel that had tried to attack her on more than one occasion. It should have bothered her that he could divulge such personal moments, with vivid clarity, from her mind without her consent, but it didn't. It only made her more intrigued.

"Will I learn to gleam memories like that one day?" There was hope in her voice, eagerness, and a slippery-slope that Jareth could not stop himself from grinning at.

"Probably not. You need to be the invader to perform such feats."

Sarah pursed her lips, feeling a new and peculiar resentment of her humanity.

"Ah...a glimpse into one of your dreams. Now that would be something," she said, trying to imagine the holy hell of a trip that would be.

"I could perhaps...contrive a way, if you're really interested. Although...I don't think that would be advisable under the best conditions," Jareth said, and she looked down at him with a curious eye.

"Why?"

"Being an intruder, my behavior here is limited. As you're learning, it is the dreamer who holds all of the power -when you're able to control it, at least," he explained. Sarah's pursed lips curled into a faint smirk and her eyes narrowed.

"Is that your polite way of threatening me, Goblin King?" she asked. Jareth smiled, broadly, a look she appreciated to the fullest as the light of the moon illuminated him.

"Yes," he said, and brought his eyes to hers. "As I'm sure you've gathered, one's inhibitions are severely diminished in a dream. I fear, to have you at the mercy of my subconscious, I might actually _eat_ you." He gave her a playful wince as he said that, as he leaned up slowly towards her. She noted a shift in him then, a sly shade that sharpened the reflection of the moon in his eyes. He wasn't as playful as he seemed.

"I see...that would be bad," she said, warily. He was leaning towards her with his weight on one hand as the other casually snaked over her.

"Yes. It would be," he replied, impassively, and encroached further. She was forced to lean back, to recline against the ground as he hovered over her. He lowered to rest on his forearms, placed on either side of her, and his playful, precarious smile glinted in shadow -his angled incisors reminiscent of fangs. "At least here...precisely_ how_ I eat you is solely on your terms."

Sarah's eyes widened and she gulped. It was fun messing with him, but when he was serious he really knew what the fuck he was doing. His hair was near-white, his face darkened to the color of steel, where an actual glimmer danced in his eyes. Everything about him seemed to physically acuate, until he looked very much a predator and she the prey. She found her hands yielding and submissive, turned palm-up on either side of her head. There was something unnatural about him, something dastardly that perhaps her subconscious had rendered. Regardless, the visage suited him. It suited him far too well.

Jareth's grin stretched on one side and he lowered his head to plant a kiss at the well of her throat.

He could feel her heart quickening, thumping loudly as she took in a deep breath. He moved lower. Planted a kiss over her sternum. Her breast. The material of his jacket crinkled as he moved, wordlessly, while his shoulders hunched and contorted as he slowly kissed his way down the center of her abdomen.

Her legs spread for him and his hands, now bare, held them wide at the base of each thigh. Her body bowed to each of his kisses, each delicate, pointed peck that was anything but chaste. She was starting to squirm beneath him, feeling far too aroused from such meager affections. She watched as he leaned away from her, kneeling between her bent knees as he took one of her legs and extended it. He kissed the inside of her thigh, held his lips against her skin, and then dragged his teeth in sharp promise further up it.

Sarah breathed through an open mouth as she watched him, watched him work so carefully up the length of her thigh. He started to bend forward as his tender nips approached her groin, and his hands pushed the skirt of her dress up to her waist.

She'd forgotten he'd taken away her underwear. He hadn't.

Jareth lowered himself to the ground and peered at her discreetly. She was watching him, her body tense with anticipation. He smiled as he kissed the junction of her thigh and breathed a hot breath across her cunt, which he knew constricted and trembled with yearning.

He waited another moment, enjoying her impatience, and then kissed the junction of her other thigh. He heard her inhale sharply, saw her chest rise from the ground. He kissed the flesh concealing her clit and she whimpered, the sound high and cut short. He could smell her growing arousal, could see it in the sliver of her eyes. He averted his gaze from the danger poised in such a tempting expression.

He opened his mouth and ran a careful tongue along her cleft.

Sarah's body jerked but she stifled her moan to yet another begrudging whimper. Her head was cast back, her eyes screwed shut as she waited. Another hot breath flushed against her and her muscles flexed. His hands were gripping the underside of her thighs, and she felt them tighten on her as well.

He extended his tongue and licked her again, oh-so-slowly, from bottom to top. Her body opened for him, wet and greedy, but he refused her. Instead he kissed her, boldly, over flesh that wanted to be penetrated so anxiously. He sucked on her clit and her hips moved with him.

"Ah...Jareth…" she moaned, finally. The sound of his name on her lips in such a submissive, pleading tone aroused him -as it always did- and he sucked on her a little harder. She moaned again, louder, and drew up her knees to cage him. His hands tightened and pushed her legs apart. Her hips rocked up against his face as an acute pang had her channel quivering with the need to be filled.

"Do you want me inside you?" he asked, and she moaned.

"Yes. Please…"

Oh, what a sound. What a sight. Her back bowed again and her hands reached up to massage her breasts. Her toes were curling in the grass and she breathed heavily. In reward for such a beautiful display, he ran his tongue along her opening again, pressing in a little harder as the flesh split eagerly. He tasted her, something robust and saccharine -like honey. He lost control for a moment and allowed his tongue to penetrate her. He delved inside, and hummed as she moaned, as he sucked at her sweetness. He murmured into her and her hips bucked, fighting against his hold that now clamped and pinned her to the ground. He lapped at her cunt, savouring the feel and the taste of her body with eyes closed. He felt her muscles spasming around him, her body trying its best to pull his tongue deeper. He felt his dick throb and he ground himself against the hard earth.

When he pulled away from her, she was panting. She was breathless and hot, and took in one uneven breath after another. The wetness left in his wake brought a chill to her as he breathed against the sensitive skin, and she shook her head to regain focus. Watching her carefully, Jareth unfurled his tongue again and probed her with painstaking subtlety. Her body braced, and then jolted when a static-shock shot through her cunt.

She gasped and leaned up on her elbows, glaring down at him with alarm.

"What the hell?" she asked, winded and bemused. Jareth tilted his head from between her thighs and regarded her shrewdly.

"You didn't think I'd forgotten your indescretion, did you?"

Sarah blinked. Her expression flushed and deeply disconcerted. With their eyes locked, he lowered his mouth on her and opened it wide as his tongue bore deep. She felt another tremble, a sharp, tantalizing sensation, emanating from the tip of his tongue.

He withdrew and smiled at her look of worry.

"Don't worry pet, I shan't be so cruel to you and cause you pain," he said, slowly lowering his eyes as he kissed her again. "...Though you certainly deserve it…" The vibration amplified, coursed through her abdomen, and had her moaning on reflex. Her mouth dropped open and her hands fisted as she watched. He looked engrossed, enthralled even, by the mere taste of her. She felt her mouth watering as his tongue twirled, jutting in and out, and the surprising jolt came again.

"I thought...you wanted me...to avoid...feeling things," she said, panting between breaths. Her head was slowly casting back, her body inching upward as Jareth's mouth pressed into her harder and harder. The vibration from his tongue increased with each movement and she felt herself growing hot with arousal.

When he'd first started teaching her the art of lucid-dreaming, Sarah was surprised to learn that she could in fact _feel_ things, that sensation was as much the whim of the dreamer as it was the invader. All those times when he'd violated her and she'd woken to a memory and nothing else… He'd said he was toying with her back then. That he'd wanted any true sensation she felt to be in flesh. He went on to assure her, quickly, that he could in fact _allow _her to feel a great deal. And that it would be very, very real.

Her prerogative was to abstain from physical sensations. Between his tongue, and the static, and the tickle of the grass, the chill of the air, and the heat blooming between her legs, she knew she was failing miserably.

Jareth wielded the power of the storm on the tip of his tongue, and it was all she could do to dispel the clouds now looming overhead.

"That was then," he said, roughly, as he released one of her thighs and thrust two of his fingers within her. Sarah shrieked and squirmed against him. He was becoming aggressive, fucking her with his fingers as he sucked on her clit. His hand moved in and out, long and deep, and the quaking, electric sensation built within her again. Now it was stronger, unbearable, and she fought for the freedom of her legs as they tried to brace against him. She was moaning loudly, fervidly, and her hands reached down to pull at his hair. She bucked her hips onto his hand, wanting so much more and yet unable to handle what he was already giving her. She felt her insides vibrating, her stomach turning in knots, something deep within teetering on the edge of explosion.

Jareth added a third finger and the wet, smacking sound of his efforts grew louder as her fluids coated his hand and dripped down to his wrist. He pulled his mouth away and looked up as the orgasm hit her, as it wracked through her body in violent undulations she tried so desperately to tame. He pushed his hand as far as it would go, stretched her, and curled his fingers against something that sent her immediately over the edge a second time. She screamed. Screamed beautifully. With hunger, Jareth withdrew his hand and grabbed her by the ass, pushing her up to his mouth as he tasted the glorious fluids that poured out of her. She was still moaning, still suffering aftershocks, but he showed her no mercy. His tongue delved within her swollen flesh, flicked over her over-sensitized nub, and he groaned, he groaned like an animal as he took from her, and then tore himself away sharply.

He crawled over her and stared into her eyes. She was breathless, gaping, and very much turned on by the glistening sheen that smeared across his face.

"What do you smell?" he asked. Sarah took a deep breath and blinked, forgetting this was still a test. She opened her mouth to speak, but her mind was in shambles and her hands fisted in her hair with pent up frustration. How the hell was she supposed to focus right now?

"Uh...Um...Nothing. I smell nothing," she said, failing to notice the clouds slowly retreat from the sky. Jareth continued to stare at her, his expression stoned with his own growing need to ravage her.

_Pine and magic, dirt, and rot_. Smell was a sensation that could never be natural to a dream. Jareth had told her to use such things as a cornerstone, to help orient herself whenever she became lost or distracted. The smell of the forest, it was the first thing she'd sensed. The first realization that she was dreaming. And so she'd clung to it, used it as a reminder whenever she was getting off track. She did not smell it now. Despite Jareth's efforts, despite the warring of the storm, she was still focused. She was still in control. She was getting better.

"Good," he said, in approval it seemed. His posture swayed above her as his eyes scanned her greedily. His hips were between her thighs, and she could feel his erection as it pressed against her. She rocked herself against it and he groaned. Hm, it seemed neither of them were holding back sensation.

"Can you do that in the real world?" she asked. Jareth's grin cocked on one side and he gazed at her dangerously.

"I could...though elemental magic is much safer here." She was grinding herself against him, bringing him to distraction, which was a strain made plainly evident in his voice. He bore his weight on his hands on either side of her, and gave in to reciprocate her movements, tauntingly for them both.

"Why?" she asked, as if she were solely focused on the conversation. Jareth's eyes closed briefly as he felt his cock throb. When they opened, they were darker. Hooded.

"Because nothing is real. The body...is not real." His voice wavered as a hand rose to lightly trace the hem of her neckline. But soon, even that modest effort of restraint gave way as his fingers splayed and groped at her breast. "For instance…" he continued, forcing his tone to remain level as fierce pruriency weighed his words. He brought a pointed index finger to hover over the bodice of her dress, and her eyes darted to it. The light of a flame sparked at his finger tip, soft and mesmerizing. Her eyes widened as he pressed it firmly into the material covering her bosom.

He trailed it down her slowly, agonizingly, as they both watched the fabric burn and flutter away from her. He saw the swell of her breasts reveal themselves, the rosy peaks of her nipples hardening as the night air found them. He wanted to kiss them, to suck them and bite, and hear her scream once more. They swelled, perking on her chest. It would be so easy...

But he didn't. Instead he leaned away from her and withdrew his hand.

"I could burn the fabric from that sumptuous body of yours at any time...but whether or not you would be burned in the process is another matter. Here it is easy. You simply do what you imagine doing." And the tip of his finger lowered to the valley between her breasts once more. He dragged it lower, backing off of her and sitting on his knees as he trailed his hand ever down. She sucked in her stomach, but only watched in silence as the glow of embers and soot silently danced up into the air. The fire creeped, curled around her body, and left her totally exposed and vulnerable against the ever-commanding scrutiny of Jareth, The Goblin King. There was no pain. No heat. No feeling at all. Other than the insatiable hunger that coursed between them.

"And these are things I can do, too…" she said, not quite asking. Jareth grinned. There was a passion in her eyes that had nothing to do with him. She had taken to his training more readily than he'd anticipated and, more often than not, took advantage of the pseudo-power such a place gave her. He knew she felt powerful. He knew she felt equal to him. It was a relief, if nothing else. Invigorating foreplay for the disaster he was surely preparing her for.

He leaned over her again and pinched her nipples before sucking on each one in turn. When he withdrew, there was a new challenge in his gaze.

"My dear...there are many things you can do."

He reclined to his knees, and she watched eagerly as he unbuttoned and shrugged out of his jacket. He untied the scarf at his throat and pulled the hem of his shirt from his pants before casting both over his head and off to the grass behind him. Sarah swallowed. The moon was large and hung directly behind him, limning him in silver light that gave him an ethereal glow. He was too perfect. Her goddamned dreams made him too perfect.

"Touch yourself," he ordered, and she blinked out of her gander. He was staring down at her, his eyes hard and expectant. His chest was broad and his hips narrow, and her eyes traveled down to his hands that were now loosening the buckle on his belt.

Unblinking, Sarah ran her hands along her body, rising to her breasts and groping them as he watched her. She panted faintly, rolled her nipples and drew them out as her body moved against nothing but air. Her thighs squeezed against his knees, her pelvis impatient to feel the pressure of his pushing down on her once more.

"Lower," he said, and she obeyed. Her hands moved down her waist, over her stomach, and gripped her thighs provocatively before two fingers moved to rub gentle circles over her delicate bundle of nerves. She watched him as he pulled the belt from his pants in one swift movement and popped open the fly. He freed himself and his cock, large and throbbing, fell heavily into his hand. He began to pump himself, jerking firmly from base to head as he watched her pleasure herself.

Sarah moaned at the mere sight of him.

He gripped himself tighter and moved a little faster. She could see him lengthening, see the veins in his shaft pulsating as his breath laboured. His arm flexed with each movement and she noted the way the light of the moon caught on a vein that protruded from his bicep. She could feel herself growing wet again, nearly dripping with the need to be filled and fucked by a creature so virile. A drop of cum beaded the tip and he groaned. Sarah's fingers moved lower, tracing her folds teasingly.

"Are you wet, Sarah?" he asked, raising one brow in a false smile as his jaw tightened. Sarah ran her tongue along her dry, open lips, and nodded.

"Yes…" she said, demure.

Feeling his cock pulse in his hand, he reached for hers and suddenly pushed her own fingers within her.

"Then feel it," he urged, his voice lowering to a dark, lascivious growl. Sarah gasped and did as he wanted, pushing two of her thin fingers inside herself as deeply as she could manage. His look on her was turning feral, aggressive, reflected by the violent engorgement of his cock that he continued to pump in long angled thrusts just for her. Her tongue darted out of her mouth at the sight of it. She wanted him inside of her. She wanted him hot and coming and moaning and forcefully pinning her down…

Sarah moaned louder and threw her head back. She was getting more aroused than she wanted and could feel herself approaching another climax. She panted, desperately, a sound that only amplified when two of Jareth's fingers joined hers to plunge within her channel.

Jareth groaned and kneeled over her. His fingers, longer, thicker, and far more skillful than hers, penetrated her deeply, the heel of his hand pressing her own over her clit with an inciting pressure. He stretched her, felt the soft cushion of her insides and the firmness of her fingers as they trembled without direction. He guided her rhythm, encouraged her to move faster, sharper, and she continued to moan in response. One of her legs straightened, allowing him to adjust his stance and rear over her at eye-level. She could feel the head of his cock jutting against her stomach, wettened and hot.

He buried his face in the crook of her neck and flushed her with the heat of his breath as he moaned. She arched her neck for him, willing him to bite down, and lifted her stomach up against his knuckles as they moved faster and faster. Her belly was smeared with his fluids, and she could tell from the sharp inflection in both their breaths that climax was imminent.

"Sarah...your cunt is so wet. So greedy. Come for me, you filthy thing."

His words were muffled in her hair but absolutely torrid. Her cries of pleasure turned high and she trembled against him. He was fucking her so thoroughly with their hands she could no longer stand it. She felt the knot in her abdomen tighten, felt the pang that shot through her groin because of it, and shrieked. She bowed, clawing her free hand around his shoulder and digging into it viciously.

Jareth gasped, groaned, and shuddered as the pain threw him over the edge. His fist gripped himself fiercely as he came, in a searing mess, across her stomach. Sarah's cunt was constricting around their hands, pushing their fingers together in a prolonged moment of rapture. He imagined the feeling around his cock. Imagined the heat, and the moisture, and the soft muscle jerking every last bit of seed that instead spilled down her abdomen and over the sides of her ribs.

Breathing raggedly, Jareth pulled away from her and sat back on his heels. He withdrew his hands and flicked the one that had been holding his cock in the air, casting away stray traces of cum. Sarah scooched up a little, her chest rising and falling heavily as she watched him. Without a word he reached for her legs and placed them over his shoulders. She leaned back to the ground and he followed, crouching over her as he positioned himself at her swollen entrance. His erection was perfectly renewed, gloriously hard and pulsing, and filled her fully as he pressed inside.

Sarah had learned that a thing like stamina did not exist in a dream. Bodily fatigue had no place here. It did not matter what they did, nor how many times they did it. They could fuck for days, and years, and milennia, sucumbing to the pleasure of orgasm limitlessly. They could live and die within her mind -he'd told her this and more, made the argument sound quite poetic if not disturbingly tempting.

She was glad for such freedom, as the pain a number of their exploits put her through was not something she could have handled in the real world. But this was training. Pain was something she did not have to feel. Here it didn't matter. It didn't matter if he was rough, or selfish, or violent. Here she could inflict the same. Here she could make him feel everything and nothing all at once. As he pushed deeper within her, bent her legs to her chest as he reared over her, she closed her eyes and felt it all. It was acute, and sublime, and so much more poignant than the smell of pine and magic, dirt, and rot.

Jareth thrust into her slowly, only about half way, and then pulled out. Sarah moaned with impatience and threw her head back. He pushed forward again, and again, teasing her and bringing her unforgivingly close to the edge but never allowing her close enough.

Sarah growled and jerked her hips, hoping to sink him further into her but he pulled back just in time. He put his weight into his shoulders that pressed into the back of her knees, pinning them to her chest and hopelessly to the ground. Her hands clawed around his back, pulling on him in a frustrated plea.

Jareth ran his nose along her cheek, his tender expression contrasting greatly to the vehemence of her own. He pressed into her again, just one inch farther, and held himself there. She started to pant, to grow hot in the face, and turned her expression with all its pitiful need towards him beseechingly. She kissed him, and he let her. She kissed him agonizingly, carelessly, with a wet tongue and lips that plundered his only too-receptive mouth. He ran a hand through her hair and pulled out of her.

"Tell me what you want," he said, softly. Sarah bit her lip.

"I want you to fuck me."

He didn't know why, but a part of him was anticipating she'd put up more of a fight. He almost laughed. Her eyes on him were intense, at wit's end, bright and glistening and glaring with passion. He blinked for a moment, savouring a look of such shameless lust, and then sheathed himself in her fully.

Sarah's jaw dropped and her gasp turned to a high-pitched squeal. Her hands constricted around his shoulders and she fought for a semblence of control as Jareth began to fuck her mercilessly. He held her locked in place, her hips turned up as he plunged, at the perfect angle, in and out of her repeatedly. He filled her to the hilt and pulled all the way back each time, unforgivingly. Over, and over, and over. Her moans turned low, turned to screams, became untethered, unbidden things.

He gasped and screwed his eyes shut. She felt so fucking good at this angle. The cavern of her body opened and was absolutely perfect. He fucked her harder, harder, against her outbursts and cries of pain. The hand that could reach fisted in her hair and jerked her head back. He bit the flesh of her neck that was offered, and sucked, brutally, until the sweet taste of blood glazed his tongue.

Sarah screamed, in terrible euphoria, as sensation wracked through her being. It was too much. Too intense. Too close to pain and yet not close enough.

The feeling of water pooling around them was not enough to call back her attention and she closed her eyes as she called out his name. She wanted him to stop. She needed to breathe. No. No, she had no reason to breathe.

She could hear him moaning wildly at her ear and felt an orgasmic flood building within her. She felt the cool air of the storm breeze over her, and with it came the scent of pine and magic, dirt, and rot.

The water rose higher, over their limbs, between their torsos. Sarah felt her muscles clench yet again. Felt her body thrown into spasm as climax threatened to destroy her. She yearned for it, begged for it, begged him to give it to her. And then the loud, jarring, boom of thunder tore her wide awake.

* * *

Sarah opened her eyes to find herself huddled in the fetal position, her hands tense and rigid between her thighs. She was laying on her side, and her eyes fluttered open to meet Jareth's in a state of vehement agitation.

He was already watching her, propped on his side on an elbow. Apparently, she'd been doing something interesting.

"You got distracted again," he said, dryly. Sarah scowled and glared away. She rolled onto her back and tore her hands from her groin. It was throbbing. Actually throbbing to the point of pain. She was angry, aroused, and so, so deeply unsatisfied. She was pulled from her rage by Jareth's hand clasping around her wrist. He pulled her back to face him, and she realized there was something misty still lingering in his eyes. "Don't stop."

There was a command in his voice, something low and serious. Sarah's eyes locked with his and her annoyance quelled. She glanced down and saw he was hard, that he was grasping himself through his pants. Sarah's mouth went dry, sexual frustration taking control, as she reached back down to her groin and pleasured herself without reservation.

She closed her eyes and pressed her thighs together. It was always the same. Everything they felt in her dreams added and waited to torture them tenfold by the time they awoke. She was overstimulated. Irritated. Turned on, and impatient. She didn't even care that Jareth was there with her. She just wanted to come. Now. She pressed her fingers against her clit and moaned, her head bowing back against her pillow as her body turned towards him a little more. She heard him exhale roughly, but did not witness him. She couldn't.

He grasped her by the jaw and kissed her, swallowed her moans and her panting breaths, and urged for her body to undulate against him. His free hand tore hers away and then went to the small of her back as he pushed their pelvises together. His erection ground hard against her, harder than even in her dream. She whimpered and curled her leg around his hip, holding him to her as she searched for oblivion. His hand was gripping her ass, holding her possessively as he bit on her lip.

Sarah came. Loudly. The feeling hitting her in waves that coursed through her cunt. It was better than she'd anticipated, and left her breathless and dying. Her hands grasped his face and she kissed him again, for all she was worth.

After a long moment the torrent within her subsided, but not completely. She grabbed him by the shoulder and rolled them until she sat straddling his hips. His chest rose high on a tamed breath but she knew he was feeling just as undone as she had been. She ran her hands down his torso, firmly and dexterously, over the white cotton of his shirt, and pushed open the low neckline. She shifted herself lower, straddling his thighs, and planted hot, open-mouth kisses down his chest.

She licked him. Tore away the fabric of his shirt and sucked on his nipples. He hissed and gripped the back of her head, angling her as she scraped against him with her teeth.

She continued to crawl lower, clawing for the hem of his shirt and pushing it up so she could kiss down the center of his stomach. The muscles of his abdominals tensed, hardening under the heat of her mouth. She traced her tongue around his navel and moved lower still.

Her hands found his pants and quickly tore them open. She pulled his cock free, now physical and vigorous, which filled both her hands. He moaned at her touch, at her greedy and anything but delicate manner.

She took a moment to feel him, to jerk him, and apprise him, and take in every little detail. He was vascular and velvety, and so fucking hard. She grabbed one of his hands and fisted it around himself, coaxing it to life before letting go.

"I like watching you do this," she said, breathily, and locked onto his gaze as he stared down at her. His jaw tensed and his hips churned, warring whether or not to let her have her way. He continued to pump the base of his cock, watching her intently as she extended her tongue and ran it over the head.

"Fuck," he bit out, a small jolt of precum betraying him as he cast his head back to the pillow. Sarah ran her tongue over him again, tasting the fluid and licking it clean. His cock twitched in his hand and she kissed her way down the shaft. His breathing started to escalate, but she was nowhere close to through with him.

She shifted into a more comfortable position between his legs and left provocative kisses all around the head of Jareth's dick. At her behest, he continued to jerk himself off, growing harder and harder from the restraint of it. She ran her tongue over his knuckles, up the length of him, and pressed against the sensitive spot beneath the head. He moaned again, beautifully, and paused in his rhythm. Sarah seized the moment and took him in her mouth. His hips moved but she held him down, lowering her mouth to meet his hand and then pulling back sharply. She tasted another shot of cum hitting her tongue and sucked for more.

He was trembling, trying so hard not to let her undo him. And it only emboldened her more. She hummed as she sucked him, as her saliva spread and dripped down his shaft and onto his hand. He retightened his grip and jerked himself harder, faster. She pulled away from him and left another series of kisses down his shaft, over each pulsing vein that curved around it.

"Are you ready to come for me, Jareth?" she asked, and his response was a begrudging moan in the back of his throat. Sarah grinned. He was being such a gentleman. Perhaps she should put him out of his misery.

She reached below and cupped his balls, feeling for that spot she'd discovered would bend him to her will in an instant.

She found it and his entire body bowed. He groaned and she took him deep into her mouth before he had the chance to come. She sucked on him, maneuvered him with her tongue, and murmured in appraisal as he throbbed, and shuddered, and moaned gloriously all for her.

"Gods, woman. Just do it already." His voice was hoarse, impatient, frustrated just as hers had been. She almost smiled. She had him teetering on the edge and it seemed she really did have the power to keep him there. He was jerking himself off vigorously now, the sound and the sight of which being deeply erotic to her. She pressed her fingers against him more firmly and lifted her mouth to just barely tease the head.

Jareth's hips turned up, thrusting against her lips as the first true shot of cum coated them. She lowered her mouth over him and sucked as he came in spurts one after another. She swallowed, pulled him deep to the back of her throat, and took him for all he had. He was moaning. His hand had stilled at the base of his cock, and the other now fisted aggressively at the crown of her head as the orgasm endured. She breathed sharply through her nose and continued to suck until his body relaxed, until his hips lowered to the bed and his erection softened over her tongue. Finally, she pulled away from him, though his grip in her hair was more hesitant to release her.

She crawled up the length of his body and laid over him. Her hands folded over his chest and she kissed him. His hand knotted in her hair again and pinned her in place as he licked over her lips. The sight of her, bright-eyed and dripping with his cum, was far too provoking. Even now. When she was clean, he kissed her again and she responded with equal fervor. Traveling her dreams had become more of a game than a lesson, and a dangerous, libidinous one at that.

"I think I did better than last time," she said, murmuring between kisses as if sensing his thoughts. He pulled away from her and ran his nose along hers.

"You did. Though you have yet to make it to the end. I'm starting to think you don't want to." His voice was still rough, still worn and faintly aroused. She closed her eyes briefly as she composed herself.

"You're the one who's making failure worth my while. I'm not complaining. I don't think you are either." She smiled and pulled away from him, moving to sit up on her knees over his stomach. Jareth inhaled and exhaled deeply.

"No. Certainly not."

She smiled again and glanced away, down to the side as she mused over something secret. Her hands were placed against his chest, and pushed into him as she moved off and stood from the bed. Jareth sat up, situated his trousers, and watched her as she turned her back on him and ran a frazzled hand through her hair.

"When you said you would teach me the theory of magic, this was definitely _not _what I was expecting," she said, glancing back at him with a laugh. Jareth grinned. The light from the window shone on her and, combined with her heated cheeks and tangled hair, rendered her positively stunning.

"And I did not expect you to be such an_ eager _pupil. I'm starting to think you're taking advantage of me."

She chuckled, delightfully, and shook her head as she turned away. Jareth finished leaning up and sat on the edge of the bed. His shirt was pulled askew, but he really could not have cared less.

"If only," Sarah said, sardonically, as she made the round to her vanity. She inspected herself and then brushed out her hair. "How long were we out for anyway? It felt like a while," she asked, not bothering to glance back at the clock behind her. Jareth stood and ran a hand through his own disheveled hair.

"About five minutes."

"What?"

Sarah turned around with shock on her face. She wasn't expecting that. It'd felt like hours.

"And good thing too," Jareth continued, overlooking her state of surprise. "You're going to be late if you keep dawdling."

Sarah set down her brush and looked at the clock. It was almost 9 am. Fuck. She was supposed to be meeting the guard in the Capitol Square.

"You're the one who showed up_ after_ breakfast. Geez. Roldan's going to yell at me, you know." She berated him, scowling as she smoothed out her dress and gave herself one last once-over in the mirror. Jareth smiled, an expression that showed fully on his face. She paced away, hurriedly, then paused. She stood awkwardly, teetered on a foot, and then groaned, irritably, before storming in the opposite direction straight into the bathroom.

Jareth laughed to himself as the door slammed shut behind her. No doubt there were certain _messes_ that needed seeing to first.

She exited the bathroom quickly and with a huff. She tried to walk past him, but he caught her arm and pulled her back into an embrace. His arms circled over her shoulders and he pressed his cheek against the side of her head.

"Do you remember what we discussed?" he asked. Sarah rolled her eyes.

"Do not eat anything. Do not walk into pointy objects. Do not fall off of cliffs. And do not go into the Labyrinth," she recited, mockingly. Jareth chuckled deep in his chest and the sound reverberated at her ear. It was warm, amused, the same feeling he exuded in his hold of her.

"Very good," he said, and released her. She stepped away but turned back around to face him.

"Do you have anything important to do today?" she asked. She was slipping on her shoes.

"Always."

"When will I see you?"

"After."

Sarah paused and narrowed her eyes on him. He was always so insufferably cryptic when it came to his daily routine. If it wasn't for the impish smile he was giving her, she may have become suspicious. As it was, such a look only irked her and she rolled her eyes away from him.

"Goodbye then," she said, curtly. She was feeling a bit testy all of the sudden, as she often had lately. This had gotten her in trouble more than a few times over the last couple of weeks. And so she tried her best to bite her tongue from saying anything more. Jareth's grin curled and he tilted his head at her as she pouted.

"Would you like me to kiss you?" he asked, teasingly. Sarah crossed her arms when he took a step towards her. "I will. If you ask." Sarah's eyes flickered down to the floor and back up again. He had that tell-tale prowl moving through his shoulders, and he watched her with eyes alight and unblinking. Picking up on the way she was scrutinizing him, he spread his arms in a welcoming gesture. "If you're nice, I'll do other things for you as well."

Sarah pressed her tongue to the back of her teeth as she weighed the challenge, then sauntered over to him with a rather suggestive sway of the hips. She stood before him and placed her hands against his chest, pushing off him as she stood to her tiptoe. Her eyes glazed over, and she stared through him as she inhaled softly through her nose and traced it, just barely, over his cheek. His lips parted in anticipation of her kiss, but she stopped. She held her mouth mere millimeters from his, and the friction of their skin nearly touching sparked a tension she was sure he felt all too acutely. She smiled then, and lowered her eyes.

"Hm...nope," she said, dismissively, as she turned away from him and left the room.

* * *

Sarah bustled down the stairs of the central hall as quick as her little feet could take her. It was just like Jareth to make her late. He probably planned to mess with her on purpose. She skipped the last couple of steps at the base of the stairwell and broke into a speed-walk as she headed for the main gate. She shook her head as she grumbled internally -completely ignoring her own contribution to the morning's distraction. No, Jareth was scoundrel enough to take the blame for the both of them.

Without breaking pace, she scuttled through the wide frame of the castle doors as they were opened for her by an absolutely massive goblin whom she'd come to know as Reginald.

"Thanks Reggie!" she called out, throwing him a wave but nothing else as she hurriedly hopped down another flight of stairs.

"Goodday, Your Majesty," he responded, bowing before closing the gates behind her. It was common practice to ignore the goblin servants roaming about the castle, but Sarah had made it her first prerogative as Queen to undo all that backwards discourtesy. She'd been learning each and every name of the castle's staff and had_ insisted_ they be properly acknowledged for their work. It'd taken some getting used to, but the goblins did seem a great deal happier and stress-free this way. Even Jareth was starting to acknowledge the benefits of her efforts.

Sarah paused and took a breath, using the moment to appreciate the view. The Goblin City appeared vast and golden under the morning sun. She stood high above her destination, eyeing the carriage, her Guard, and presumably Mariella, waiting for her in the courtyard below. Seeing how tiny they all looked had her feeling discouraged, and she exhaled roughly as her gaze fell down the daunting procession of stairs. "Well, come on feet," she told herself, and picked up the skirt of her dress as she began her descent.

Some time later…

"Ah, and there she is," Roldan said, glancing back at Sarah as she hopped down the last few steps. Sarah shot him an eye and moved to stand by Mariella. "You're late," he added, with a frown.

"I know. I know. Give me a break, will ya? I just ran down about twenty flights of stairs," she said, keeling over slightly as she caught her breath. She rested her hands on her thighs and ignored the look of disapproval Roldan was surely giving her for it.

"Sarah, are you alright? Would you like a drink?" Mariella asked. Sarah raised a hand in refusal and straightened up. Marie was watching her worriedly, like she had no idea why she would be the slightest bit tired.

"No, I'm good," she said, taking another deep breath, and pushed back her hair before it had the chance to stick to her neck. "I didn't realize you would be here, Roldan. Are you coming too?" She spied him out of her peripheral just as a widened look of aversion molded his face.

"What? Absolutely not," he said matter-of-factly, and looked away out over the city.

"Why do you say it like that?" she asked, suspicion and even a trace of offense lining her words. Roldan glanced back and looked down his nose at her.

"What is the expression? Ah, yes... T'is_ women's _work," he said, waving a smug hand through the air. Sarah narrowed her eyes on him.

"Uh-huh," she replied, unconvincingly, and turned away from him. "Marie, is everything ready?"

"Yes. Everyone is merely waiting on you...Oh, not that we've_ been_ waiting or anything," she was quick to say, a flustered smile and waving hand emphasizing her sentence. Sarah grinned. Roldan huffed. Then all were distracted by a goblin in black-plated armor.

"Your Majesty, good morning," Baldur said, holding his helmet under his arm as he bowed deeply before her. Sarah nodded her head.

"Good morning Baldur. And remember, I told you to call me Sarah. It's no different than before I was married," she said, keeping her eyes on him as he straightened from his bow.

"Of course. Lady Sarah," he replied, which she figured was as close as he would allow himself while in Roldan's company. Sarah smiled and looked over the caravan.

"So this is it? Looks like another parade." There was an open carriage before them, idling with two black friesian horses at the front. There was a smaller, covered carriage in line before it and two open carts behind. Interwoven were squadrons of her royal guard standing in strict alignment. Many carried bannered scepters with ceremonial shields prominently displaying the Goblin Crest, and all wore brightly colored armour of various hues. It all looked very official, though significantly_ less_ intimidating than her engagement procession had been. She was half-expecting a fanfare to start up at any moment. It was a bit exciting really.

"Yes. I suppose it is, in some sense," Baldur said, following her gaze over his legion of men.

"Where is Jareth?" Roldan asked her. Sarah looked back at him and shrugged.

"Um...not coming? Why? Is he supposed to be here?"

Roldan frowned and she knew the answer was yes. He sighed, shaking his head as he rolled his eyes away.

"He should be here to see you off, yes. This is your first alms-giving, after all. Why he sends me to do these things…" His voice tapered off in frustration, rankled once again by Jareth's display of, apparently, unkingly flippancy. Sarah pursed her lips and gestured back at the castle with her thumb.

"Well...he kind of did see me off, I guess. He came to wish me luck. That's why I was late," she explained, which was technically true. He had _initially_ stopped by to bid her a good day… "Though I suppose...he could have poofed me here so I didn't have to waste an extra ten minutes walking."

She was glancing down and Roldan grinned as he stared at her. Her finger was tapping her lower lip and she looked unbelievably childish. He crossed his arms and regarded her with a look of detachment.

"Indeed," he said, dismissing the topic, and then turned to address Baldur. "Ready your steeds. Now that she's finally here, we can all get on with our day." Baldur bowed and turned away while Sarah shook her head. Mariella locked her arm in Sarah's.

"Yes. Let's be on then, shall we? I've never been a part of one of these before. I'm quite excited!"

Mariella tugged and Sarah's feet followed. After a stern shout from Baldur, the goblins all mounted their creatures and the horses began to paw the ground in anticipation. Sarah glanced back and waved at Roldan.

"See ya!" she said, cheerfully. Roldan twirled his hand and gave her a gallant, if not entirely sarcastic, bow. She turned away and he stared after her as he stood straight. She was smiling at the goblin, a bright expression which caused a deep crease in her cheek. It was impossible not to admire, nor smile at in kind.

Baldur awaited them beside the step to the carriage and offered a hand to each Lady as they ascended. When they were seated, he closed the little door that locked them in and went to take his place at the head of the procession.

"Geez. This is pretty impressive, isn't it? Jareth really does know how to make a statement," she said, regarding her battalion in all its newly-polished extravagance. The craftsmanship of her carriage alone was a stark contrast to the haphazard construction of the surrounding buildings. This must have been a detail Marie picked up on as well, as her response was in perfect accordance.

"Indeed. This city is...not the grandest, surely, but just look at this upholstery! And these horses? My, I don't think I've ever seen such noble-looking beasts. I am still dazzled. Goodness, I cannot believe little-old-me is part of a royal alms procession. Mother will be so proud!" Marie clapped with glee, then nearly fell out of her seat as the carriage lurched forward. Sarah laughed and helped to ease her back.

"Hang on there," she said, continuing to laugh as Marie settled and smoothed out her dress with a huff. Sarah turned away and glossed over the city. She hadn't noticed before, but goblins had gathered at the edge of the street to watch the procession, which had her compulsively raising her hand to greet them like a well-seasoned debuton.

The goblins responded with cheer, which had her smiling awkwardly like an idiot. They sure did like her a lot more this time around. She was starting to shy away from all the vying attention when a loud series of yips distracted her.

She glanced down to spy a shaggy dog trotting alongside the carriage. And riding atop it, a familiar knight sporting a blue-velvet cap and an expertly feathered tail.

"Whoa, boy! Steady now. It's only the Queen," Sir Didymus said, reaching down to pat the dog on the side of the neck. Sarah smiled wide and leaned over the rail of the carriage.

"Ambrosius? Sir Didymus?! Goodmorning!" she said, pleasantly caught off guard as the shaggy dog looked up at her and began to bound fervently. Sir Didymus tapped the pooch on the head with his staff and settled him down.

"Really now, is that any way to behave? Ah, goodmorning My Lady! I say, you look as exquisite as ever. And you too, Lady Mariella." Marie had moved to join Sarah at the railing, perched on her knees between the two benches, as she greeted the knight.

"Why thank you, good Sir. Shall you be our personal guard this day?"

"But of course! Who better than I can protect our Queen? None I say!"

Sarah laughed as Didymus swung his staff wildly through the air in a brief moment of passion. Mariella covered her mouth with her hand as she giggled -she had definitely taken to Didymus the most.

"That is most certainly true. I'm glad you were assigned so close," Sarah said, her tone softening as she urged him to calm down. Didymus sniffed and bounced his head proudly as he swayed atop his steed.

"With Your Majesty's blessing, undoubtedly. It is the greatest honor to serve as your most intimate guardian. I shan't ever stray from your side. I will conquer any foe! Anywhere!-"

"-Any place, any time. Yes I know," Sarah finished, reaching out with a hand this time to gentle him. Didymus gruffed and inhaled deeply. "I have total faith in your abilities."

Sarah was glad, ecstatic actually, the moment she realized she really could restation all of her friends. Immediately, she'd assigned Sir Didymus to her Queen's Guard, and Hoggle and Ludo together to serve as grounds keepers to the royal gardens. This meant she'd get to see the lot of them whenever she wished, and had taken much joy in introducing them to Mariella. The five of them got along well, and it was a change in the tone of her daily routine that went unparalleled.

"You are too kind, Your Majesty," Sir Didymus said, removing his cap as he bowed to her. Sarah grinned. His display of chivalric manner was the only one she could stand, the only one she viewed as being truly genuine. She didn't mind that he called her Majesty. From him it felt endearing.

Sarah sat back in her seat and Mariella reflected her on the opposite side.

"Do you know where we're going first, Sir Didymus?"

"Not far. Today we shall explore the market district. T'is close to the castle."

"Oh...Shouldn't we be going somewhere more impoverished?"

"Ah, indeed we are. Where do you think the beggars and the thieves go for their scraps? The Markets of course! Not to mention this sector borders Wallen. You shan't find any lack of panhandlers there."

"Wallen...That's close to the junkyard, isn't it?" Sarah asked. She was trying to remember more of the city's layout from Roldan's lessons, but it wasn't quite coming back to her. Wallen was a slum, that much she knew.

"Why yes. It is the most impoverished district within the city. We trampled it a bit the last time we stormed the castle," he explained, which had Marie's brow rising.

"Stormed the castle? Sarah you never told me this. I thought you merely ran the Labyrinth? I didn't think you'd actually declared war with His Majesty." -And to that Sarah laughed. She could not, and did not even try, to stop herself. Marie was staring at her with quite the look of befuddlement. As memories of the four of them _storming the castle_ came back to her, Sarah only laughed harder. "Sarah?"

"I'm sorry Marie. Really. ...no it wasn't like that. I definitely did not _declare war_ on him," and she waved at the crowd once more as her giggling subsided. "He sent a mock squadron of goblins to mess with me, which we successfully evaded. There was a lot of collateral damage though...apparently he didn't care about that," she explained, her thoughts briefly wandering to the poor goblins whose houses had been destroyed during all that chaos...Jareth had spared the time to fix them, right?

"Ah...I see….a very strange game he played with you, even for a King," Mariella said, lowering her gaze to her lap as she contemplated. Sarah's grin curled.

"Yes, well...Jareth is very strange, even for a King."

After a few minutes, the carriage rolled to a halt at the edge of a wide street. Lined on either side were stalls advertising many forms of wares native to both the Under and Aboveground. She heard Baldur shout from the front of the line and immediately rows of soldiers dispersed to form a perimeter.

"Seems we're here," Marie said, peering around curiously as Baldur dismounted his beast and walked towards them. Once he arrived, Sir Didymus bowed his head in deference and nudged Ambrosius to back up a few paces.

"Welcome to the Goblin Markets, Your Majesty," Baldur said, opening the door for them and offering a hand first to Marie, then Sarah, as they dismounted. Sarah's eyes, glancing about the city, were full of wonder; though she still managed to spare Ambrosius a tender ruffle atop his head. Mariella joined her at her side, suddenly carrying a small wooden chest.

"What's this?" Sarah asked. Mariella flicked open the latch on the box and opened it slightly, revealing a hint of gold coins within.

"Your charity. Straight from the royal coeffers," she said, and snuck her hand inside to pull out a fistful of coins that she then dropped into Sarah's. "I am advised not to let you dispense of it too quickly," she added. Sarah nodded but said nothing right away, distracted by the movements of goblins unloading the carts behind her. She turned to face them.

"What are they doing?" she asked. Mariella peered around to watch with her as crates of fresh produce were unloaded one by one.

"That is the rest of our alms. Normally, you would take charge of the coin and your Ladies would distribute food and cloth. However, as you only have me, the goblins shall see to all of that."

"Ah," Sarah replied, turning back towards the market. They were at the very edge. Most of the shops here were closed or broken down. That made her sad, even knowing full well what to expect. Goblins were gathering around them, mostly quiet yet jittering, and were kept in a wide circle by the discretion of her guards. "So this is where we're starting then?"

"Yes. This is what is known as the Lower Market," Baldur informed, directing soldiers about their tasks with the simple flick of his wrist. Sarah's frown deepened. There was only one shop that she could see that wasn't boarded up, and the fruit it was selling was already rotten and attracting flies. There was no one in the street, no one but those gathering around her. Geez...This wasn't a market at all.

"I see…" Sarah mumbled, gripping the coins she held a little tighter as she realized this wasn't going to be as fun a trip as she'd thought. She caught the eyes of a goblin staring at her with an agonizing level of patience, and she bit her cheek to stop her frown from worsening. It looked terrified and starving. "Well, let's get to it then."

* * *

Jareth stood with his arms crossed as he stared out over the Labyrinth. It was warm and quiet, save a gentle lull of breeze that swept up the ends of his hair and cape. It billowed, tossing up puffs of sand that then drifted away into oblivion.

The sun was out, nary a cloud in sight as it's rays beat down on the tanned, weathered stone of his kingdom. He was standing at the edge of his city. Under a tree that held more significance to him than it should have.

He marked a line at the edge of the sand with his boot and sighed as he knelt down to the ground. The desert was spreading farther. Every day. He was hesitant to admit the process had quickened. That he was undoing centuries of effort purely out of fear and pride.

He clawed his fingers into the ground, pushing to the second knuckle, and closed his eyes as he focused. A tremor passed through him and into the ground, radiating ever outward, urging the sands to retreat and rebuild.

Liana stared at him wordlessly. Her arrival was silent, though it wasn't but a moment or two before Jareth peered over at her with a glare.

"What do you want?" he asked, his tone terse but not with anger. Liana crossed her arms and gazed out over the Labyrinth.

"Nothing at the moment," she replied. Jareth looked away from her and back at the ground. A shudder coursed through his arms, causing him to focus more intently.

"Well, if you haven't noticed, I'm a bit busy." His tone was dismissive, his posture tense as he crouched on the ground. Liana peered down her nose at him. He really was trying.

"I know. I've come to help."

Jareth paused and glanced at her as she stepped towards him. She too knelt down, fanning out the skirt of her dress, as she mirrored his posture in the dirt. She splayed her hands wide, the tips of her fingers turning into roots, just before she sank them deep into the earth.

He saw her eyes were closed. Her expression was just as serious as his.

"I'm surprised," he said, not ready to trust her intentions, and caught her reflexive smile.

"I know. It's been a while."

He turned away from her wordlessly and closed his eyes as he reignited the flow of magic between himself and the ground. The vibrations increased in frequency with Liana at his side. At one point the difference in their effort might have stung his pride, but not now. Now it was all he could do not to ask for her help.

Grains of sand hovered in the air around their hands, but only a few felt compelled to move away.

"The desert is spreading," Liana said. Jareth's jaw tensed.

"Obviously."

"Faster than before."

"Your point?"

"None. A simple observation."

They were each quiet for a few minutes, focusing their strength on the task at hand. Before Sarah, the two of them spent the majority of their time engaged in such activities. Working together to rescind the desert had been the deal they'd struck. Ever since the return of her master however, tensions had been high and Jareth found himself, more often than not, labouring on his own.

Over the course of his reign, Jareth, through his own power, had been able to slow the spread of the desert to just a few inches per year. In the less than three months since Sarah's return, it had already exceeded that by six feet.

"Where is Sarah?" Liana asked. Jareth inhaled deeply, fighting off annoyance at her continued interruptions.

"Passing out alms," he said, with a hint of sarcasm. Liana raised a shrewd brow but it went unnoticed.

"I'm surprised you're confident enough to leave her unattended like that," she said. A slight sneer tugged at the corner of Jareth's mouth.

"She is not unattended."

"Still...I would have expected you to be more cautious."

Jareth spied on her from his peripheral. There was inflection in her voice, something provoking that betrayed her apathetic stare.

"Hovering over her will do none of us good," he said. Liana tilted her head, her way of shrugging he presumed. "Besides...there have not been any further indiscretions since we last met."

"Indeed not."

Her tone was clipped. Baited. The ground churned a bit as her roots bore deeper and Jareth's eyes lowered. She was trying to unnerve him.

"You sound unconvinced. Is there a reason you're worried for her safety?"

Liana shot him an eye, but nothing more.

"No. She is...very well guarded. I suppose it is simply my desire to_ hover_." She paused and brought her attention back to the ground. She had more to say. He could sense it. "With that said...I don't like the idea of her being so far away from the both of us."

Now that was surprising. Jareth's brow lifted as he regarded her.

"She's been in the city before. She handled herself well-enough then."

"True." She spoke plainly but for some reason it was making Jareth nervous. They'd never had a conversation regarding Sarah that was both honest _and_ calm. He continued to stare at her, knowing there was still more hanging on the end of her tongue. "...I sense you've begun instructing her on magic."

"And?"

"And I'm surprised. I did not anticipate such a concession from you." A faint smile graced her lips. It had Jareth scowling.

"Concession? It's for her own protection. At this point…" His voice tapered off with distaste. Yes, he and Sarah were having fun but the fact of the matter was he felt cornered into what was, in actuality, a very undesirable situation. It meant he was losing. It meant he had given up. He tried to console himself with the reminder that he'd given up a long time ago.

"Yes...and you're not at all concerned she may inadvertently awaken herself with this newfound knowledge?" Liana asked. Jareth's brow twitched, in spite of himself.

"Not particularly," he said, with distraction, as he forced his focus on the grains of sand hovering in the air. "Though, as you've said, that becomes a bit of a moot point if it was always an inevitability…"

There was a pause, a moment where Liana inspected, literally, the level of integrity in those words. When she was finished, she turned away and gazed out over the scenery.

"I see...are you going to tell her? When you deem her prepared?" she asked. Jareth was scowling. She was making it damn impossible to focus.

"I don't think she will ever be prepared."

"No...she will not." There was another silence, one that weighted the space between them. He could sense she was still not done talking and merely waited for the pin-prickling sound of her voice to pick back up again. "I'm sensing a nuclear level conduit adorning her...May I ask what manner of defenses you have fortified her with this time?"

Jareth smiled. Her tone was too candid. Was she trying to handle him right now?

"Everything," he said, then turned to shoot her a glare. "She shan't fall victim to any means of physical, spiritual, or mental attack. Curses. Dark objects. Sensory magic. Etcetera."

"What of botanicals?"

Jareth's smile widened.

"Feeling insecure are we?" He quirked a brow at her and only huffed when her response was naught. "Whatever plants that can be warded against have been. You know as well as I that not everything found in nature falls victim to my whim," he went on, shrugging discursively. "There's nothing growing within the city limits that can harm her. I've made sure of that. Actually, I'm fully confident there is no longer any manner of magic that can influence her."

"Save from yourself?" she countered, and a haughty smirk flashed across his face.

"I am no threat to her."

"Indeed…" Liana's voice trailed off and Jareth was content to let the conversation die there. Liana however, was feeling a trace bit of apprehension. True, Jareth's ward may be effective against all _external_ magics...but the Labyrinth was already inside of her. That could complicate things. She wasn't sure whether or not to warn him about such distinctions...he might try to reinforce his ward against her, and she was barred far enough away from Sarah already. "You've done well," she said.

Jareth's ears actually twitched with surprise, and he turned to look at her with such.

"What was that?"

"Your conduit is exceptional. I'm impressed." She met his gaze and ignored the high level of scrutiny she saw in him. He stared at her for a moment, as if testing her words, then glared away dismissively.

"Don't coddle me, It's unsettling."

"Heh. Forgive the compliment," she said, holding back a laugh at such a display of petulance. Her eyes lowered to the ground, to the earth that churned beneath her fingers, and smiled. "It's been a long time since we've spoken like this, hasn't it?"

"Your point?"

There was little effort in concealing the aggravation in Jareth's voice. It was strained, spoken through a tensed jaw as he struggled to carry out his work.

"It's nice, is it not?" she spoke again, changing the subject as a bit of cheer rose in her voice. Jareth looked over to her skeptically. "Us. On the same team again."

"Is that what this is?" he asked, sardonically. Liana leaned up and withdrew her hands. When she looked at him there was a ghost of a smile on her lips.

"Yes." Jareth's eyes narrowed, his suspicion of her readily apparent. Liana's smile curled a little more and she glanced away slowly. "You forget, _My Liege_, you once asked me to search your heart. And I did. I have always known when you are lying to me. You do truly mean to protect her this time. I am pleased." Her words did little to assuage him, though her posture was totally relaxed. Did that mean she now trusted him? That she believed in his vow to abandon her? He didn't know how he felt about that. How he felt about the knowledge she apparently had over the secrets he kept barred from even himself.

"Should I feel grateful?" he asked, scoffing. "If you know me so well, it is a wonder that Sarah managed to beat the Labyrinth at all." He spoke flippantly, even turning himself away from her to resume his labours. There was a definite pause before she responded, a silence weighed heavy.

"_A wonder_. ...Yes."

Jareth felt a tick in his jaw, causing him to hesitate once again. There was too much provocation in those words. He would not play into it by looking over at her. His thoughts however, did all the manipulation for her.

"Are you saying you let her win?"

Again it was silent, the answer to his question carried as a whisper on the breeze.

"Was it really either of our place to see her fail?" she asked. Jareth felt his teeth grinding and he glared over at her.

"You wanted her to become your master? Why?" His voice was raised by only a hint of anger, something which grew when her answer was silence. "It was by your own proclamation that you could not give yourself. What other lies have you deceived me with?" She heard offense in his voice, however restrained -not entirely undeserved, she admitted. Liana rolled her head and inhaled deeply. Apparently she was the only one still focusing on exuding magic.

"Deceive you? My Jareth, t'was no such thing. I accepted Sarah as my master_ because_ of you. Was it not your desire that she should win?" She was playing with him, the physical flicker of flame that danced in her eyes just then confirmation enough. "And I did not lie. Sarah did_ win_ me. I simply made myself a rather flaccid opponent." Jareth fought back a scowl.

"You knew that I was planning to kill her."

"I also knew that you would not."

"Because you know my heart? You really are determined to never see me as your master, aren't you."

"Am I?"

Jareth shook his head. There was always an angle with her, always a secret that was perfectly designed to piss him off. The arrogance in her tone was something far too familiar to him.

"What then, you would subject yourself to self-destruction out of sport? To_ irk _me?"

Liana tilted her head towards him and gave him an eye.

"I have existed for far longer than even you can comprehend, little king. Please, do not insult me by thinking I am anywhere near destruction. Whether Nature be barren or bountiful, I am still me. And I shall continue to exist long after this life and this place sinks into the blackest of oblivions." She spoke plainly, but it only had Jareth's brow furrowing.

"Is that meant to reassure me?"

"No...it's simply the truth." She closed her eyes and turned away from him with her head held high, a display of highhandedness that did not go unnoticed. "I would however, like to avoid such a fate. You've proven to be better company to me than many before you. You are certainly more entertaining, and the things Sarah has me feeling are always...colorful, if nothing else." She pursed her lips to stifle a grin, amused at the way he found himself lost for words. He was still glaring at her. She could feel it. But the look wasn't quite as dangerous as it used to be. In reward, she glanced back to him and let her smile show fully. "So come. Stop your pouting. We have work to do."

* * *

Sarah ran the back of a hand across her forehead as she closed the lid to Mariella's seemingly bottomless treasure chest. It'd been a few hours, and while all they did was casually stroll through the streets of downtown Goblin City, the heat of the afternoon sun was making her feel a little listless.

"Where to next, My Lady?" Didymus asked, thrusting his staff to the ground as he surveyed, with hand of hip, the surrounding suburb.

Weirdly enough, Sarah was given total control over their itinerary. She had expected Baldur to lead her down a predetermined route -at Jareth's discretion no doubt- and was thus surprised when instead they all turned to her and asked, from the very beginning, where _she_ wanted to go. She of course had no idea where the hell they even were, so had just been picking streets at random. Unwittingly, she'd led them to the edge of the district, and was now standing at the border to Wallen. She could see the wall of the Labyrinth looming above, casting a formidable shadow across the town. Perhaps her motivation to come to this place, after seeing the squalor of those living outside the market, had been less than subconscious.

"Um...that way, I suppose?" she half-asked, pointing down an alley that led straight away from them. The guards, Didymus and Baldur included, all turned to follow the direction of her finger.

"That way leads into Wallen, Your Grace," Baldur said.

"So?"

"You are meant to bless the Market District this day. Wallen is reserved for a later date."

Sarah pursed her lips as she stared past them into the alley. It was darker there, the shade cast by the Labyrinth rendering it a bit symbolic. She spied the eyes of a child, then, peeking out from behind a dented trash can and watching her anxiously. It was afraid to approach, perhaps afraid that it was not its turn. Sarah's expression hardened into a frown. The poor thing was shaking. It had the tiniest fingers and the saddest, most quibbling eyes.

"We're already here. Does it really matter?" she countered, her tone suddenly harder as she looked over to Baldur. Baldur blinked, not expecting her sudden shift in demeanor.

"Um...not really, I suppose," he said, uncertainly. Sarah turned away and moved to grab a few apples from the cart behind her.

"Is there any mandate saying I can't leave the Market District?" she asked.

"Not _explicitly_, no…"

"Then it's settled. Come on." She tossed an apple to Marie and walked past her guard into the alley. The child panicked and ducked behind the recepticle, causing Sarah to slow and crouch down to appease it. "Hey there, it's okay," she said, softly. "You can come out now. I have something for you." She smiled when the little goblin peered out from its hiding spot, but then she scowled when the sound of her guards moving around her frightened it off again. She frowned at them and shooed them away. "Don't worry about them. They won't bother you. Do you want something to eat?"

She wasn't sure how she knew it was a child, but she did. Its eyes were too large and it had tattered brown hair that framed its face all the way to its chin. It stepped around from behind the can again, revealing an ill-fitted pair of shoes that split to reveal a set of muddied toes which curled nervously. Its fingers were knobby, with nails untrimmed and broken. It kept its hands close to its chest and took tentative steps towards her. Sarah smiled again, waiting patiently for it to warm up to her.

She extended a hand and held out an apple. It reached her, but stopped, looked her in the eye for a split second, and then abruptly snatched the apple from her hands before darting away between two buildings.

Sarah sat there, crouched in the gravel, and frowned. She wasn't sure she was cut out for this. Her heart bled too readily for these creatures. She'd nearly offered to adopt that poor thing just now. If only it hadn't run. She only hoped it had parents to run to. Sadly, this was not the first time this had happened to her today.

She stood and brushed the dirt from her dress.

"Alright. Let's find some others."

They'd spent a great deal of time wandering the Wallen Slums, though Sarah had yet to establish a clear recollection of any one structure from her previous visit three years prior. The wall of the Labyrinth was now eclipsing the sky as they stood under it. It was odd, she didn't remember it being that tall before. With a deep breath, she put her hands on her hips and looked to the ground. She was feeling pretty fatigued and began to search for a place to sit; then glanced back at her expectant caravan.

"Shall we take a break?" she suggested. The paupers were gone. The street was quiet and empty, save them, under the Labyrinth's watchful gaze. Baldur stepped forward and bowed his head.

"Of course, My Lady," he said, and gestured for a soldier to bring forth_ her designated_ pitcher and glass of water. She accepted and chugged it down in just a few gulps. Mariella stood next to her and received her own drink, though with a bit more tact.

"How much longer do we have to do this?" Sarah asked. Sir Didymus stood to their side, brushing the dust from Ambrosius's fur.

"As long as you'd like. We can turn around now, if you wish. Or you may retire for the day."

"If I wish?"

"Normally, you would also walk the journey back to the castle. But I understand if you're feeling a bit tired. It turned out to be rather hot today," Mariella answered. Sarah nodded, taking another long sip.

"Or I'm just out of shape," she spoke into her cup. She kicked at a pebble and brought a hand to her stomach absently.

"Are you alright?"

Sarah peered over at Marie.

"Huh?" Mariella frowned as her eyes flickered down to the hand Sarah held over her stomach. Sarah flinched and lowered it back to her side. "Yes. I'm just tired," she added, assuringly. Mariella did not look convinced.

"You've been tired quite a lot lately, and you've been a little pale...are you sure you're feeling well?" she asked. Sarah rolled her eyes.

"I've been tired because Jareth is teaching me to combat dreamweaving, remember?"

"Yes…but you haven't been eating very well either."

Sarah shot her gaze back to her.

"What are you talking about? I've been eating just fine," she retorted, sharply. Mariella pursed her lips, warring over whether or not to push the issue. She'd noted Sarah had been picking at her plate more and more often recently. Perhaps it was nothing. Maybe she was just being overbearing. In the end, she decided to let the matter go.

"Very well then," she said. Sarah turned her gaze forcibly at the Labyrinth, not wanting to admit Marie might have been right. The nymph had been scrutinizing her habits all week, which had left her with a rather short string of patience on the matter. So what if she wasn't eating quite as much as she used to? Given the way Roldan so often shamed her for her appetite, she didn't consider that to be a bad thing.

"We ended up pretty close to the Labyrinth, didn't we?" she asked, changing the subject before it rankled her further. Mariella followed Sarah's gaze and stared up at the massive wall of the Labyrinth.

"So it seems...Looks a bit imposing up close, doesn't it?"

"Not really…" Sarah mumbled. Her head tilt to one side as she regarded it, wondering, with a peculiar awareness, if she was in fact guiding them to this spot all along -now that was a strange thought to have. Her eyes rose higher and spied the withered remains of vines creeping over the top of it. "Those vines…"

"Hm?"

Sarah turned to face Marie once more, though she took a step away from her.

"Hey, Marie, did I ever tell you about the last time I came out into the city?"

Mariella followed after her.

"Yes. You escorted a troupe of goblins to their houses and dined with them."

"Yeah...Did I tell you about the weird story though?"

They were moving closer towards the wall, Marie watching as Sarah's head reclined farther back as she stared up at it.

"I...can't say if I recall."

"They said the Labyrinth has a spirit...like a soul or something. They said when it heals itself those vines appear," she explained, raising an arm to point up at the sprawling vines. Mariella peered up as well, though she didn't regard them with the same level of interest.

"Oh...interesting."

"Isn't it? I asked Jareth about it once but...I don't know, the conversation got really confusing after that." Sarah looked down, to Sir Didymus, who was only a few feet away. "Sir Didymus, you wouldn't happen to have any insights into the Spirit of the Labyrinth?" she asked. Didymus patted Ambrosius on the flank before joining them at Sarah's side. The guards were already moving around her, always keeping a perfect circle of protection.

"Spirit of the Labyrinth? Hm...I have heard tales of this, yes, though I cannot say what is fact or fiction."

"I'd like to hear it all, if you don't mind."

"But of course! Yes, they say the Labyrinth has a mind of its own. A powerful force which protects all that dwell within, and in turn punishes those that would do it harm." She waited for him to continue, but he didn't.

"I see...anything more than that?"

"Oh! Yes. It, and the castle, are the oldest remaining structures still in existence. Though...no one knows which came first. I've never heard of these vines, though that does not mean it cannot be true. There are many things of suspicious sentience within the Labyrinth," he explained. Ambrosius had moved towards Mariella, who knelt down to pet him as Didymus spoke. Sarah gazed up once more, finding herself a bit lost amidst all the tesselating stones.

"Do you know who built it? And why?"

"T'was built before such things were documented, I'm afraid. Some believe it was built by King Orpus. Others say it existed long before."

"You know about Orpus?" Sarah asked, absently, as she stepped a little further towards it. Baldur eyed her curiously.

"Of course. I am a knight."

"Ah."

"Perhaps, if it protects, it was built in defense of the castle," Mariella suggested. Ambrosius was licking her hand, which had her shooing him away with feigned distaste. His tail wagged happily, which was enough to earn back her affections. Sarah spied on a bench pressed against the wall. For some reason, that seemed more comfortable than the padded seat of the carriage.

"Given how Jareth can bounce around it carefree...seems kind of obsolete now, don't you think?" Sarah asked, glancing back over her shoulder to Marie.

"Yes, well...back then our abilities were not so refined, remember? The fae were not as evolved, as powerful as His Majesty is. I imagine this maze provided a very adequate defense back then. And besides, if it protects the castle, then surely it also protects its King. Perhaps he has a certain...affinity with it. That, or maybe it's just centuries of familiarity that allows him to trek it with such ease." Sarah's brow furrowed as she listened. Something was distracting her. She felt very absent-minded all of the sudden. She was still taking steps. What was she walking towards again?

"Hm…"

"My Lady!"

Sarah blinked and looked down. Baldur was standing in front of her, between her and the wall. He looked upset. She frowned and shook her head clear of the daze.

"Huh? What?"

"Majesty, forgive me, but I must urge you to step back," he said, and gestured towards her with his hands. "We are under strict orders not to allow you to enter the Labyrinth."

Sarah blinked, staring at him with disconcertion.

"What? I know that," she said, shaking her head as the million-and-one promises she'd made to Jareth on the matter replayed quickly through her mind. "Relax, Baldur. I wasn't going to go in…There's not even a gateway," she argued, gesturing from left to right down the span of the wall. "I was just going to sit on this bench," she continued, ignoring his urgency by turning and plopping herself down on the bench without preamble. Baldur stared at her worriedly.

"Twould be better to rest in the carriage, My Lady," he said. Sarah shook her head.

"Jesus, it's just a bench. And I'm already here," she said, with minor annoyance. She crossed her legs and patted the seat next to her. "You can come and join me, if you want."

"Why, don't mind if I do, My Lady," Didymus responded, with complete ignorance, and hopped up to sit beside her. Sarah grinned and looked to Baldur challengingly.

"See Captain? It's only a bench," she said, teasingly.

"And a sturdy one at that," Didymus added, tapping his staff against the stone as Sarah laughed. Mariella was still playing with the dog, not entirely paying attention. Baldur grumbled, unsure of what to do. The King was very clear not to let her enter the Labyrinth. But...he never explicitly stated she could not be _near_ the Labyrinth... She was merely resting. Perhaps it was fine. He gave in to loiter with her against the wall.

Sir Didymus eased back and swung his legs to and fro.

"I don't see what all the fuss is about anyway. It's only the Labyrinth," he said. Sarah snickered. At least one person was on her wavelength. Baldur stood close to her with an intent look on his face, and for a moment she felt bad for teasing him. He was only doing his job after all. Maybe Jareth had threatened him with something scary.

She brought her attention to Marie, who was now rising from her crouch and waving Ambrosius away.

"Away with you, incessant thing," she said, amusedly, and took a few steps towards them. Sarah grinned, taking a deep breath as a wave of ease washed over her. She wasn't sure why, but she felt a whole lot better all of the sudden. Her impatience was gone, as was her fatigue, and the faint discomfort in her stomach. She leaned back and pressed her head against the wall. It felt nice in the shade.

"See Baldur? There's nothing to freak out over. It's just a wall...nothing wrong with touching a wall…" Her head turned and her eyes trailed the lines of the mortar with intrigue as a hand lifted to trace a path in its wake. It felt...soft somehow. Warm. Like home. What?

Sarah felt a very strange sense of awareness hit her just as her eyes turned and locked with Mariella's. That moment felt longer than it should have. It felt...

Marie flinched back and gasped. She blinked but the image remained. She was gone. All three of them were gone.

* * *

Sarah blinked and stumbled back, oblivious to the fact that she was now standing. There was a wall in front of her. The wall of the Labyrinth. Her heart pounded in her chest and she looked all around. What the fuck was that? Did she- was she just transported into the Labyrinth?

"My Lady, are thoust harmed?"

Sarah looked down with a fevered expression as a hand pressed to her chest. Didymus was there, beside her. The concern she saw on his face helped quell her panic.

"Majesty, you need to breathe."

She glanced to the left and saw Baldur. Goodness, he was there, too. Thank God. She took another step back and did as he said by taking a long, deep breath and composed herself.

"I'm fine. I'm fine," she said, flustered, and continued to look about their surroundings. "What the hell just happened?"

"I don't know. But we are now within the Labyrinth," Baldur said, with a sense of dread it seemed. Sarah gulped and straightened up.

"Okay...so how do we get out?" she asked, remaining cool.

"Sarah?! Sarah?!"

The sound of Marie's voice screaming on the other side of the wall brought her relief. Sarah ran forward and pressed her hands against the wall.

"Marie? I'm here Marie!" she shouted back. She could hear the goblins clamoring, taking some kind of quick action on the other side of the wall.

"Sarah?! Oh thank goodness! I have no idea what happened, but the goblins are going to get you out. Just stay right there!" she said. Sarah nodded, taking a step back.

"Alright. We'll be here."

She moved to join Baldur and Sir Didymus, whose attentions were now trained on defending her.

"I don't understand what just happened," she said, more or less to herself.

"Whatever it is, we shall protect you. My men will scale the wall and pull you to safety. I assure you, My Lady," Baldur said, sternly. Sarah peered down to him with a smile.

"Undoubtedly, good Sir."

The sound of grappling hooks clawing the ridge of the wall drew her attention, which was then followed by the sounds of goblins furiously scurrying up it. As Sarah waited, she acknowledged her panic was not so much from a feeling of danger, but by Jareth's reaction should he learn she had been within the Labyrinth at all. At least it would be over soon. Maybe he wouldn't even have to know…

She turned around and looked over the path. It diverged in several ways, drawing the eye over hill and dale as the Labyrinth stretched ever-onward. Its immense presence bewitched her, snared her in a way that left her confused. What was this feeling? There were no words for it. She wanted to take a step further…

"Do not worry Sarah, it will be over soon."

She glanced down to find Didymus tugging at the skirt of her dress. She smiled at him reassuringly.

A moment went by, maybe even two, causing her to glance back over her shoulder when she realized it had gone suspiciously quiet. The goblins...Marie...Why was it so quiet all of the sudden?

Her eyes caught on Baldur, whose hardened expression was meant to steady her as he then very calmly said, "Don't panic Sarah...but we're not in the Goblin City anymore."

* * *

Jareth inhaled deeply as he tried his best to meditate his tension away. The two of them had been quiet for a long while now, thank the gods -though while Liana was pleasantly reposed, Jareth was deeply disconcerted. He knew Liana was scheming, but he'd honestly thought he'd tricked her back then. That Sarah really had won her heart. Was Liana bluffing? Was she trying to gain the upper hand by claiming to have been an even more devious puppet master? And to what end? Why in the world would she_ let _herself be taken by Sarah?

He forced these thoughts away for the time being. Liana was right; they had a job to do. And the fact was that Jareth had been slacking over the last few weeks. It was too easy to idle the days away with Sarah. Too easy to stop caring whether the land became barren or bountiful.

He wasn't sure how much time had passed when Liana suddenly stopped what she was doing. She pulled back abruptly, the roots of her fingers snapping in the dirt as she did so. Jareth looked over at her. There was worry on her face.

"What?"

Liana blinked and her head twitched. Jareth's brow furrowed. That couldn't be good.

"Where...did you say Sarah was again?" she asked. And now Jareth leaned up from the ground as well.

"She's in the market sector. Close to the castle." -At least he hoped. None of his wards had gone off, and he'd reinforced them multiple times over since returning from the north. The look on Liana's face however brought him uncertainty.

"Not anymore," she said, and stood to her feet. Jareth followed, watching her intently as her wide eyes darted as if privy to something he could not see. "You're sure she cannot enter the Labyrinth?"

"I never said that. She does however know not to…"

"But that doesn't mean she won't."

"What are you getting at? Will she awaken simply by entering?"

"No...she won't. But that's not the point." Her head turned towards the castle, and her look of concern became sheer panic as her eyes veered sharply back to his. "You need to go to her Jareth. Now."

* * *

Mariella staggered back as worried fingers tapped furiously over her lips. _Oh dear. Oh dear. What in the world has happened?_ She watched in fright as the goblins climbed the wall, hoping, praying, pleading, that in only another moment they would return with Sarah in tow. She contended whether or not to send for His Majesty. She had no knowledge of the Labyrinth. She wasn't sure how urgent a matter this was. Sarah was not afraid, but surely there was a reason Jareth was so intensely defensive against it? The goblins rounded the top of the wall. However, the breath Marie took in preparation of a sigh instead choked her when the soldier no sooner turned to her and said, "She's gone."

"W-What? What do you mean, she's gone? I just spoke to her!" Mariella shrieked, running up to the wall once more in a panic. "Sarah?! Sarah?! Can you hear me?!"

"Quick lads! Fan out and find the Queen! Didymus and the Captain are with her, but we must move with haste!"

The goblins climbed more urgently then, those still on the ground mounting their steeds and galloping off to the nearest gate. Mariella paced back with a widened, horrified expression.

"Gods...Oh gods….we need to find His Majesty. Someone send word for The King!"

Before the words could finish leaving her lips, a harsh gust of wind sent her nearly toppling over. She took a step back and braced herself against it, left utterly bemused by the angry voice that then cut through the air.

"Where is she?!"

Mariella whipped her head around as Jareth shoved past her. He looked absolutely livid. Like an animal. His eyes were seared to the wall, and she feared his stare alone held the power to crumble it.

"I-I don't know, Your Majesty," she said. Jareth glared back at her with a fury that had Mariella actually trembling. She hunched her shoulders and stepped away from him.

"What do you mean, you_ don't know_?" he asked, his tone cutting through her as he took an aggressive step in her direction. One of the soldiers rushed to stand between them and dropped to his knees.

"Your Majesty, please. It was not the lady's fault. We were resting and the Labyrinth took her."

"Took her? What do you mean it_ took_ her?"

There was an ire in Jareth's words as sharp as a razor's edge, something that had every single soldier falling into pitiful silence. The markings around his eyes turned black, matching his armor and his cape that now seemed to billow with a demonic aura.

"We don't know. One moment she was here, the next she was not."

"There was no gate, Your Majesty. I don't understand what's happened. We spoke to her through the wall. She and the knights were together on the other side but- but by the time they came to rescue her, they were no longer there."

"Knights?"

"Yes. Sir Didymus and Captain Baldur. Thank the gods she is not alone."

"As if that matters," Jareth hissed, turning away from her and slowly crouching as he said, "Pray she is uninjured, or I will have _all _of your heads."

In a flash too grand for Mariella to fully comprehend, she watched as Jareth ducked down, immersing himself in a churning cocoon, as his cape paled and frayed around him. She felt another powerful gust of wind and magic push her back as he leapt into the air and, as the tatters of fabric receded, was left in awe by the sight of a beautiful golden owl soaring in its wake.

She brought her hand to her chest as her breath hitched, her eyes unblinking, as she watched powerful wings splay and thrust towards the sun. He vanished over the ridge of the wall, leaving all those who saw struck pitifully dumb. _What a magnificent sight_, Mariella thought. _Just magnificent..._

* * *

Sarah's eyes narrowed as she digested Baldur's words, and instinctively looked up at the wall that was no longer there. Her eyes widened and her back foot rooted in place. There was now an archway in front of her, framing a path along with the now very distant figure of the castle beyond it.

Fuck.

"Did we just get teleported again?" she asked and peered all around. They were standing in a courtyard, somewhere very much immersed within the maze.

Sir Didymus turned around and inhaled sharply.

"Indeed, Fair Maid. Fear not. I am by your side."

"I'm not afraid, Didymus, just confused…" she mumbled, distracted by the scenery. She took a few steps away as she tried to rationalize the situation. "What the hell is going on?"

"I cannot say, My Lady. It seems the Labyrinth has swallowed us," Baldur replied, standing close to her side as he withdrew his sword. Sarah glanced down to him with a frown.

"What the hell does that mean?"

"It means we must now make way and escape it. Good thing we've done that once before!" Both Sarah and Baldur turned back to Didymus and his, quite frankly, unwarranted amount of valiant cheer. Sarah cracked a grin in spite of it. Seems like they were about to have another adventure.

There was no way Jareth wasn't going to find out about this…

Double fuck.

"Heh...yeah…" Sarah mumbled, nervously, and scratched the back of her head as she looked back at the castle. It didn't seem that far... "Do either of you know the way?"

"I will once I orient our location," Baldur said, assuredly. Didymus wove his sceptre through the air in retort.

"Nonsense! Do you not hear the call to adventure?! A knight leads by his sense of intuition! This way I say!" he proclaimed, prancing between Baldur and Sarah as he headed blindly down a path. "I promise, Fair Maid, I will have you back in no-time."

Sarah shot a glance at Baldur, who shot her one right back. She could tell he wanted to interject, but it seemed the decision was left to her. She shrugged, apologizing with her eyes, as she turned away and followed after her squirrely, definitely over-confident, knight.

* * *

Jareth soared high in the sky as he surveyed the many complexities of the Labyrinth below. This was unbelievable. The one thing he'd told them all not to do. Where the fuck even was she? As he scoured, he realized she could be anywhere, anywhere within this massive infernal maze which spanned for thousands of miles. But that shouldn't have mattered. Why couldn't he find her? Something was barring him, stopping him from going to her. Fuck.

He felt a flutter land on his wing and glanced back at it.

"_What in the world are you doing? Why have you not gone to her?!"_

The butterfly clinging to his feathers spoke telepathically. He glared away and would have growled if he could.

"_That's rich. What kind of game are you trying to pull here, Liana?"_

The butterfly flapped its wings and crawled along his back.

"_Game? What game? I told you to go to her immediately. Why are you hesitating?"_

Jareth's head twisted and he flapped his wings harder.

"_Hesitating? You must know I cannot find her. Do you think this is amusing?"_

"_What do you mean, you can't find her? What of your wards?"_

"_Are you serious?" _Jareth asked, beside himself. _"The Labyrinth is cloaking her from me, and you are the Labyrinth."_

"_Jareth, don't be daft,"_ Liana said, pacing back and forth along his back._ "I am not the Labyrinth. The Labyrinth is me, and I am more than the sum of my parts."_

"_What the fuck are you saying?"_

"_The Labyrinth is like a limb. You've blinded me from her, so it's acting on little more than reflex. Embracing her on instinct. I can feel her, but because of your stupid charm I cannot discern her location. And because I do not know where she is, I cannot consciously negate that reflex and reveal her to you," _she explained, her voice rising through his mind with impatience. Jareth felt a wave of anger course through him, something dangerous and distracting that he could not fall prey to now. He shuddered, forcing the feeling away as he continued to search the ground.

"_Are you fucking with me?"_

"_I warned you our connection may be reestablished through physical contact. What did you think those consequences would be? Your charm has made it dangerous for her to be here Jareth. If neither of us can find her, then-"_

"_She is not in danger. I would feel my wards trigger otherwise,"_ he argued, forcing himself to remain level-headed as he processed the gravity of the situation. Sarah was in the Labyrinth, yes, but that didn't mean the end of the world was upon them. She was with her knight, and all she had to do was summon him and he would be able to go to her in an instant. It was fine. It would be fine.

"_Indeed. She is not in danger. ...Yet."_

"_What can you sense?"_ he asked, pulling back to glide them to the highest branch of a nearby tree. Flying around aimlessly was pointless. He needed a moment to think. Liana crawled along the edge of his wing and flexed her feelers.

"_She is calm. Curious. She's trying to find her way back to the castle, though the ambition has yet to reach her heart."_

"_So she's exploring? Of course she is. Gods damn it Sarah…" _He grumbled internally and shook his head. If it wasn't such a delicate situation, he would be imagining the positively legendary spanking he would be sure to give her. Liana flexed her wings again and trailed along his shoulder. The fact that she could be here meant that he was nowhere near close to Sarah...Damnit.

"_Can you blame her? She has finally connected with a tangible part of herself. Pray your knights are able to guide her safely back before something dire befalls them."_

"_What of those creatures? Can you see them if not her?"_

"_No. They are too close in proximity."_

Jareth ruffled his feathers and turned his head toward her. She was glowing, leaving trails of gold dust along his plumage.

"_You found her before. You dragged your entrails to our very window. You can find her again."_

"_Jareth...it took me all night to manage such a feat," _she said, then paused. She ceased her pacing, and if an insect could form an expression, he would have said she looked alarmed._ "I fear...we no longer have that kind of time."_

"_What? Why?"_

"_I'm not sure...but she's heard a song. A spell...I think it might be a Herdsman."_

* * *

Didymus sang a chivalric tune as he led the way for the three of them. Sarah was mostly quiet, observing and trying not to worry over the kind of trouble she was going to be in once she got back to the castle. Jareth had yet to appear, which either meant he didn't yet know or was simply biding his time. The latter theory made her nervous. Maybe she should just summon him and get it over with…

They stopped while Baldur and Didymus bickered over which direction to take next.

"Right I say! Always right."

Baldur shook his head, glancing down at his compass as he gestured towards the left.

"I've discerned our location Didymus. This way will be faster."

"Your compass must be broken, Captain, for I am sure this is the way!"

"Didymus...I know you're new to squad mentality, but need I pull rank once again?"

"Hey um, guys?" Both Didymus and Baldur fell silent and turned back to Sarah. She was standing a couple of feet away from them, her head turned away and a frown marring her brow. "Do...you hear that?"

* * *

"_A Herdsman? You're positive?" _Jareth asked, shuffling anxiously along the branch.

"_Not entirely, but the song is familiar"_

"_Shit."_ Without thought, Jareth took to the sky again. _"The song should not affect her. The goblins perhaps, but not her."_

"_Then it is simple curiosity that guides her, for that is undoubtedly where she is going." _Liana spoke hastily, which had Jareth sneering internally.

"_Then kill it. If you can sense that much then kill the thing before she gets close enough."_

"_Have you not been listening?" _Liana interjected._ "Your charm has a very potent area of proximity. It's too close to her for me to hone in on. I could attack where I *think* it is, but I risk harming her as well."_

"_It seems my magic turned out stronger than intended."_

"_Please. This is not the time to be patting yourself on the back Jareth." _Liana scurried along his back, focusing to narrow in on Sarah's location as best as she could. She could not see her, but she was still within the Labyrinth and that she _could_ feel. Like a cancer. _"Hold on...Stop here. I want to try something," _she said, and he glided to the peak of an obelisk. Liana fluttered away from him, moved about in circles in front of his face. Suddenly, the ground around them began to tremble, harsh tremors coursing through the Labyrinth in waves one after another. After a moment, the waves crashed and a huge explosion of dust clouded into the air. Jareth's head darted over to it, to an area that was very, very far away. _"There- That ring of destruction? That is the perimeter of your spell. Find its center and you'll find her," _Liana said, and Jareth's eyes widened. Without hesitation, he leapt into the air and flew as fast as he could towards the smoke. He still could not transport himself to her. He'd have to scour the area the old fashioned way. He caught sight of Liana fluttering near him once more, steadily falling behind as he neared the barrier. _"You'd better hurry Jareth. She may be immune to its influence but not its poison. If I feel her life is threatened, I will use every ounce of my power to force her awakening and save her. Do you understand?"_

"_It won't come to that."_

"_You better hope so."_

* * *

"Hear what, My Lady?" Baldur asked, both he and Sir Didymus's ears perking up as they listened. They all turned, towards a path leading right, and gradually the lull of a distant tune revealed itself. Sarah narrowed her eyes in its direction. Something seemed...off about it.

Sir Dydimus was the first to take a step towards it.

"My, what a lovely melody," he said, sounding a bit enraptured. Baldur followed him, which in turn inspired Sarah to follow as well.

"What could it be?" Sarah asked, feeling more caution than curiosity as her two knights took one step after another away from the paths they were once so adamantly disputing over.

"I don't know. It is pretty though…" Now it was Baldur's turn to sound beguiled. That was suspicious. Sarah planted her feet and called back their attention.

"Hey. Aren't we supposed to be going the other way? Where are you two going?" she asked. They ignored her and kept on walking. Sarah pursed her lips and, reluctantly, followed them.

The song grew louder as an echo that drifted along the walls. It was low, gritty, like an accordion maybe? She couldn't tell. The rhythm pulsed, like a slow waltz, and steadily drew them nearer. Sarah walked behind Didymus and Baldur, observing them closely as a feeling of worry began to gnaw at her.

"Didymus- I really think we should try a different route," she called out. Maybe she should call for Jareth now...but she didn't. As she trailed her hand along the walls, as the tips of her fingers grazed the moss and the grit and grime, something about it kept her calm. Beyond the worry, she still felt safe. She had...no idea why...

She startled when a sudden tremor moved through the ground, and looked to the sky as an alarming boom, like the sound of a canon, jerked her back to attention. She could see puffs of smoke rising in the distance. _What the hell was that?_ she wondered.

"Nonsense, My Lady. I am positive this is the correct path," Didymus assured.

"Yes...this seems like the right way," Baldur agreed.

"Besides, none shall harm you with me by your side."

They spoke with their typical cadence but Sarah was still frowning. The song was playing even louder now and she recognized the addition of a flute. It sounded...like the source was just up ahead.

They rounded a corner and the baying of sheep caught her off guard.

"What the hell?"

The path ahead opened into a circular courtyard. It was still a ways away, but she could already see the white and fluffy forms of a herd of sheep being rounded in formation. Sarah drew her brow on the image, not understanding what she was seeing. The closer they approached, the more suspicious she became. The animals...there was a fluidity to them, as if they were gliding in sync to the music.

As they entered the courtyard, all three of them stood and glanced around.

The space was littered with a couple dozen, maybe even more, very decrepit-looking sheep. Their faces, Sarah remarked, were goblin-like and not anything she had ever seen in her world. They were dirty, and matted, and not well cared for. They were moving in circles, like they were blind, bumping into one another and whining aimlessly. Both Baldur and Didymus were slightly to her left, which she was glad for, as she turned in that direction and was greeted by the_ musician_ that had called them there.

There was a goblin, she presumed, leaning against the wall of the courtyard. It was large, about as large as Baldur, and probably stood to her shoulder when straightened. It was oddly shaped, asymmetric protrusions and limbs rendering it something innately_ wrong_. It wore many layers of tattered rags in blue and red, and donned a black, wide-brimmed hat that was angled to cover most of its face. It had two long, disproportionately large arms that played an accordion, and two other small, feeble looking arms that handled a flute brought close to its mouth. It carried a pack on its back, something large and staggered like that of the junk-lady she'd once met. She took a step away from it instinctively. There was something malevolent about this creature. Something dangerous.

She watched as Baldur and Didymus took an unconscious step towards it and, from their eerie silence, she wondered if they had been spelled.

"Baldur. Didymus. Don't move," she told them, grabbing them both by the shoulder and halting their stride. Thankfully, they did not fight her, something which caught the attention of the performer. The sound of the flute stopped abruptly, and the creature stood straight from the wall.

It had a beak, two beady yellow eyes, and small, pointed teeth that revealed themselves in a cunning smile.

"Ah? And what is this?" it asked. Sarah tensed her jaw. It was taller than she'd realized. Actually, it was damn right imposing. She said nothing right away, simply observing as its larger arms changed the tone of its tune. "Merry travelers I see. Let us count, one, two...three." It stepped towards them, the pack on its back swaying in an unbalanced motion. Sarah gripped the shoulders of her knights a little harder.

"Good day to you...Is this your flock?" she asked, awkwardly. The goblin tilted its head at her, its eyes scouring fiercely over her face. It looked confused, and began to play its accordion with more fervor.

"Flock? Flock, flock, flock...Here, take a rock," it said, and tossed a series of pebbles at their feet. Sarah flinched back, but not Didymus and Baldur. She saw they were oval and smooth, carved with a strange runic swirl. She scowled at them, then jolted when Baldur and Didymus each reached down to pick one up.

"Hey- guys- don't touch those!"

She'd learned enough from Jareth to know better than to touch anything this creature offered her. And, from the way her goblin companions fell for the ploy so readily, her suspicions were confirmed that they were indeed bewitched. She was confused for a moment. She felt totally fine. And then she remembered the ring on her finger. The conduit Jareth had made for her that he assured would keep her safe from magical influences. Damn. Looks like she would be the one protecting them.

She jerked the two of them back before they had the chance to touch the pebbles and, for some reason, they both gasped as they broke from their daze.

"Wh-what? Sarah? I say, what is going on?" Didymus asked. He huffed and began to glance around fervidly, like he had no idea where they were. This worried Sarah, who then looked to Baldur as he shook the delirium from his head.

"What in the...we were bewitched? Sarah are you alright?" he asked, staring up at her just long enough to catch her nod before realizing they were not alone. He turned to face the creature and immediately withdrew his sword.

"Didymus, it seems we've fallen prey to a Herdsman. Quickly. Defend your Queen." The panic that had Didymus huffing and puffing was apparently superficial, for after hearing these words he calmed himself immediately and stood on the defensive. Sarah, with her hands still gripping their shoulders, finally allowed herself to feel true alarm. She wasn't sure how, but she knew she was the one who had broken their enchantment. Was it because of Jareth's charm? Did her physical contact extend its protection to them? That seemed the only explanation she had time to ponder and, not wanting to test that theory, cemented her grip on them.

"Verily," Didymus said, angling his staff at the creature which was now taking a step towards them, its head cocking from one side to the other as it regarded them.

"Oh? You're awake?"

"Who are you? Wh-what are you?" Sarah asked, now pulling her friends back with her in preparation to flee. The fingers on the creature's smaller hands danced about the keys of the flute before tucking the instrument into a pocket.

"Sman, Milady, Herd Sman. And this here is my flock."

Sarah narrowed her eyes. Herd Sman? Herdsman...

"Hm, how terribly clever," she said, unimpressed. The goblin took another careful step towards them and twitched. She heard and felt the shift of her knights' stances in reaction to it.

"Sarah...we must tread carefully. This creature has a nasty way of-"

"For now or for never, or whether the wether, an eye on the weather doth see?"

Sarah blinked, Baldur's warning cut dead as the creature spoke, in a playful sing-song, at them.

"Um, What?"

"Oh! But the pebble you toss be there across! Land on a phony must thee. Go on, take one. Nay, take three. A pebble for each. You'll see."

Sarah's furrowed brow was joined by widened eyes as she tried to figure out what the fuck it was saying to her. It was pointing out into the flock, but its eyes were trained intently on them. She glanced down to the pebbles cast at their feet.

"I have no idea what you're saying."

"_Didymus, do you see a way out?" -"Nay Captain, the path has closed. We shall have to cross the courtyard,_" Baldur and Didymus whispered to one another. All three of them kept their eyes intent on their foe as it geared up for response.

"A riddle my dear, to be perfectly queer. An answer in err to yon maiden fair, as one past my shoulder must be."

"What? Is this Alice in Wonderland?" Sarah asked, crudely, and glanced around looking for a way out. Dydimus was right, the path they had taken was now closed. The only other exit she could find was an open path on the opposite end of the courtyard. They'd have to go through the flock to get there… Great. She huffed, shaking her head in exasperation. "Oh, who am I kidding it might as well be! You won't let us across until I answer your riddle? Is that it? Do you know who I am?"

She was angry, rightly so. The goblin named Sman bowed to her emphatically.

"Long live the Queen they say, Lady of the land, Maiden of the sky and sea. But the rules my dear are perfectly clear, even a riddle for you, times three!"

"How dare thee challenge our Lady! Remove yourself at once or you will suffer the consequences!" Didymus proclaimed, angered, and took an impulsive step forward. Sarah halted him and kept him close to her side. She didn't know what could happen if she broke contact with either of them. Though, as it was panning up, she worried they may be fighting their way out of this before long.

"That's right. I am your Queen. And you will obey."

"My Queen? Aye, a Queen, but not mine. Not yet, don't fret. There is time." She watched as the goblin raised its playing arms higher to reveal a third set. This pair was kept tucked close to its torso and was holding a small box. "Trinkets and trankets and fistfulls and banquets. A fleece of pure gold, you'll be."

"I have no idea what you are even saying," she said, nervously.

"Sarah...perhaps we should try to play the game. It will let us leave peacefully if we win," Baldur advised. Sarah bit her cheek, wondering if she could take that risk.

"Why do you want us to take these rocks so badly?" she asked, doing nothing more than buying some time as she tried to think her way out of this.

"They're its token," Baldur mumbled. Sarah glanced down to him quickly.

"What?"

"Accepting them binds us to the game."

"Well_ binding_ ourselves does not sound like something we should be doing," she replied.

The Herdsman looked disappointed in them and began to extend the arms which were holding the box.

"But...the pebble thy toss, t'is guided by cost. Was that not how you happened upon me? The price is fair for those who dare take this gift of music and flee."

"What? Speak English please." She waited for it to respond but it only stared at her, its peculiar beak somehow managing to smile again. Sarah narrowed her eyes. "We have to pay for hearing your music? And the price is this game? Oy vey..."

"The clearer the flock the harder the rock. Beware of the goat named Scape amongst thee."

Sarah took in a deep breath, and groaned. _*Sigh* Alright, brain. Time to fire up_.

_A goat among the sheep? No...a 'scape'goat -a loophole out of the riddle. The clearer the flock? _She peered around and, somehow, it looked like there were even more sheep than before. _Hm...It's only gotten more dense...confusing...my mind? The clearer the flock, the clearer my mind...the harder the rock...my...resolve? The clearer my mind, the harder my resolve...focus and I should be able to figure a way out...?_

_For now or for never, or whether the weather...no, no, it's...whether the wether? What the fuck is a wether? An eye on the weather doth see...eye on the weather? No...eye of the weather...eye of the storm. Do the sheep see the eye of the storm? But the flock is my mind...okay...do I see the real danger here?_

_Landed on a phony...what does he mean by phony?_ Sarah turned away and stared out over the courtyard, wondering how these stupid stones fit into the mix. As the sheep moved, she realized they were tagged, painted with strange symbols on their flanks. And she realized…

They matched the marks of the stones.

But what did that mean? _The pebble thy toss…_ Was she supposed to throw a stone? _Was that not how you happened upon me? _They came because of the music. The sheep, Sir Dydimus and Baldur, responded to the music. There was a correlation between the stones, the music and the sheep, but she had no idea what.

_Damn. _This riddle was turning out to be a lot more difficult that the last she'd had to deal with.

_An answer in err to yon maiden fair, as one past my shoulder must be...He's...he's saying that if I answer wrong I'll...A fleece of pure gold, you'll be._

_I'll become one of his sheep?_

But that was wrong. That was wrong because she did not yet pick up a stone. She was not playing its game. And, as she acknowledged the true danger here, determined that none of them would be playing at all.

"You're trying to threaten me, yes? Alright, how about you riddle me this instead," Sarah said, calling up every bit of literary prowess she could muster. "A sheep in dismay does the wolf yet play, in tethers and thrash and tool-" She winced as she spoke, hoping she was making sense, or maybe not. Maybe it would be better to stump the riddler. "A fleece of gold? It protects this soul, with feathers and magic, you fool. So the phony should skip his merry quips. A deal for you, these rams and the yew, best be gone and take heed." Okay, so it wasn't so much of a riddle as it was an even more aggressive threat, but by the way the goblin flinched back it seemed her meaning had been conveyed. She felt a little proud of herself, until his look of surprise turned to that of offense, this is.

"Is that an answer I hear, as you take up the spear? Surely you jest, this was but a test. Come, take a stone and see."

Sarah drew back. It wasn't backing down. Was not the least bit intimidated by her status. What the hell? Was there a reason it wasn't respecting her authority? If anything, she'd say it was targeting her because of it. She renewed her grip on her companions and stood a little closer to them. "Guys...stay close to me," she whispered.

"No," she stated, loudly, looking the creature square in the eye. "I refuse."

She couldn't answer wrong if she didn't answer at all, right? Was that the loophole? She had no idea, not that it mattered. The goblin regarded her curiously, as if just now noticing something was off about her.

"No?" it repeated, tilting its head sharply as the arms which had been idly holding the box now moved and turned it around. She saw a crank on one side. Like a jack-in-the-box. Without taking its eyes from her, it began to turn the handle, slowly, and a new melody layered over the treble of the accordion. Sarah clenched her jaw. It looked more serious all of the sudden. And focused, entirely, on her.

The jingle, broken and raspy, reminded her of a creepy carnival. Her eyes narrowed on the box, wondering what the hell was supposed to be happening.

"Take a pebble. You shan't miss. T'is only a game among friends. I insist."

Sarah took a step back, but this time found that Baldur and Didymus would not budge. She looked down to them and saw their posture had become aggressive.

"I fear we may be forced to fight, My Lady. Are you prepared?" Baldur spoke. He peered up at her discreetly and she nodded. "Stay behind us…"

She looked back to The Herdsman and glared.

"I said no," Sarah reaffirmed. The Herdsman looked...perplexed. It blinked its eyes repeatedly and sneered.

"Can you not hear? Listen carefully, my dear. Curious, curious…" its voice trailed off as a shadow rose overtop it and darkened a path on the ground between them. Sarah's eyes darted up and realized, with alarm, that something was now erecting from the crate nestled on top of the creature's back. It was tall, weirdly mechanical, but also fleshy and somehow living. The appendage stretched, and then curled back into an S. And she saw at its end, aiming directly at her, the deadly point of a stinger. What. The. Fuck. "Perhaps a tune more severe for our Queen and her peers..."

"It's going to attack. Sarah, get down!" Baldur commanded and Sarah obeyed, instinctively dropping to the ground behind them as the scorpion-like appendage struck. She fisted her hands into the back of Baldur and Didymus's coats, hating herself, in that split second, for using them as shields.

She shrieked. Not out of pain, or fear, but in surprise. There was a sudden crash. A loud, electric sound that cut the air the moment the stinger should have hit them. She opened her eyes and saw a violent array of light and static and magic, a barrier, that prevented the attack from reaching them.

"What the-"

"His Majesty's wards. They must be protecting you," Didymus said, tightening his grip on his staff as they are marveled at the spectacle for just a single second.

The sound and the sight receded, just as a painful howl escaped The Herdsman. Its stinger retracted, twitching sporadically as it adjusted. The creature growled, hunkering down slightly as if the field had crippled it. Sarah saw blood dripping from lacerations that now wounded it, and her jaw dropped at the physical realization of just how amazing Jareth's magic actually was.

"Come on. We need to get out of here-"

* * *

Jareth flew faster than he ever thought possible, cursing himself for making the radius of his spell so large. He was nearing the center now. He was almost there.

And then he felt his defensive wards trigger.

A flash of fear Jareth had never before felt shot violently though him but he shook it away. He needed to stay calm. It was only once. It was well intact. It was fine. She was fine. She was safe.

She had yet to call out to him.

_Goddamn it Sarah, don't be a fucking idiot…_

* * *

"Come on. We need to get out of here-"

"Captain, take thy Lady to safety. I shall distract it from your escape," Didymus said, jerking himself from Sarah's hold. Baldur, in immediate agreement, grabbed onto Sarah's arm and pulled her away. In a panic, Sarah reached out for Didymus instinctively.

"What? No! Didymus, you need to stay by me!" she called out, but it was too late. With a growl, Didymus reared back and thrust his staff at the creature.

"You dare to attack our Queen! Prepare to meet thy maker, foul beast!" he shouted, and charged.

"Didymus!"

"Sarah come! We must get you to safety-"

"No, you don't understand. Jareth's wards will protect all of us. If he-"

Sarah's eyes widened. Her voice, her plea, fell dead in her throat. She watched as Sir Didymus ran, without fear, without hesitation to lay his life on the line for hers; watched helplessly, and with horror, as the wounded tail of the Herdsman coiled and then struck, mercilessly, at the center of his chest.

"D-Didymus?" She was in shock and stood, petrified, against the urgency of Baldur's grip on her arm, as she watched Didymus's body fall limply to the ground. The world around her ceased to be, and all she saw was the tragedy before her. She couldn't breathe. Couldn't blink. Could do nothing-

The Herdsman coiled back a third time and turned its attention back to her, striking without hesitation as she stood, dumbly, like all the other sheep.

The deafening sound of Jareth's wards ripping the air in destructive vehemence around her thrust her back to reality and she fell to the ground in stupefaction. Wha-what the hell was she doing? Why wasn't she moving? Why wasn't she calling for Jareth?

Jareth?

The Herdsman screamed in pain yet again, but this was not enough to deter it. If anything, such injury only committed itself to her. The tail of the stinger now broke in several places and contorted but still functioned, and it bled profusely over the possibly lifeless heap of Sir Didymus. It poised to strike at her again, determined to break through her shield. Sarah, taking Baldur fiercely by the arms and dragging him with her as she scuttled back, cried out just before impact-

"Jareth!"

All sound retreated. And the air, as it was forcefully pulled from her lungs, fell into a vacuum as time itself seemed to balance on a razor's edge. A split second. That's all it was. Before reality barreled and returned, in cacophony, as everything around her was hopelessly obliterated.

She saw the blackened form of her savior pierce the ground before her like a meteor's strike, the shockwave from his impact sending the sheep and wayward rubble crashing violently into the walls, which broke their bodies in near-instantaneous death as they screamed guttural pleas of agony.

He stood with his back to her, but her eyes, wide and unblinking, saw all as he stepped forward and, with nothing more than a curled fist, snapped the stinger from the Herdsman's body, not once, not twice, but over and over as the creature doubled over and screamed. Its body fell into pieces, but before it could take its dying breath, Jareth's arm raised and, with the force of his magic, sent the wretched thing spirling backward through the wall.

And then it was silent. And then it was dead. Just like that. In just one, single second. Everything was _dead_.

Reality caught up to her and had her fighting to her feet faster than she could blink. She ran over to Didymus, threw herself at his lifeless body, and sobbed. He was on his stomach, so she rolled him over and inspected the wound on his chest. It bled, but not much and, to her immediate relief, she saw that he was still breathing. He was alive. Her heart was beating too fast for her to manage. Adrenaline and fear dominated her every action. As her eyes scoured the wound, she saw a number of barbs broken off into the flesh. It was sheer instinct that she pull them out-

"Sarah?! Don't touch that!"

Everything had happened within the span of a heartbeat. Jareth had felt his wards trigger, over and over, until finally, as his rage seethed, she called to him. He was there. Instantly. He was by her side and she was alive. She was unharmed. Blinded with rage, with bloodlust, with fear, and panic, he reacted the only way he knew how. And-

He was too overwhelmed to notice she had run to the goblin's side. It was too late for him to stop her as the voice of Baldur called out behind them. He turned around. Turned towards her. And it felt as if his very soul departed him as he strangled himself on a breath. His eyes widened, time slowing over just one millisecond, as he watched her withdraw a barb and then wince as she pricked her finger upon it.

"Tch- Ow that hurt," Sarah said, dropping the barb and then shook her hand. She was sitting back on her knees, and then suddenly swayed with a strange sense of vertigo. "Wha...what's happening…" She fell back on her butt, left pitifully unaware as Jareth suddenly engulfed her with his arms and lifted her to his chest. "J-Jareth?"

"Shut up."

Before she could blink, they were gone. They were gone and she panicked and, against her better judgement, fought her way out of Jareth's hold.

"What? Where are- what about Sir Didymus! We have to help him!" she shouted, her judgement thoroughly compromised by fear, and sorrow, and panic. Jareth growled and gripped her painfully, causing her to cry out as he held her, like a vice, against his torso. He was carrying her, walking briskly. And, as she struggled, she realized they were back in the castle.

"Not another word out of your mouth."

"But- Didymus!"

"Silence!" The tenor of Jareth's voice resounded as a deep baritone Sarah had never heard before. It silenced her, dreadfully, and she gazed up at him as she trembled in response to it.

She flinched when he suddenly kicked open a door. The door to her bathroom. Why the hell was it so hard for her to orient her surroundings? He brought her to the center of the room, dropped to his knees, and pushed her on the floor.

"H-hey-" she gasped, confusion and distress steadily rising in her voice. She had no idea what was happening. Too much was happening. All she could think about was whether or not Sir Didymus was alive and Jareth -she'd never seen Jareth so malignantly angry.

"Turn around," he ordered, his voice so low and cold. It made her shiver and, when she hesitated, he reached out and pushed her by the back of the shoulder. She thrust her hands against the cool stone of the floor to catch herself, and startled when Jareth's hands were suddenly pulling at the back neck-line of her dress and ripped it, effortlessly, down the center. "Do not move."

Against his command, that was exactly what Sarah did. She could not help it. Her survival instincts were getting the better of her, controlling her when she knew, she really did know, to obey him. She shifted to look back at him and caught the air of bitter admonishment in his stare before he reached out, grabbed her by the back of the head, and slammed her face back to the floor.

Sarah gasped again, whining, and shifted her legs uncomfortably as she struggled to regain her bearings. What the fuck was he doing? What was even happening right now? He reached forward and grabbed her wrists, stretching them out in front of her, and cemented them to the floor with magic. Sarah panted, her heart beating wildly, and struggled to see the tips of her fingers as they clawed at the tile before her. _W-what?_

In a quick, simultaneous movement, Jareth pulled her legs out from under her and straddled them, keeping her in place as he tore the dress further from her. He pushed away her hair and, after a split second of inspection said, "Brace yourself. This is going to hurt."

Sarah had enough time to hear the words but not register them before a feeling of excruciating pain tore into her. She screamed. Screamed. And thrashed her body in what little space she could. She heard Jareth growl impatiently and he lowered to brace the back of her neck with one of his forearms. Tears poured from her eyes, so thick and hot she could no longer see. The pain -at the center of her spine- it felt like he was cutting her with a hot knife. She'd never felt anything like it before. And she was too sensitized to even begin _bracing_ herself for it.

Jareth's jaw tensed as he focused on the task at hand. Sarah was screaming hysterically, writhing beneath him, shedding tears of agony and, with all probability, recoiling in fear of him. He ignored it. He had to. She would die otherwise.

When the incision was made, he cast away the knife he'd conjured and tore off his glove with his teeth. He had to act quickly. She was a human. He had no idea how much time they had.

Without consideration, he dug two of his fingers into the wound, spreading the skin, and causing her to wail even more wretchedly. He winced at the sound of it, at the pain, and resentment, and the guilt he forced himself not to acknowledge. The veins were already to her shoulder. 30 seconds was all it took. Fear...no,_ terror_. Terror seized him the likes of which he did not know existed and left him mindless. Focused. Numb.

He pulsed his magic into her and pulled it back, slowly, carefully, and brought out the venom along with it.

He withdrew his hand and watched, unblinking, as the tether of his magic bound the toxin to him and away from her body. Two droplets. That's all it was. All it took. All that was needed to kill her ten times over. He disintegrated it from his sight and looked back at her. She was shaking. Her body moved in spams as it tried to bear the pain of what he had done to her. Blood seeped from the wound on her back and trailed over her sides. His arm still held her in place, and he could see the sharp glisten of tears that pooled in her eyes. He nearly frowned. Nearly gave into the emotions he could not yet afford himself to feel.

He reared back from her, instead bringing his eyes to scan over her body. The veins had retracted. That was good…

_What luck- _he heard Liana's voice whisper in the back of his mind._ Twelve more seconds and my hand would have been forced…_

Jareth scowled, shaking his head as if that would rid him of her voice. His heart, which had been pounding, took no reprieve in those words and had no intention of settling.

Sarah was crying, the sound coming as pathetic whimpers caught between broken breaths. She pulled back her arms and was surprised by the fact that she now could. She started to lean up on her hands but struggled, her body nearly buckling from the effort. Jareth moved off of her, though she could feel him kneeling over her ankles.

"J-Jareth? W-wha-"

A witless sob escaped her as she suddenly felt herself falling back. Jareth had grabbed the hem of her torn bodice and was now pulling it roughly down her.

"S-s-stop. What are y-you-"

"I told you to stop talking," he said, in the same heartless tone as before. She gritted her teeth and fought back another sob. She was so scared. So scared and confused. She didn't even fight him as he removed the remainder of her dress from her body, nor when he lifted her again and carried her to the tub.

She did not question the fact that it was filled, nor that it was now raised from the floor and not her tub at all.

He set her within and moved to kneel at the end of it behind her. He unbuttoned his coat, unclasped his cloak, tossed both aside along with his remaining glove as he hastily rolled up the sleeves of his shirt. His eyes were scouring her back, intense and completely ignorant of the way she trembled from him in fright.

Sarah curled forward in the tub and hugged her knees, bearing her gritted teeth as she struggled to cease crying. The water was warm. It helped soothe her, if only marginally. Her entire body quaked. It hurt so bad. All of the sudden, everything hurt so bad. She was so confused. So...so….

She physically recoiled at the feeling of Jareth's hand pulling back her hair and draping it over one shoulder. The water splashed, displacing the silence between them, but he ignored it. Next she felt him pressing a cloth to her back. Felt it moving down over her without delicacy. He was washing her. What?

Jareth cleansed the streams of blood from her back in the effort to get a clear look at her. It'd only been a few seconds, but the lethal veins that had been nearing her heart from the prick at her finger were now almost completely receded. As the seconds became minutes, as the blue faded to white, he finally let himself breathe. Even though Liana had told him as much, his anxiety plainly prevented him from believing her. He needed to see it with his own eyes. He needed to know she was safe.

A fresh trickle of blood escaped the wound on her spine, aided by the dampened surface of her skin, as it streamed quickly down to the water below. Sarah flinched again, fighting off the sting and a shudder, and this time he allowed himself to notice it. His jaw clenched so tightly it made his ears flex and he dropped the cloth in order to reach out and touch her.

He didn't realize how tender it would be, and actually paused when she shrieked and lurched away from him. Sarah gasped. Sobbed. Did everything in her power not to turn around and show him her weak and demeaned expression.

Without warning, without breaking stride, he gripped her by the back of the neck and held her taught as he pressed his free hand _into_ the wound.

She cried out again, the sound harrowing, and heartbreaking, and entirely his fault. He looked away and grimaced. There was nothing else he could do. Quickly, the wound closed, sizzling audibly as the flesh mended. To Sarah it felt warm. A warming sensation that was soon to replace the pain. She settled down, relaxed her posture in his grasp, and panted heavily with strain. Once the mark was removed he released her, leaning back only slightly as she slumped forward in the tub.

"J-Jareth I- I don't unders-s-stand-"

He kept warning her to be quiet but she couldn't. Even as expressing the words from her mouth became a physical pain, she couldn't stop herself. She needed him to say something. To explain what was happening. To assure her that he wasn't as angry as he seemed-

"Enough."

His tone was level. Was dead weight in the air. Such coldness, such enmity towards her, frightened her like nothing else. Her hands gripped her knees, her fingers cutting into her skin with restlessness, before jolting as a cascade of water was poured over her head. She shivered, shying away from his touch as he pulled her matted hair away from her. She felt his fingers combing through it, and that miniscule gesture of tenderness was enough to bring her to a moment of silence.

She let him have his way, sitting, and shaking, idly as he washed her hair. The trickle of the water as he cupped it and let it fall down her body was the only sound to be heard for a long time. When he was done with her hair, he went back to her torso, retrieving one arm and then the other, to lightly scrub it clean with the cloth.

Her shaking had finally settled. Her heartbeat was not so frantic. With that said, confounded tears still brimmed her eyes and she bit her lip as hard as she could not to whimper.

"Why...why are you bathing me?" she asked, daring to break the silence. She even started to glance back but, before the gesture could be completed, his hand at her should seemed to passive-aggressively shove her forward before it brushed the cloth down her side.

"Because you're filthy," he said, and that was all. His words cut her as hard as the knife, and had her huddling into herself so she might somehow avoid the mark of disdain that made those words seem so callous. A silent shiver ran through her, and she adjusted her grip on her legs as she mustered up what little confidence she had left.

"I'm sorry," she said, sharply, as if he might strike her for saying such a thing. She sensed him pull away from her but, fearful he was about to reject her again, continued on in a flurry. "I know you don't want me to talk but-I'm sorry I- I didn't- I didn't mean to go into the Labyrinth. I didn't. I'm sorry. It just happened. I don't know how. And then- and then everything just- Please Jareth. Please don't be angry. I'm sorry. Please just-"

"Sarah…"

"I know it was stupid. I know. I should have called for you but I- I don't know. I was afraid. I-I thought I could handle it. And then-then-that thing- I don't understand. I don't understand but you're scaring me. Please. Please just don't be so mad…" She started crying again, her voice rising high and breaking between sentences. A terrible shiver vibrated her shoulders but it was not something she had any hope to control. Jareth was quiet behind her, eerily quiet. She settled down and sniffled ungracefully as she waited for him to react.

"You think...I'm angry?" he asked, softly. So softly she questioned it was he who spoke at all. She wanted to turn around to face him, but instead only gasped when arms suddenly reached into the water beneath her. She fumbled, panicked, as he lifted her up and embraced her wet, naked body close against his chest. He took a step back, hit the doors of a cabinet, and fell with her to the floor, cradling her in his arms as he muttered, "I'm not angry. I'm fucking terrified."

Sarah stared up at his shoulder, wide-eyed and speechless. His embrace kept her curled into a ball with her knees pressed up to her throat. She felt his hands, his strong, loving hands, constrict around her and she sobbed at the recognition of the tenderness she feared she had lost from him. His head angled and he pressed the side of his face against the top of her head and the position cemented. He did not move. Barely even breathed. His body was a vice encompassing her and she'd never, ever, felt such security.

The excess water from her body left him drenched, but he did not care. He cared for nothing but her, for the validation of her pulse and the warmth in her skin. She shook, crying silently, and he closed his eyes to scowl. He hugged her tighter, passed unto her everything that words would fail. Her ear was pressed to his chest and she heard, no felt, it was beating even more brutally than her own.

"Jareth…" she managed to say, raising a hand to cling to his shirt in a plea. Her feet fumbled awkwardly, her body unable to expel its energy as Jareth kept her firmly in place. She felt his chest rise on a breath -on a staggered, struggling breath.

"You almost died just now," he said, disbelief sewn into the words. Sarah furrowed her brow, confused and yet accepting them immediately. His voice was uneven, suddenly vulnerable and broken, and filled with just as much fear as hers.

"I-I'm sorry," was all she could say. She was too worked up. Too hysteric. It was impossible to think nor calm down, and maybe that was exactly how Jareth was feeling too. She turned her head and nuzzled her nose into his chest. He smelled like home. She never wanted to be anywhere else.

"Do you have any idea what would befall this world if anything happened to you?" he asked, his voice becoming a bit impassioned. "It would end. It would end because you would be gone and I would have no reason to bother living. There would be no reason for any of this to exist."

"Jareth, I didn't-" Her breath hitched when his arms constricted too tightly and he buried his face in her hair.

"Don't you dare threaten me in such a way. Don't you dare leave me," he cut her off, the words hot and muffled within the tangles of her hair. Sarah felt her lip quiver, the conviction she felt in his voice renewing the urge to cry all over again.

"I won't- I'm sorry- I didn't mean- I didn't mean for this to happen…" She shook her head and a sea of tumult, of inexplicable origins, overtook her. Her words fell short and she cried. She cried pitifully into his chest. She felt him take a sharp breath and his arms rose to engulf her head and shoulders. He angled his head down and pressed his mouth to the crown of her head.

"I know...I know."

He pet her head in a calming motion, remaining silent -with eyes still blazing- as she gradually gentled. Eventually, she fell lax in his hold and he shifted her higher in his lap.

"...I don't understand. What happened?"

Her body, exposed to the air of the room, chilled and a shiver shot up her legs. Seeing this, Jareth reached for a nearby towel and draped it over her.

"You were poisoned," he stated, his tone level but still bridled with tension. Sarah closed her eyes and savored his warmth. "I had to act as quickly as possible...to extract it." She thought she heard him wince at the end, and she frowned.

"I see...It was just a pinprick. I didn't realize…"

"That's all it would have taken. It spreads quickly, collecting in the spine before dispersing throughout the body," he explained, and she blinked repeatedly as she forced it all to make sense.

"That's why...you cut me there," she mumbled, as her eyes landed on the bloodied blade cast on the floor several feet away from them._ He...cut me..._

"Yes."

"But...your wards. They protected me. Against the song. Against those attacks. How…"

"I can hardly prevent you from committing acts of your own will," he interjected. Sarah shut her mouth. His earlier hostility was returning._ "You_ reached for the barb._ You_ punctured yourself with it. Poison and venom are not a malevolent force that I can actively shield you against. I've told you those are the_ only_ things that magic has no effect on. It is how most of my people die. Why...why would do something so stupid?"

"I didn't do it on purpose!" she said, wanting to defend herself so badly while knowing she could not. But the judgment in his voice, the _disappointment_...she just wanted it gone. "I just...I saw Didymus laying there and that thing was sticking out of his wounds and...I don't know. It was just reflexive I guess…" She turned in his arms so she was facing him, though remained in the same fetaled shape. "Is Didymus going to die?"

It was silent for a moment, Sarah listening intently as the pulse of Jareth's heart gradually slowed.

"...No," he finally said, and hers quickened. "He will live." She went to lean up but an arm around her shoulders pushed her back to his chest. For whatever reason, he didn't want her to look at him. She imagined his expression instead, and clung to him tighter. "Goblins are innately robust creatures. It takes a significant amount of effort to kill one. That wretch's toxin was designed for prey native to this world. It's a paralytic, not meant to be fatal. But you are a human. One born in the world above. You would not have lasted a full minute had I not been there."

Sarah took a moment to digest his words. She was still reeling, something -_something_\- propelling her mind a mile a minute. She felt overwhelmed. She just couldn't calm herself.

"Am I...going to be okay?" she asked, timidly. Her voice was so frail, so afraid. Jareth took a deep breath and combed his hand through her hair.

"You will live as well," he said, though she sensed there was more to come. "But…"

"But?" She pulled away and this time he let her. She looked up into his eyes, for the first time since that morning, and saw they had become red and glassy. Sarah blinked at him, and realized this was the first time she'd ever seen Jareth come anywhere even remotely close to forming tears. The look was searing, raw, and she humbled herself under it.

"Forgive me," he said, and she saw the muscle in his jaw flex as a hand rose to gently cup her face. "You're going to suffer. Unbearably."

"W-what?" Sarah recoiled just as a strange tingling sensation moved throughout her body. She contorted in his lap, unable to stop herself, and a new feeling of alarm accompanied it. She'd looked away from him, and he used the opportunity to pull her back into his embrace. "What's happening to me?" she asked, unevenly. She felt the pressure of Jareth's hand against the side of her head urging her to still.

"Try to relax. Fighting it will only make it worse." The hand holding her back caressed up and down, trying his best to soothe her as another strange spasm took hold.

"What is this? Why can't I stop myself?" she asked. It was a shiver, a vibration that grew in volume with each undulation.

"I told you, the venom you were infected with is paralytic. A very aggressive nerve toxin. I was able to remove it before it could kill you, but its preliminary effects...are not something that even I can save you from."

Sarah's heart dropped to the pit of her stomach. What? What did that mean?

"What's going to happen to me?" she asked. Her breathing started to escalate again, immune to Jareth's tender ministrations. She could feel another tremor coming on. It started in her toes. And this time, it stung.

"It causes acute muscle spasms...like a seizure. Only...they grow in rapidity and cause the host an unfathomable amount of pain. The body then falls...into a state of suspended shock," he explained, as evenly as he could manage. Imagining the level of pain Sarah was about to experience had even his hardened constitution twisting uncomfortably. In reaction to his words, he felt the next wave of her tremor amplify with her fear of it. Feeling his resolve falter for just a moment, he clung to her a little harder.

"And that's-that's what's happening now? How long will it last?" she asked, trying to keep her voice strong as she worked through the uncomfortable twinge. It was like needles. Like a numb limb combing back to life. Only it was her body. Her entire body.

"I don't know. A few hours, a day perhaps."

"A day?" Her voice broke with despair and he shifted his hold on the back of her head, rocking her slightly as he whispered into her hair.

"Shh…" His voice was so sweet. So very unlike_ him_. She wanted to cherish this moment but the circumstances made it bitter.

"Jareth I- I'm scared. It hurts." She whimpered with tightly closed eyes as her hands clawed into his shirt. Her toes were curling, shifting with discomfort as they tried to evade a sensation that had no intention of letting her go. Her body began to ache. To thrum. She felt cold and hot all at once.

"I know. I know it does," he spoke to her, calmly, tenderly, gently swaying to distract her from the plight of her failing limbs. "I will be here the entire time. I won't let you won't suffer alone," he assured, lowering an arm to brace her knees as a more powerful tremor threatened to flail them away from herself against her will. She felt like a child. Like a helpless child being coddled in such strong arms. She couldn't stand it. Couldn't stand how much she needed him.

"I-I'm so sorry. I should have called for you. I don't know why I didn't call for you-"

"Shush now...It no longer matters," he said, appeasingly, and brushed away wet tendrils of hair that had stuck to her face. She would no longer bring her gaze to him, like she was ashamed for being so weak. He sighed through his nose as he regarded her. She was so, so precious. "Stop crying. I've got you." And he kissed her temple as the first truly aggressive spasm wretched her body. She murmured in discomfort, but made no other sound. They sat silently for a moment, clinging to one another as tremor after tremor unbridled the emotions between them.

She'd never felt so close to him. Never felt so loved. His heartbeat had slowed, but the tension in his body was proof enough that he was feeling pain too. She wanted to kiss him, but she couldn't. She couldn't bear herself to move.

"Jareth?" she spoke, airily, like the breath had left her lungs too quickly. Jareth angled his head downward in acknowledgement. She clenched her eyes even tighter, wincing through the words as she said them. "...will you...would you sing to me?"

He almost pulled away. Almost loosened his grip on her in surprise.

"What?"

"I know I shouldn't ask, but...if you put me to sleep and enhanced it with a song...would I be able to sleep through the pain? Would the spell be strong enough?" Having sensed hesitation in his response, she instead tried to use reason. She knew how personal her request was. Knew, now, that it wasn't something she could simply ask for. But, he'd been teaching her about magic. Maybe that was enough of an excuse.

Jareth's brow furrowed as he stared down at the top of her head. He was not expecting that. It'd caught him off guard. No one had ever _asked_ him to sing before. He felt suddenly nervous, like an adolescent, and his pulse quickened in response. In truth, he was already planning on putting her to sleep. It was merely his own anxiety that had distracted him from yet doing so. And he did not need a song to make the slumber _strong enough_. A ghost of a grin graced his lips, as it seemed now their very thoughts were in sync. But she'd spoken first. He need not ruin this moment. He would give her anything.

"You trust me to use that level of magic on you?" he asked, a wayward sense of skepticism tailing those words. He remembered a time she would not rely on him for anything. Would not subject herself to any situation that might grant him _power_ over her. He was still vain enough to enjoy this moment. To feed his pride in her beseech of him.

"Yes...please. I want to hear it. I want to hear the song you sang while we danced."

He could feel her lips against his clavicle as she spoke, and it was the sweetest caress he'd ever known. Did she have any idea how she affected him? Any idea how much this meant to him? He felt her shudder again and he chided himself for being so self-centered. She was still in pain.

"Close your eyes," he said, and tilted her back with him as he reclined against the cabinet door. She did as he said, and tried her very best to breathe evenly so she could focus on him. He was quiet for a moment, or perhaps it was her anticipation that stretched the time. She felt his chest rise on an inhale, and then he sang-

"...There's such a sad love...deep in your eyes. A kind of pale jewel, opened and closed within your eyes...I'll place the sky within your eyes…" His voice was so soft. So subdued. It was different from before, more intimate. She found herself smiling weakly as she relaxed against him. It was better than she remembered. Without embellishment. Without ploy. Real. He really was...the most beautiful thing.

"There's such a fooled heart, beating so fast...in search of new dreams. A love that will last within your heart...I'll place the moon...within your heart." He sang leisurely, not quite in time, and glanced down at her as her body began to untense and fall into him. His spell was taking effect. Her breathing had shallowed. Her eyes, he noticed, were still closed but no longer wrenched with pain. The hand holding her head inched upward and played with her hair as he smiled at the words to come. Hm, how fitting. "As the pain sweeps through, makes no sense for you...Every thrill is gone. Wasn't too much fun at all…" He paused, repeatedly, as he spoke. He was too enamored, too focused on her features as the strain of it all faded and rendered her something peaceful and fair. He hesitated and let the moment draw out. She was hovering on the edge, just barely awake. She could hear him but he now sounded so far away. She struggled to come back, to be near him, and felt the sway of an ocean tide as he rocked her further to sleep. He watched her as her consciousness drifted, as he cast her far away into a breathless, limitless night. "...but I'll be there for you…as the world falls down…"

Her body was limp in his arms. Her eyes, fluttering with awareness, did so one final time as the words echoed, as they kissed her, as they enveloped her in warmth and tranquility, and then darkness. Pure, silent, darkness.

Jareth braced her neck and held her taut as a brutal wave of seizure shook her body violently.

* * *

The door opened. He stood with his head bowed on its threshold. A place he loathed himself to be. His clenched fist tightened and, before he could think too deeply, he forced himself to step inside.

Jareth's footsteps echoed. Layered. Filled the void that always ached for substance. That ached to exist. He pressed on. He had no path. The void would bring him to her.

A light shone from a ways ahead, a slight flicker amidst the velvet sea. He looked up and caught sight of it. That was unusual. Normally he had to wake her when venturing here.

He walked towards the source of the light silently. It grew brighter, larger, and danced as a ball of fire atop the pillar. He stood before it, before the crumpled heap of Liana who writhed beneath it.

Jareth's brow drew tightly and he frowned. It was dead quiet. Her flames were dead quiet.

"Are you alright?" he asked. Liana glanced up at him, her expression unreadable as she shook in forcible tremors. He'd never seen her like this. Never seen her as something less than.

Liana shifted in her spot on the floor, the many insect wings that composed the skirt of her dress breaking off and crumbling from the movement.

"I am," she said, and nothing more. Her voice was strained, held back, and he wondered what remained of her sentence.

"Are you compromised?" he asked, flatly, though both knew he was worried. Liana cracked a disingenuous smirk and clawed her arms around herself. The flames atop the pillar sparked, nearly earning his attention just before she responded.

"No...fret not." she said, biting through the words. She shuddered again and looked to the side. "I am merely_ feeling_ things."

Jareth's frown deepened. He knew what she meant.

"Can you not guard yourself?"

Liana glanced up at that. She did not mean to glare, though that was the look her physical state had rendered on her.

"Guard myself? I am guarding_ her_," she said, catching him off guard. She saw his fists clench at his sides. Saw the glimmer of something...concealed tightly in his hand.

"What?"

"Her agony. I am bearing it for her as much as possible." She shifted again, and for a moment he thought she meant to stand to her feet. But she didn't. Perhaps she couldn't. Instead she only staggered and resigned to remain on the floor. She was breathing heavily, suffering in a manner that was much too_ real_. He did not think she _could_ suffer. That she would _choose_ to for the sake of her master.

"Is her torment really so bad?" he asked, his voice hollow. He knew the answer. So Liana had been channeling Sarah's pain this entire time? And even still, Sarah's body writhed, contorted and seized, and she continued to whimper while under the compulsion of his sleep spell. It seemed even Liana, in all her might, could only take so much of that pain away. How sobering.

"It is...excruciating," Liana said, anger lining her words. She blinked slowly and composed herself -as best she could from her demeaning position on the floor anyway.

There was a break in the conversation. Jareth did not respond and Liana was too focused on herself to bother with him. He lifted his gaze from her, to the saucer atop the pillar and the strange energy that was forming around it. The ball of light -there was something at its center. A flower bud. Pulsing.

"What is that?" he asked. Liana peered up and then away from it.

"None of your concern," she said, curtly. Jareth scowled. Something was telling him to press the issue, but now was not the time… "What do you even want, Jareth? Should you not be tending to her?" She was irritated and clearly displeased he would intrude upon her in such an undignified state. He watched the bloom pulse for a few more seconds before responding.

"I came...to give you something," he said, distractedly. Liana trained her eyes on him. He was far too interested in her saucer. She bit her cheek in annoyance and shifted on the floor loudly -the sound redirecting his attention back to her.

"What could you possibly have for me now of all times?" she asked. Jareth glanced down, to his hand as it raised between them. He was holding a crystal. Something she failed to inspect too closely.

"First...I need you to give me something," he said, his voice lowered and vacant -something she did not pick up on right away. She hunched her shoulders as she shifted upright against her pillar.

"You dare ask anything of me? As I sit here writhing on behalf of my master? Your_ lover_? The lover you nearly condemned to death because of your idiotic charm!" she asked, firm aggravation rising in her voice. There was a tremble that shook the room at the end of her sentence, though it seemed no more than a reflection of the one now coursing through her.

"Yes...That is precisely what I've called on you for."

"Explain yourself."

Jareth paused again, and this time she registered deep contention on his brow. He knelt down to be level with her, and gripped the crystal tightly, for just a moment, as he peered into it. Her eyes widened exponentially at what she saw in it.

"Jareth, is that-"

"Your charm."

Jareth's gaze fell absently over the crystal, at the gold necklace that was now encased and barred within it. Liana's gaze contrasted him starkly, sheer alarm widening her eyes as she recoiled from it.

And then she leaned forward with intrigue.

"How...how have you brought it here? It is still active. I can feel it," she said, for perhaps the very first time, not understanding the magic at work.

Jareth's hand retreated slightly and he averted his gaze.

"It's still functional, yes. However I...am able to contain it. ...I merely need a part of you...to dissolve it."

Liana stared wordlessly for a long moment. Of all the things she'd hoped or expected of him, this was not one. His suspicion of her was too strong. His desire to protect Sarah was just as passionate as her own. She blinked and inhaled deeply. She'd been so focused on guarding Sarah she hadn't noticed this shift in him. Hadn't noticed the air of reconciliation that settled his mind.

"You would do that?" she asked, tentatively. A part of her did not believe him. Did not believe she hadn't been able to anticipate this moment. His heart was so peaceful. It was upheaved and jarred, and yet...peaceful. She watched Jareth scowl as he glared away from her.

"_Hubris_," he said, through gritted teeth. "She nearly died because of my hubris. I thought I could protect her but…" and then his voice broke. He was exceedingly frustrated and the wrist of the hand holding the crystal curled in reflection of it. "You were right. You warned me. And I, as I always do, accepted the challenge like just any other game." A tick moved through his jaw and he forced himself to look at her. He was conceding himself to her, in a way he never before had. It was demeaning. Humiliating. The only thing that felt right. "I acknowledge now that you are the_ only_ thing that can truly keep her safe. You can sense the danger before it ever makes itself known. You can evoke her and heal her in ways that I cannot. Today proved there are circumstances that I cannot prevent. Where, as you said, I cannot be there for her like you can." He rolled the crystal atop his fingers and both glanced at it reflexively as it caught the light from her fire above. "I don't trust you... I fear I may be making the worst possible mistake but...you can protect her. That's all that matters."

His voice had fallen so solemn, so defeated. He stared lifelessly at the proof of his efforts, at the tiny, delicate thing that had proved to be Liana's most formidable foe. Liana felt some of the tension leave her, her heart taming as it absorbed the quietude from his.

"_My Liege…_" she said, with an odd sense of affection that he had never heard from her. She smiled, and he drew his brow on her when she turned one of her hands palm up and then lightly grazed a forefinger along it. When she pulled back, a single golden petal was offered to him. "And there_ you_ are." She met his gaze with confidence as he accepted the token, now feeling uncertain for a myriad of reasons. Why was she looking at him like that? Was she just satisfied in his submission?

Not wanting to lose conviction by pondering all that too deeply, he looked away from her and pressed the petal to the crystal. It sank within and, automatically, the magics intertwined and the charm he'd kept so closely guarded now nulled and dissipated into the realm of the crystal. The petal too melted, its golden chroma mingling with his spell before both faded into nothingness. He frowned dejectedly, in silence. So simple. So quick. This little thing had taken so much scheming, so much effort, had complicated everything. And now it was gone. Just like that. He was defenseless. He had no more cards to bear.

He was startled by the feeling of her hand tracing a line down his cheek. Jareth looked up, visibly recoiling, but her look on him was nothing but kind. "You have no idea what this means," she said, softly. Jareth turned away from her, removing himself from her touch.

"It means now we are_ all _at your mercy," he stated. Liana tilted her head.

"No...not mine." He turned back at her curious words, though only watched as she reclined once more against the pillar. "I gave you my word. I will not interfere with the two of you. I will not instigate her awakening. In fact, in a measure of goodwill, I will continue to prolong her ascension for as long as possible...So long as you keep to _your_ word. So long as you continue to treasure her above_ all else_."

Jareth stared at the floor as he accepted her words. There was nothing else for him to do. No other corners to hide in. He knew now that she could force Sarah to awaken by whim, that it was sheer cat and mouse that she hadn't done so already. He was always powerless. It was by that charm alone that he defended his world from spiraling out of control. But that didn't matter. Nothing about this, about him, mattered. The only thing that meant anything at all was that she could live. That she never need feel that kind of pain again. That she could forget it and be allowed to smile, endlessly.

He could not bear to see her suffering. Could not bear that it was because of him. All of this. Everything. It was always because of him.

Feeling thoroughly demeaned, Jareth exhaled and stood to his feet.

"Thank you," he said, with a type of uncertainty that implied he'd never before uttered such words. Liana tilted her head again as she regarded him. The light atop her pillar pulsed brighter, though with his back now to her, he failed to see it. "Please...do not make me regret this."

He left after that. Without another word. And neither had she any more to give him. Once he was gone she stood to her feet, not without strain mind you, but with significantly less than she'd conveyed previously. She paced around the pillar, focusing on the saucer as her hands lowered into the black pool that rippled within it. Her hands lowered deeply, to the elbow, before pulling back to clutch a large mound that thumped in her hands. The viscous liquid dripped down her arms, back to the shallow saucer whence it came. The pulse of the object resounded in space, thrummed through all, and she smiled. She smiled so sweetly, and gently caressed the organ with her thumbs.

"Yes...yes I know. I felt it too." She spoke in a hushed tone, with eyes wayward and endearing, before cooing the thing to sleep and placing it back in the bowl. The thumping lulled, faded away, as did the remainder of Liana's worries. What perfect timing. Perhaps the events of the day were not as tragic as she'd thought.

* * *

Jareth walked in discontented silence as he headed back to Sarah's room. He'd initially stayed with her for several hours, watching her carefully until he was sure her condition was stabilized. He did not want to leave her, but his business with Liana felt like something that could not wait. He was beside himself. He'd never felt so defeated. All he wanted was to make Sarah happy. All he wanted was to love her. Why...was that so fucking hard?

He cursed himself. Death was not something a fae was accustomed to. It was not something one dealt with well. He swallowed hard as his eyes closed and he shook his head. Panic. Terror. Incompetence. He'd felt it all before. Only once. The last time he'd held a woman dying in his arms.

With a shudder, he pushed the intrusive thoughts away. _No_. No, this was not the time to be drudging through _that_. He rejected the melancholy and reminded himself of the fact that Sarah did live. That she would live. That he would do anything, give anything, to ensure it. It didn't matter if Liana broke her word. It didn't matter if the world ended by the time he reached her door.

He'd take her to a new world. He'd build one just for her.

"Goodness, Your Majesty!"

Jareth glared up at the sound of a very frightened nymph flagging him down from the end of the hall. He stopped pacing, and stood rigidly as she hurried to face him.

"Where is Sarah? What happened? Is she alright?" Her look and her voice were impassioned, her stare piercing straight through his in a very aggravating manner.

"You forget yourself," he said, with warning, though in actuality her lack of decorum was the least of his qualms. Mariella recoiled, her expression falling pitifully, and she took a step back before bowing her head and clasping her hands out in front of her.

"F-forgive me, Your Grace. I meant no disrespect. It's just. Gods, I'm so scared. Is Sarah okay? Is she hurt? Captain Baldur just returned to the castle and it's said that Sir Didymus was greatly injured. The entire castle is in uproar. The Captain said you retrieved her but no one has seen or heard anything for hours. I'm just-"

"Enough." Jareth's voice, though commanding, was much softer than she'd anticipated. She peered up, keeping her head bowed, and found him to look remarkably...tired. He was staring down at her, no, through her. And this surprising lack of aggression gave her the courage to relax her posture slightly. She began to straighten, though kept her gaze averted from his. Jareth sighed, though it was a gesture too subtle to realize. "She is alive," he said, plainly. Mariella, on instinct, again broke custom and shot her gaze up at him.

"Thank gods," she said, feeling a surge of relief so powerful it was audible in her voice. Jareth, admittedly affected by the display, chose to ignore her continued eyes on his. "Will she be alright?"

"She will...in time."

Now Mariella frowned. A worried hand raised to her chest.

"May I ask what you mean?"

"She is resting now...she will require several days to fully recover," he explained, and watched as Mariella's brow drew tight with worry.

"Recover?"

Jareth's gaze on hers hardened as she realized the direness of her situation.

"She was poisoned," he said, his expression unfazed when she took a fearful step back.

"Gods...Your Majesty I'm- forgive me, I am so sorry." She bowed herself low in a fit of repentance and placed her hands to her knees. "Punish me as you will. Take my life, I owe it. I offer it willingly," she said, alluding to his threat of taking all of their heads should Sarah come to harm. He saw her hands tighten into fists on the skirt of her dress as she prostrated herself before him, and his expression hardened further. "All that matters is that she is okay. That she will be okay. I am so happy for that. So unbearably relieved."

There was waver in her voice, raw emotion that could never be feigned. Jareth's frown worsened as he registered it. As he recognized the despondency and bittersweet hopefulness that weighed her shoulders. This woman...really did love her, too, didn't she?

He felt his posture relax, if only slightly.

"Thank her," he said, and she glanced up impulsively. He took a step, glancing down and pausing only when they stood in line. "Were it not for her fondness of you, you would be dead where you stand," he finished, and then walked away.

Mariella straightened and stared after him, her racing heart not anywhere close to relieved. She was nearly certain he intended to punish her. It was certainly within his right. Had he really shown mercy? Was Sarah truly alright?

She gulped and turned away. Her instinct was to go to Sarah but knew from the direction Jareth was headed in that that was his intended destination. No...no she was not needed right now. What she needed to do was inform Master Roldan. To call off the Guard and settle the castle down. Goodness...what a shocking turn of events.

* * *

Sarah winced as she struggled to open her eyes. She saw such blackness. Vast, unending blackness. It was warm. Tangible. Like being held. Like the very depths of the cosmos itself was enveloping her.

She had no idea how long she'd been asleep, but her body felt like a dead weight that strained to move. The light from her window shone brightly. Too brightly. And she realized it was because the sun was glaring at her. That only happened in the early morning...what time was it?

Scowling, she blinked until her eyes adjusted and she tried to shift farther up the bed. Wait. Bed? When did she get into bed? She glanced over herself and saw she was wearing a nightgown, and was tucked neatly beneath her comforter.

She brought a hand to rub the sleep from her eyes and then peered to the left. There. At the edge of the bed just shy of her shoulder, with his arms crossed and his head lain lifelessly atop them, was Jareth. Her captor. Her husband. And now her savior.

As if feeling her shifting through the mattress, he roused, waking from an apparent slumber, as he lifted his head slowly from the bed. Their eyes locked, for just a moment, before a shroud lowered over his and his gaze passed through her.

"Ah, you're finally awake."

Sarah's brow twisted slightly. She was confused. Disoriented. He looked exhausted, like he hadn't slept in days. How long had he been sitting at her bedside?

"How...how long was I out for?" she asked. Jareth leaned up and took in a deep breath as he glanced across the room at the clock.

"About eighteen hours," he said, to her surprise. "It's nearly six a.m."

Sarah pressed her hands to the bed and tried to sit up. She failed, and could only whimper as her body fell hopelessly back to the mattress.

"Don't-" Jareth warned, quickly turning his attention back to her. Sarah scowled and gave in, letting herself go lax.

"Why...why does it still hurt? Why can't I move?" she asked. Jareth frowned as he regarded her, hesitating before responding.

"The seizures can cause extensive damage to the muscular structure of your body. Like millions and millions of micro-tears. A being of this world might be able to manage it better but...as a human, I imagine you will be very sore for the next couple of days. I suggest you take it in stride," he explained, though Sarah was finding it hard to focus. Instead she was trying to remember the previous day, to dissect in retrospect everything that had happened.

"So...I really was able to sleep through it then," she said, glancing away as the haze cleared. It came back to her in pieces. The Labyrinth. The monster. The pain. And then his song. She remembered his song.

"Yes. Though, not quite as peacefully as I'd hoped," he said, which caught her attention. She glanced over to him.

"I don't remember anything," she said, meaning to reassure him. His eyes lowered however, creating an expression that was less than satisfied. Sarah frowned.

"Good."

"What...what happened? I know you said I was poisoned but…" She closed her eyes and grimaced as she shifted on the bed. She couldn't help it. She was far from comfortable but every little twinge just made her feel worse.

"What attacked you is known as a Herdsman," he said.

"Yeah...Baldur said as much. Why did it attack us?"

"It wanted to take you as part of its flock."

"What?"

Sarah rolled her head towards him again and this time her eyes widened. In a sense she'd already guessed that, but the memories were still blurry and not quite put together. She remembered its riddles. The way it threatened to turn her should she answer them wrong...

"Its venom causes paralysis," Jareth explained, pulling her from her thoughts. "It uses it to immobilize its victims before cursing them into the form of cattle, mindless and obedient, which it leads from market to market and sells off to the highest bidder." Jareth's expression and his tone gave nothing away, but Sarah, purely unable to shield herself at the moment, gaped at him with alarm.

"What? You mean slaves? It sells them as slaves?"

"Yes."

Her distress quickly shifted to outrage as she scowled and shook her head.

"But...I'm the Queen…I told it that but that only made it more interested." She didn't get it. Why wasn't it afraid? Even as it injured itself in the process...Didn't it realize Jareth would retaliate?

"Exactly," Jareth said, surprising her by reaching out and clasping her hand. She looked over to him to find his lowered gaze now troubled. "You are...undoubtedly, the most_ valuable_ prize in the kingdom."

"I don't- why did it not acknowledge my authority? Or yours for that matter. Is that kind of business legal here?" she asked, beside herself. Feeling impassioned, she subconsciously made a move to sit up again and, upon seeing her struggling efforts, Jareth sighed roughly and stood from his chair as he leaned over her.

"Your understanding of societal infrastructure is childishly black and white," he said, grumbled really, as he crawled over her and laid down on the bed beside her. Sarah paused, allowing him to turn her away from him as the length of his body settled against hers. One of his arms snaked under her pillow, while the other draped over her, and he pulled her back against his torso as he embraced her from behind. It should have been an intimate gesture. It should have reassured her. But it didn't. Not from the air of exasperation that had stung her as he spoke. "It is most certainly not _legal_. But yes, the industry exists all the same. I've told you, countlessly, that not all of my subjects are honorable, law-abiding members of society. A human Queen, to the right buyer, would be a _priceless_ collectible."

Sarah's arms drew into herself. He was scolding her, a hint of derision in his voice. She could feel the heat of his breath in the back of her hair as he spoke, and while he was very much calm and level-headed, it registered as something louder to her. His arms were caging her in, holding her in a manner that she realized was not so much out of tenderness, but in the simple effort to prevent her from trying to sit up once more.

"So those...all those sheep...they were people?" she asked. There was turmoil in her voice, disbelief, outrage. Those dozens of sheep had been actual people, people who had been kidnapped, and drugged, and forced into a life they did not want...And Jareth killed them. Without a blink. He killed them. They were innocent. Slaves. She didn't...no, she couldn't think about that right now.

"Yes," he said, vacantly, as if sensing the turn of her thoughts. She felt his hands, gripping her wrists, tighten just barely. He was tense against her, no doubt anticipating where she would lead the conversation next.

"You...killed them…"

There was no judgement in her voice, at least she hoped not. She felt...conflicted, but more so she knew enough not to belittle him for taking decisive action.

"_Yes_," he said, harshly. Sarah flinched. Damn. Guess her tone wasn't as impartial as she'd thought. "I killed everything within a threatening proximity o_f you_. I reacted in a manner that saved_ your_ life."

"I know. I know I'm not- I'm not trying to sound ungrateful, but...they were innocent," she said, doing little to help her cause. She curled into herself a little more as she struggled for bearings.

"Innocent?" Jareth repeated, as if offended by the word. She felt him huff in her hair. "They were bewitched. Their minds were no longer theirs. That creature could have just as easily used them against you."

"Oh…" and her eyes lowered to the bed. She'd never...considered that... "I'm sorry-"

"You're damn right you are," he said, sharply, and startled her when he sighed and adjusted his grip to instead lace the fingers of both their hands together. Sarah was silent, but stared at their conjoined hands as a tiny flare of warmth struck her. His splayed fingers constricted hers, the tenderness of the hold betraying his anger as he said, "How many times must I repeat myself? How many times have I told you how dangerous it is within the Labyrinth?"

"A lot. I know. I didn't go in there intentionally. It freaking took me," she argued, to her defense. She was glad she wasn't facing him. In her current state, she wasn't sure she would be able to handle whatever his expression had twisted into. His voice was rising, gaining more anger with each sentence.

"You should not have been anywhere remotely near it. Why do you think you were restricted to the market sector?"

"So you didn't trust me?"

"A suspicion well-founded, it seems."

And now they were arguing. Sarah, fighting against the instinctive urge to turn around and glare at him, resigned herself to squeezing his hands in equal frustration.

"I did not go in!" she repeated, her voice straining as she forced it to remain as composed as possible. "Ask the guards, I never had any intention of going in. All I did was touch the damn thing…"

"Exactly. And look at the consequences your carelessness has yielded you." She said nothing to that. Only stewed as he pressed his nose into her hair. "You should have called for me the moment it spirited you away."

"I...I know. I just...didn't think it was such a big deal. A part of me thought you must have known...that if I were in danger you would have scooped me up well beforehand," she tried to explain, to somehow justify herself when she knew she had no real explanation. How could she say being there had just_ felt _right? How could she convey the strange feeling simply touching the walls had given her? Would she sound crazy? Was she crazy?

"And after it attacked?"

"I...I don't know. I got caught up in the moment. Maybe it was adrenaline. I wasn't thinking."

"No. You weren't." There was an edge to his voice that now contradicted the supposed tenderness of his hold and Sarah found herself trying to pull their hands apart in response to it. "What did you promise me just this morning? That _you would not walk into pointy objects?_ Did you think that was a joke? I knew you were reckless, but never before have I regarded you as_ stupid._"

"You don't have to be mean-"

"Don't I? How else am I to express myself?" Jareth interrupted her, jerking on her hands in warning for her to cease pulling away from him. Sarah was starting to get scared again. The tone of his voice was rising, but his manner did not match his words. It was confusing. "You can't possibly begin to understand what I'm feeling. If I ever lost you…" he muttered, softer this time, but still terse with contention.

"Jareth…"

"You have no idea. No fucking idea how close you came to death," he carried on as if she'd never spoken. And the rise, the tension, the ire towards her, was back in full force. "It's pitiful. You would have died there with that dumb look on your face and for absolutely nothing." She shied away from him and his harsh words, but was forced to accept them nonetheless. "Perhaps it's my fault. Perhaps I've coddled you into a false sense of security about this place. Made you_ feel _safe with my wards and my watchful eye. But this is not like before. This is not some staged play for you to prance around in aimlessly while I do nothing but bear the nightmares and the horror before it has the chance to reach you. So do you finally believe me? Do you finally believe that I really_ did_ protect you all those years ago? That I did _everything_ in _my power_ to allow a spoiled little girl to trample over my kingdom only to have it all thrown back in my face?" He was far from yelling but he did not need to. His grip on her hands tightened and had her squirming as contrary tears formed in her eyes. She _was_ being _stupid_ by letting him get to her like this. But she couldn't help it. She was too vulnerable right now. And his heat, the feel of his chest pressed against her back -it was comforting and it made no sense at all. "You've made a habit out of making me repeat myself. -You are ignorant but you are_ not_ a child. I should not have to watch over you every waking second like a child. I have trusted you, implicitly. I have trusted you not to make_ stupid, careless, childish_ decisions. Perhaps that faith was unfounded. Perhaps you really are hapless."

"Wha-? Jareth-"

"From now on you are prohibited from leaving this castle without my direct supervision. You are not to take one single step outside of these walls -indefinitely."

Indefinitely? Caught of guard by the sudden change in discussion, this time Sarah did muster the courage to turn and glance back at him. Unsurprisingly, his stare on her was stone, fierce, and firmly resolved.

"What? You're grounding me?" she asked, with a sense of obstination that he prayed, for her own sake, she would not express any further.

"Yes. If you insist on acting like a child then I will punish you like one. You'll be lucky if I even let you leave this room." He watched her eyes widen with shock.

"Jareth that's-"

"That's what?" he dared her, his voice a clipped bark. She shut her open mouth and his eyes narrowed on hers. "Go on, say it."

Sarah's eyes fluttered and she licked her lips as her confidence broke. She glared away from him, swallowing hard as she tried her very best to hide in her pillow. She drew her knees into herself subconsciously, though her hands only held his closer to her chest.

"You...you said you weren't mad…" she mumbled.

"I wasn't."

It still hurt to move, but she didn't care. It felt like nothing in comparison to the shame his berratement was forcing upon her. She was confused. He'd been so loving towards her as he held her on the floor. So uncharacteristically vulnerable. Was he trying to compensate? Or was he fully justified? Was she really no better than a bumbling idiot?

"I-I'm sorry," she stammered, not knowing what else to say.

"You keep saying that. Is it supposed to mean something different?"

"No. I just…" And then she paused. Words failed her. She let them fall dead on the end of her tongue and she scowled as she turned her face into her pillow. He did not say anything. Did not make a sound. She let herself suffer there for a moment, and then she realized…His heart was beating even more frantically than hers.

Her eyes opened and she focused on it, on the forceful thumping that was so strong she could actually feel it against her spine. It was racing a million miles a minute and she knew...she'd been wrong. He wasn't angry with her. Even as he spoke so cruelly with the intention of making her squirm, he was not _angry_ with her. He was _afraid_. He was still afraid. He kept his fingers entwined with hers and refused to let them go, refused her the slightest reprieve as their bodies pressed in full alignment against one another. Like she would slip away. Like he would lose her if he let her go.

He was lashing out. He was in pain. He was gripping her tightly. She saw past his cruelty. The anger was trite. It was hollow. It was broken and confused, and everything that she was feeling now. He'd stayed up all night caring for her... And while she had healed in blissful ignorance, he was still suffering. And he'd been doing so completely alone.

She squeezed his hand harder as the words fell breathlessly from her lips.

"I love you."

There was a pause. A break in the tension that had been strangling her. Did she really say it? Was it a thought? She swallowed again and waited for his response. Her fingers curled in her hold of him, leaving her painfully aware that his had gone all but limp. Then she felt the anger calm. She felt his heartbeat start to settle. He shifted, though any significance to the motion was indiscernible.

"Try that again...when you're not afraid to say it to my face."

If she did not understand him completely, she would have been shattered then and there. His voice fell with dispassion, became soft and closed-off. She felt such anguish in that moment. So heartbroken over the fact that he had every right _not_ to believe her. All this time, all the things he'd ever said and done, and the lengths he'd gone to prove himself had been unanimously unrequetted. She spent so much time fighting the instinct to love him that now, as she found herself begging for that connection, she could not for the life of her remember why she had bothered waiting so long to tell him at all. She turned around in his grasp, ignoring the pain as she angled her head back sharply. Their eyes locked, their noses touched, but the spark it may have elicited went ignored by the both of them. Their expressions mirrored one another in a sense of guarded passion.

"I_ love_ you," she repeated, staring at him with eyes unblinking, and searched deeply into his own. His brow twitched. He wasn't expecting that. Wasn't expecting the resolve he saw in such a look. Her eyes glistened, glowed green and bright with impulse, and worry, and fervor. The tears that once threatened her now retreated and left her expression rounded and quibbling. She was hanging on his next word. Bearing herself to his mercy. And yet somehow she still managed to look so proud.

The faintest of smiles curled his lips, and he achingly withdrew his hand from hers as it rose to grasp the side of her face.

There was no change in their expressions. None at all. But the admission was not in their stares.

"That's better," he said, and angled forward to kiss her. He pressed his lips to hers lightly, with a careful tenderness that ironically spurred her passion. She pressed back and tried to deepen it but he pulled away. Instead his thumb caressed her cheek and his eyes fell languidly to her mouth that now pouted with worry. He smiled again, indulging her one last time with a chaste brush of the lips. "...But you're still grounded."

She looked anxious when he pulled away from her, when he turned her back around and resituated them in their original position. He pressed his torso against hers, nuzzled his face in her hair, and found her hands with his. When they clasped, she felt differently. She relaxed against her pillow and welcomed it.

"Do...you still love me too?"

Her voice was meek, riddled with insecurity, and he smiled like the scoundrel he still was at the sound of it. He subdued the urge to tease her and instead ran his thumb along her knuckles. He huffed with amusement, with disbelief, with a sense of calm he'd never quite felt before. "Of course I love you. Above_ all else_…"

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N- Phew...damn. That was a bit of a wild ride eh? So much plot in so little time...where to even begin? ;)


	121. Chapter 26, Um...What?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N- Hello all. I'm a teeny bit late with this one. But, better late than never -and all that. Between working, and both my betas working, these last few weeks have been a little daunting. The three of us have been slowly chipping away at revisions whenever we could, so it's an honest relief to finally be posting it. As always, this chapter is stupid long, and, once again, this is only part 1 of what was meant to be 1 solid chapter. I really do think my subconscious wants me to drag this story out as long as possible... That scroll bar might look intimidating, but this chap is VERY dialogue heavy. It's also filled to the brim with entirely new exposition that I've been itching to get to for a while now. So, those of you who like a good bit of world building, this is definitely up your alley. 
> 
> For those who are interested, I've made an updated version of the 'Orpian map' which features the locations of all the places mentioned throughout the story thus far. I think that may help orient everything that the characters are talking about (in this chapter specifically). You can find it on my Deviantart page under Fangamerbowiextreme, or search for "Orpia Updated". 
> 
> Also, a lot of you already know this, but for those who don't, I am a working artist IRL. Lately my work has been very Bowie/Labyrinth heavy, so if anyone is interested in checking out my current portfolio, you can follow me on FB and Insta under 'studio DarkBloom'. I'm about to launch an Etsy shop (under the same name) which will be the hub for all print/original art sales. And I also have some merch available on Redbubble (again, under studio DarkBloom). If you'd like to support me, or are just mildly curious, please check out any of those platforms. Thanks <3
> 
> And now, without further ado...

Chapter 26, Um, What?

* * *

  
  


Cold. It was so...so cold. 

She shivered and curled into herself. Fingers gripped tightly. Toes dug in grime. She winced. Her eyes were shut. Blinded. And yet…

Dark. It was so...so dark. Never before had shade bore such depth. So far away. Everything was so far away. 

She whimpered, and the sound came as a pitiful screech between clenched teeth. So strange was this...pain. She was in pain. 

Her body trembled, her knees pressed together, and she sobbed. She sobbed and the sound…the sound was deafening. 

Alone. She was so...so alone. She’d never felt...never _ felt _... 

She bit her lip and the sound of her chilled limbs scraping against the stone tiles echoed. Why was she alone? Why did he leave? Why did she feel...this way?

A cry escaped her. A doleful sound, carried by longing, and confusion, and despair. Sounds of thunder. Sounds of rain. Sounds of brutal tempest that tore asunder everything...everything was gone. 

And she was alone. So...so alone. 

A door opened. A light revealed. She heard the sound of footsteps and they too were carried through the void. She could not move. She could not bear it. She waited, and feigned, and sighed. 

Wrought. She was overwrought. Stifled with too many detestable, incomprehensible things.

The footsteps stopped. The man hunkered down. She saw the flicker of a lit candle that he set on the floor by his side.

“Are you alright?” 

She closed her eyes. They were too heavy. Too sore. A new wave of tears fell. She could not look at him. But his voice...his voice made her want to smile.

“I am...feeling things.” Her voice cracked and she shook as a shiver shot up her spine. What was this? This sharp sensation nipping at her skin. Skin...was it really her skin?

“Yes...I know.”

“How?”

“He told me…”

“He…”she repeated, a hopeful, pitiful sound. It drifted away from her. It left. Just as he did. “_ He _ is gone,” she continued, hope replaced by bitterness. “He was the only one...who knew…” and then she paused. That was right. No one knew... “How have you found me?” she asked. Her eyes opened gradually, pleading for the light of the candle that swayed just out of reach. Warmth. Was this warmth? “How have you come to me in this...terrible place.” Her vacant eyes soothed from strain as the glow of the candle beguiled her. What a lovely color, she thought. What...what? 

“The door was open. I know the way. He told me that as well. I know this place is hallowed, and I know that I trespass. ...Will you forgive me?”

His voice was so kind. So soft and..._ warm _. She’d heard it before. She’d...heard it before…

“Forgive you?”

Achingly, she lifted her head from the floor and forced her eyes to rise to his. There was something about his voice. It made her feel...it made her _ feel. _

The gaze that met her was that of a dead man, and she recoiled as a horrible surge of recognition bound her stomach in knots. She felt ill._ Ill. _ She- she felt-

Her breath hitched in her throat, and her tired eyes found her vigor as they strained wide open. She raised a hand as if to reach for him. He was there. He’d come back to her. He was there.

“Orpus? Is...is it really you?” 

There was such desperation in her voice. Such pain. The eyes that she’d once regarded so well now softened, and his brow turned down in a frown. Why was he looking at her like that? This ghost. This...ghost.

“Forgive me Alvra. Orpus is dead. I am not he.” 

The hope that might have ignited in her beseech fell dead, along with the terrible pang in her chest. Disillusionment. Shock. She...she did not know. Her chest heaved and she looked away. Averted her eyes from the confusion and the torment and the-

“You are not...no. No, of course not,” she started, her eyes darting quickly as she regained knowledge that should not have been cast so far away. She didn’t understand. Didn’t understand what was happening to her. Why he would do this... “Orpus is...gone,” she said, forcing a sense of resolve as she nodded at the floor. “He is gone and you are_ Exelion _.”

“Yes.”

She shifted in the dirt, attempting to rise and face him. She did not know why she kept her head turned away from him as she did so.

“I’ve not seen your face, and yet I know it. He did not tell me...you were the same.”

“We are not the same.” 

She managed to bear weight on her hands pressed to the floor, and finally brought her gaze to him. His image was shadowed. Incomplete. And even still, his eyes were soft as he gazed at her. The resemblance was perfect.

“No…”

“You are suffering,” he said, tilting his head as he frowned. She looked away again. These words. She knew these words and yet no longer understood them. She felt them instead. She felt...

“Suffering? Is that...what this is?”

A hand raised to her chest as if there were a literal pain there. A knitted brow joined Exelion’s frown as he fought the urge to reach out to her.

“I’m sorry. When my brother told me of his plans, I did not realize…” 

“That it would hurt so badly?” She cut him short and looked up once more. Their gazes locked and bore deeply into one another. For a split second, he was a little taken back. He didn’t realize how beautiful she would be. “What does it mean to hurt? Will you tell me? Will you tell me of this feeling?” Her sweet face broke into a grimace and she sobbed. “I don’t...I don’t understand. Everything is wrong. I am corrupted. I am broken. Orpus is gone and I am...so alone.”

“Alone? No...forgive me, Alvra, but you are wrong.” This time Exelion did reach for her. The tip of a finger brushed her chin and she allowed it. There was warmth there. Tenderness. But he was not Orpus. She gave in to the subtle tug and lifted her eyes to his once more. “My brother is dead, but he is not gone. And you are far from alone.” She felt something odd in reaction to the change in his expression. It too was warm. Kind. She...she wanted more. “He is with you even now. Do you not feel him?”

“What?”

Her eyes veered down sharply when his hand retracted and left her. And now her chin was cold. And now she felt alone once more. Why...why in the world would she want to be touched? 

“He told me of his intentions...when he told me farewell,” he explained, his own gaze falling to the floor briefly as if the memory stung. She observed him carefully. “The pain in your chest...the cold air on your feet...the warmth of this candle… Do you really not feel him?” She sat up a little further and glanced around the darkness. She didn’t understand. She was too disoriented to understand. It was like being reborn. Like she was helpless. Like she’d forgotten everything. “These things...that keep you here, fetal on the floor. The thing that causes your tears to run as rivers, and your cries to clash as thunder. It is called grief, Alvra. It is called loss, and longing. It is love, and despair.”

“Love...and despair?” More words. More words she could no longer define. But she remembered them. She remembered the way Orpus had spoken of them. Was this...what he wanted?

“Do you not feel it?” Exelion asked, calling back her attention. She noticed another change in him. An uplift in his voice. “It is_ emotion _ . Mortal emotion. That is the gift he has given you. It is _ him _ and, so long as you _ feel, _he will always be with you.” She blinked and once more curled a hand to her chest. She focused. Focused on regaining the understanding she had never anticipated to lose. Had she been daft? Ignorant? Why did these new words make so much sense to her? Feel him? This painful contortion. This heavy thump. Over. And over. And over. Yes...yes, she felt him… “Do you understand now? Can you not feel him lying by your side?” As if choosing that very moment to make itself known, there was a deep resonance throughout the space. She turned and looked down, to the tiny saucer she had once been cradling. The tremor came again. It came rhythmically. And then she remembered. She understood... 

“Yes…” she started, her voice tapering as the tip of a finger began to gently trace the rim of the bowl. It was black. It’s surface was rippling. It was so, so precious… “This is...his gift to me. What he called_ love _.”

Exelion sat patiently as he regarded her. Her tears had ceased. Her body no longer trembled. She looked like she had finally come back to herself. She looked peaceful.

“Yes.”

“I did not know...how badly he hurt. I cannot comprehend his pain.” 

Her expression twisted with discomfort and she tore her attention away. Why would he do this? Why would he want her to have such suffering? How had she not known...that this weight bore in his heart?

“Pain? That is not pain, Alvra.” She looked up again, quickly, and with intrigue. Exelion shifted on the floor and leaned in towards her. If he did not know better, he would have thought her an ordinary woman. A shattered lover suffering the loss of her mate. And yet, she was neither of those things. His brother really had been foolish. “Look beneath it. Feel beneath it. There is warmth there beside the cold.”

“Warmth?” She knew that word. She_ felt _ it. It felt nice. Comforting. And even more wretched for it. “This thing...this thing inside of me...it pulses and it hurts. I cannot stop these tears-” she stammered, falling into a fit of wet sobs all over again. She started shaking her head, and pushed herself away from the saucer. She did not want this. She’d never _ wanted _ anything.

“That’s how you know it is true. How you know it is real.”

“I don’t...understand.”

“I know.” There was something so lovely about his voice. The mere sound of it. Because it was Orpus’s. Because they were the same. She’d never...never before regarded any sound in such a way. “He was selfish in that regard,” Exelion continued. “I am sorry...that you have been left to mourn in this place for so long.” 

“Mourn?”

“Yes.”

Mourn. Another of Orpus’s words. He’d told her...he’d told her not to mourn. To never mourn. That it would be hard. That it would be unbearable. That it was too worthwhile to cry for.

But there was nothing worthwhile. There was only pain and darkness.

She did not know how to do as he’d asked. Did not know how to endure his dying wish. But no...no he was not dead. He was with her. This pain was proof of that. 

“And you...do you mourn as well?” 

“I do.”

There was a peacefulness that lulled his voice as he spoke, as he watched and comforted her so selflessly. She’d never known such a thing. No. No, she’d never been able to _ understand _ such a thing.

“So you understand as I am….you suffer as well.” 

“To live is to suffer,” he said, and she flinched as if caught off guard. “It is both pain and pleasure. It is harmony attained through discord. The point where your love and your despair converge. Do you not recognize it? It is_ you. _ Within you is where you will find him. That is where you will live.”

“Live?”

She sounded so timid. So confused. So afraid. Was this how his brother had always imagined her? With eyes so large and becoming? What selflessness indeed, to grant them to her with his dying breath. 

“He wanted you to understand what it means to be alive,” he said. Her eyes kept darting. Flighty. Like she was fighting so hard to find herself in this void. He felt sorrow for her. Sympathy. Guilty that it had taken him this long to muster the courage to come for her. “He wanted you to know how wonderful it is to love someone and to be loved. But it is not without agony. In fact, it _ is _ agony. It is a torment of choice. Whether we choose it, or it chooses us. There is beauty in that.” She flinched at the feeling of his hands taking hold of hers, and recoiled weakly. He raised their hands between them and begged for her attention. She peered over, nervously it would seem, and clenched her jaw tightly. He was staring at her so directly. It made...it made her _ heart _ flutter. “Find him as I have. Settle now, and rejoice in it.” His hands squeezed hers and she felt careful thumbs caressing her palms. The warmth was back. The connection. The...beauty. Exelion watched her for a long moment as deliberation played openly and arduously across her face. She was squeezing his hands in return. Her breath was quickening. She was glancing off to the side and then -and then he saw a glimmer there. “Do you see?”

A lump formed in her throat and she pulled away from his grasp. She felt...heavier. No longer adrift in darkness. The ground was beneath her but that suddenly meant something more. She felt the pain in her chest and the thump through the floor. She felt him with her. She felt him there...steadying her. Yes...she could see again. 

“Why...do you help me? Why have you come?” she asked as a new sensation crept in. It crawled. Made her ill again. It was...shame? 

“I’ve come at the behest of the Favra,” he said, which caught her interest. When her eyes darted over, he was relieved to see a bit more composure in them. “Your grief...has brought disharmony to the land. A terrible storm rages outside these walls. The kings have been slain. People...everything...is dying. I’ve come to beseech you, Great Alvra. I ask for your guidance...to help us end this boundless night.”

She blinked at him in a moment of_ surprise. _

“My guidance?” she repeated, and drew back with trace suspicion. “Do you not wish to shackle me as your brother once did?”

She felt _ uncomfortable _ when Exelion frowned once more. He looked... _ disappointed _. How did she know that? 

“It was his wish to grant you freedom,” he said, a bit sullenly. “It was his wish that we fend for ourselves. I shan’t dishonor him by trapping you. And neither would I dishonor you. Ever.”

She stared at him. Lowered her eyes over him. And then she felt something she’d never experienced before. Sincerity. She could sense his sincerity. She could...read his heart.

“But I am not free,” she said, and shook her head. “I fear I am bound now more than ever by the constraint of this heart.” And she pointed detestfully at the saucer. If she had known...if she had known what his gift really meant, she never would have allowed it. She never would have realized... “I am now neither mortal nor spirit, and I am tied to this darkness by the tortures of both. But-but yes, you are right…” and her voice trailed off. Lulled from passion, from anger. She swallowed and composed herself. “It...it is indeed a torment of choice. His choice...and now mine.” And this time, the_ torment _ was able to be subdued. Its hold over her was no longer so encompassing. She gulped again, and stared down into the depths of the saucer intently as she reached out and took hold of its rim with both hands. “There is...harmony here. Yes...I see that now.” He watched her fingers curl in what he thought was frustration. Yet, when he looked back up to her face, he saw she was smiling. “I am... _ grateful _ to have this despair. I am happy because he is happy. Because it is him.” She released the saucer and straightened. She sat taller, nude and yet regal, and he humbled under the power exuded from such a sudden transition. No, she was not mortal. She was something far, far greater. “Thank you. I believe...I am beginning to understand.” She bowed her head to him, and he grinned. He could not help it. The Alvra herself was deferring to him. How blasphemous. 

“Good. I am glad.” 

She tilted her head at him, curious of the way he had averted his gaze from her.

“You wish...to carry on his work?”

Exelion arched a brow and peered over, but not directly at her. She wondered why he had become so uncomfortable. 

“I do,” he said, and then corrected - _ “We _ do. The church, that is. We fear...my brother’s faith in our people has fallen premature. That...his actions with you were not entirely objective, and all your work shall be undone because of it. He may have been ready to leave us, but...we are not ready for a world without your parentage. There is no peace. We are not ready…”

A great warmth bloomed deep within her that she struggled to comprehend. She felt a pull towards him. A pull that desired to become tangible. It was not of her. No. It was him...

“He loves you,” she said, and watched as Exelion’s downward cast head slowly lifted back to her. She brought a hand to her chest again. But this time, it was a tender gesture. “This feeling. It calls to me. I feel his love for you. His respect...his trust...I feel it because it is mine.” And suddenly she smiled. It was small. It was fleeting. But it was lively, and she nearly gasped because of it. She knew...she knew what he had been trying to convey. She knew how to find him. “Do not despair, sweet Exelion,” she said and, to his great surprise, reached out and took hold of the sides of his face. “Do not make such a sad face. He would never see you in such a way. I shall do as I have done-” and she pulled away. He watched her, in mild wonder, as she pulled the saucer to sit in the space between them. Her hands rose and began to draw circles in the air just over its surface. Exelion observed in silence. The ripples in the saucer, in the thick black liquid pooled within, began to change. They began to slow. To pulse. Like a heartbeat. 

“You have given me a great gift, Exelion. Perhaps one just as great as Orpus. In gratitude, I will bind myself to the son of Daemar once more. You have the same face...the same blood. The same heart. You are the same.”

He watched as the gold of the saucer began to glow and a small spark of fire ignited the blood within. He sat back from it, then shook his head in alarm.

“We are not. I am not as strong as Orpus,” he said, wanting, and yet unable to bring himself, to say that he was unworthy. That he could not do as he had done... “I do not know if I am capable-”

“No, but you are wise. You are true,” she interjected, and paused as she looked up and into his eyes. There was peace there. Understanding. She felt none of the reservation he did. “You have consoled me, and now I can see. For that, I am indebted.” Her hand resumed its ministration, making strange gestures in the air which sprang forth a root from the murky depths. It grew and grew, fanned, and entwined with her hands. It glowed. It pulsed. She offered out a hand to him. “I cannot be alone in this darkness. This heart will not bear it. Teach me how to tame this wicked thing, continue to soothe me, and I will teach you to do as he did. I will teach you to tame all.”

Exelion gulped. He was not expecting this. He was not ready. He would never be ready. His brother was the one who sought greatness. It was his brother who was wise. They may have the same face, but he was cowardly. He was not strong. He was not ambitious. 

And yet she had chosen him. She had offered him her hand. It was impossible to refuse.

Tentatively, he reached out and clasped both her hands with his own. The roots caught flame and grew around him. And then, as they began to bore into his skin, a bud sprouted from the space between their hands. “Bound by blood, I give you as I have been given. I give you faith. A heart. A soul. I willingly bind myself to you...Your blood is now mine, and I am yours.”

He winced as the roots pierced what he believed to be both his literal and figurative heart. He grew hot. His blood boiled. He did not know what would happen next. This magic was ill-defined, and he did not know what it meant. Was this how his brother had felt? How he’d felt when he first took her in chains...

“Alvra…”

“No...not Alvra.” And she shook her head as the light of the roots dimmed and retreated back to whence they came. Her eyes had been lowered, and now they fluttered. She smiled, embracing this feeling of contentment. Of harmony through discord. Orpus was gone. He was gone and he was with her, forever more. She did not know what would happen. Perhaps this heart had made her a fool once more, but it did not matter. Loneliness was death. To be left in this darkness was death. But to be together...was to live. To suffer was to live. And she did suffer, she would always suffer. Because they shared the same face. The same voice. And, she imagined, the same gentle touch. “Please...call me as he did,” she said, and stared up at him with a sweet, lovely smile. “Call me Liana.” 

* * *

An eon or so later…

  
  


Sarah stared down at her hand, clicking her tongue in thought. A glare creased her face, a look of fierce concentration, as she fiddled a pair of tiles between her fingers. 

“...Is kerfuffle a real word? I feel like it is.” 

She had too many F’s. If she didn’t score big now, she’d lose. Again.

“I believe so, yes.” 

Mariella tilted her head with sympathy. It’d been quite a while since Sarah had won a round. ...Maybe she should suggest they play something else. Sarah reached over the table and began to align her tiles, then growled in frustration.

“Ugh. Damn. I’m missing an E.” She pushed back in her seat and dropped her jaw to her hand. This was frustrating. Why the hell was she so bad at Scrabble? “I got nothin’,” she said and threw up her arms in defeat. “You win. Again.” Mariella frowned but did not respond right away. She wanted to inform Sarah that there were at least three other words she could make with her current tiles, but knew that would only sting her pride -and that was something to be avoided. She’d been...very testy lately. 

“Would you like to play something else? Or...maybe go for a swim?” That had been their go-to activity for the last couple of days. It was one of the only things to do on a floor Sarah was still allowed on... 

Sarah stewed in her seat and placed a haphazard hand over her stomach. She was feeling a little off. Maybe she was hungry.

“I don’t know...I’m feeling kind of bloated today, actually. Maybe I’m getting my period.” Which would explain why she couldn’t keep it together for a game of fucking Scrabble. God. She wanted to throw something through a wall. Maybe she was just going stir crazy.

Three days. That’s all it’d been. Three days on castle lock-down, and already Sarah was starting to lose it. She didn’t know why. It wasn’t like being confined to the castle was a new concept for her, but, once again, she’d taken things like grass and company for granted. Thankfully, Jareth had in fact permitted her to leave her room -as if she would have sat prettily even if he hadn’t. She was, however, forbidden to go anywhere other than her current floor. Which, of course, boasted little more in the realm of excitement than the damn pool. She could not go outside. Not even on a goddamn balcony. She’d almost asked if he planned on barring her windows too, but wisely refrained. From his expression during that particular conversation, she knew he very well might and she would_ not _ be the one to give him the idea first. She was also not allowed contact with any of her friends -aside from Marie- which Sarah thought was just plain tyrannical. Her objections did little to persuade Jareth, however. If anything, it only made him more resolved. He was trying to _ punish _ her after all. ...At least he hadn’t done something worse. Done something _ to her _.

And so here she was. Three days later, playing through the same board and card games they’d played over a dozen times now. She sighed and tapped her fingers impatiently against the table top. Marie was frowning at her -and Sarah did not need to look up to know it. 

“I see…” Marie mumbled. She sounded anxious. Sarah paused and checked herself. Hm, maybe she should dial back the drama…

_ *Knock* *Knock* _

Both ladies looked over to the door. Sarah leaned up off her hand and tilted her head. Well that was new.

“Um, come in? 

Sarah’s brow drew with suspicion as she waited for whomever it was to open the door. They hadn’t ordered lunch yet, and she couldn’t think of any other reason why someone would be knocking on her door.

It was a goblin. A courier Sarah had come to know as Creak. He gripped the edge of the door as he stepped around it, keeping his head somewhat lowered on instinct. 

“Good day, Your Majesty-”

“Creak? What can I do for you?”

The little goblin, only standing to about Sarah’s knee, entered the room and released the door. He removed his cap and clasped it out in front of him with both hands as he lowered his head. 

“I come to tell you...that Sir Didymus is awake. He is recovering well.”

Sarah’s eyes widened and she stood from her chair. She moved around the table, and Marie soon followed.

“What? Really? That’s great!” 

She’d been worried when Jareth had said it may take a few days for Didymus to come out of paralysis -even though he’d assured her _ repeatedly _ that he would be fine. She was even more worried over the reality that he would have to suffer the full brunt of the Herdsman’s venom. Though again, Jareth had told her he’d been rendered unconscious well before the pain could become too severe. Sarah wasn’t sure to believe him. For one, such knowledge implied Jareth had been keeping tabs on Didymus’s condition and that just didn’t sound like him. And second, she was just too damned worried to allow any degree of relief to rationalize her brain. In the end, she could do nothing else but take his word for it. She was grounded, and the goblin infirmary was all the way down on the fifth floor…

“Goodness, it’s about time! That is such good news.” Sarah turned to cross gleeful smiles with Mariella, who was clasping her hands together fervently. 

“Yeah, let’s-” and then she paused. On a dime. With one foot hanging in the air. And the excitement fell from her face. She scowled a little, looking down at Creak. “Do you think...Jareth will let me see him?” She turned back to Marie as she’d spoken, her mouth falling into a frown that Marie was soon to mirror.

“Erherm…”

Sarah glanced back at Creak, who was awkwardly clearing his throat. He was still getting used to being acknowledged, though she knew he’d appreciate it in the long run.

“Majesty...I’ve also come to let you know...that you may now visit with him. If you wish.” 

And just like that, the excitement was back. She barely even gave herself the chance to register the fact that this confirmed Jareth had indeed been checking up on him and was now bending his own rules to grant her some comfort. She’d thank him later...probably. 

For now, she bustled past Creak as he held the door open for the two of them and, without any other thought, headed straight for the infirmary. 

The door to the goblin infirmary opened on its own, which was good because it was so tall and heavy that Sarah knew neither she nor Marie had any hope in opening it by themselves. It was a large space. A hall, with beds lined on each wall with privacy curtains drawn in between. She had no idea where she was going. Actually, aside from Jareth showing it to her _ once _during their initial tour, she’d never even been here. Mariella followed closely behind and looked around with the same sense of intrigue as her. 

There were not many goblins being treated within the castle, which she supposed was a good thing. This made it easy for her to spot him. Well, not him, but someone else whom she was equally worried over. 

They saw Baldur standing at the end of a bed about halfway down the room. Sarah’s smile renewed itself and a little skip caught in her step.

“Baldur!” she called out, waving around like an idiot as she approached. Baldur turned and his long wispy brows rose high. He stepped back and bowed to her deftly as they came to stand before him. Sarah’s eyes darted to the bed. Didymus was there. It looked like he was asleep.

“Your Majesty. Thank the gods, you are well. I am so happy to see you,” he said and, in truth, sounded quite shaken. Sarah felt the tug of a frown and pulled back some of her passion. He looked worried. His bow to her was very, very low.

“So am I. I was so relieved when I heard you made it back okay.” She noticed the way his hands clenched on his thighs as he bowed, refusing to straighten.

“I was sure you would perish...Forgive me, My Lady. I failed you-”

“No. No you didn’t-” Sarah dropped to her knees and reached out for his shoulders, urging him to look up at her. He did, but it was begrudged. “You did everything you should have done. It was my stupidity that got me hurt.”

“Please, never say such things, Your Majesty. You are my charge. I should have been able to see you safely back. If it weren’t for His Majesty…”

“Yes. Yes I know,” she said, gripping him tighter until he was forced to look her in the eye. He was wincing. She was smiling. 

“But the fact is, Jareth did show up. I was saved. I am fine. And I don’t want you beating yourself up over it. Okay?” Baldur eyed her skeptically, then sighed.

“I...will try. My Lady.”

“Sarah.”

“Yes...I will try, Sarah.” 

Feeling like that was good enough, Sarah turned her attention away from Baldur and looked over at the bed she was crouched at.

“Didymus...I was told he’s awake. Did he fall back asleep? How is he?” she asked, standing to her feet and then staring down at the worn little fox who looked to still be very much comatosed. Mariella had already moved to his bedside. Their gazes crossed with residual worry. 

“He was. He’s been drifting in and out a bit. He’s doing well, by all accounts.” Nodding, though with a frown, Sarah moved to stand on the other side of the bed. There was a chair there, which she pulled up and seated herself in. He looked so small. So frail. She never realized how tiny his hands were. 

Her frown deepened as she stared at him. And then his lip twitched. He sniffed, and his lip curled to reveal several sharp little canines. His eyes fluttered open and his glazed eyes rolled over to her.

“Ah...My Lady…” he said, so soft-spoken and fatigued. Sarah’s frown fell as low as it could, and now she felt the sudden urge to cry. 

“Didymus...how are you?” There was a tiny waver in her voice. Just a hint. She leaned over and pet the fur at the top of his head. He exhaled slowly and savoured the feel of it. 

“Right as rain. As always,” he said, and she laughed at the charismatic bounce that just could not be snuffed from his voice. Marielle grinned, too, and leaned forward to smooth the wrinkles from the bed.

“I am so relieved. When I heard what had happened I nearly fainted. We’ve been so worried for you.” 

Didymus turned and looked at Mariella. He tried to raise his arm in some gesture but it failed, and he lowered it back to the bed.

“Worried? Come now. T’was only a small thing. A flesh wound. It will take far more to slay a seasoned knight, such as myself.”

“Of course,” Sarah said, giving him such a heartfelt smile as she trailed a finger down his ear and back to her side. She was so relieved. So ungodly relieved it was like she hadn’t fully comprehended just how afraid she’d been. “Were you in a lot of pain?” she asked. Didymus brought his attention back to her.

“Fret not. Pain is but another foe. One I will conquer time and again. I would suffer all the world for you.”

And then a heat bloomed in her eyes. Sarah’s lip quivered and she threw herself at him.

“Goddamn it, Didymus.” She clamped her arms around him and cried. She was not expecting to be this emotional, not that it mattered. She was just so happy he was okay. She felt one of his hands patting her arm and realized how sore he must be. “Oh. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Did that hurt?” she asked, pulling away and inspecting him for signs of strain. He shifted in his spot but gave no other tells.

“I am a bit sore, I admit. But nothing I can’t handle. I assure you. I am only glad that you were able to make your escape. And- oh- Captain, is that you I see?” Didymus peered down the length of the bed at Baldur, who was only staring back, worriedly.

“Yes. I’ve been here for some time actually. Do you not remember speaking with me when you first woke?”

Didymus blinked and then shook his head.

“Why no...no, I don’t. Forgive me, Captain. Did we discuss anything important?” 

Both Sarah and Marie had turned their attention to Baldur as well, though none of them were expecting his look of concern to worsen. 

“I explained to you the events that followed the moment you were poisoned. What happened to Sarah.”

Sarah turned away from Baldur and back to Didymus. He was just staring, his eyes wide and then narrowing, as the memory came back.

“Wha...oh. Oh. Good gods. Sarah are you alright?!” 

With an energy he could not yet maintain, Didymus turned towards her and nearly lunged. He winced, and Sarah immediately settled him back to the bed. That one movement had caused his breath to labour. Sarah frowned all over again. 

“Yes. Yes, I’m fine. Perfectly fine. Jareth’s wards protected me, all of us actually, and then he came and saved me.”

“But-but the Captain said you were poisoned?!” 

Sarah gentled him with a hand at his shoulder and he reluctantly listened. He gruffed, and relaxed into the bed. Mariella was staring down at him with a deep frown. 

“Yeah….I was. But it’s fine. Jareth healed me. See? Totally fine.” She held up her hands as if that would be proof enough and, it seemed, it was. Sir Didymus eyed her intently for a long moment and then let go his remaining fervor. 

“Wards...you said his wards protected us all?” he asked, changing directions and catching Sarah off guard. She drew her brow and gave him a curious look.

“Yeah. I don’t see what else it could have been. The spell broke when I touched the two of you. And, while I was holding onto you, you both were shielded from its attacks.”

She glanced up at Mariella as if needing her to confirm this as fact, but she was only staring back in ignorance. Right. Mariella wouldn’t know anything about this… 

Sir Didymus cocked his head to one side as he pondered.

“Interesting...indeed it must be so. And yet...I’ve never heard of such a thing. Have you, Captain?” 

Sarah, now confused, looked back to Baldur as well.

“No. I found it very curious myself. His Majesty’s magic must be very potent indeed.”

“Huh? You’re saying it’s odd that I was protected?”

“No. I’m saying it’s odd that we were protected in addition to you. His Majesty’s charms are linked directly to you. I’ve never heard of a protection spell by proxy. Especially one that has the power to break enchantments.”

Sarah’s brow furrowed tightly as she digested his words. Jareth had been teaching her magic theory, yes, but she was still learning, and this wasn’t something they’d covered yet. But, now that she thought about it, maybe it was odd that the ring on her finger had broken them from the spell…

“But...what else could it have been?” she asked, not having the faintest clue. “I just assumed...because the ring is touching my finger, that it would by extension be touching you so long as I held onto you,” she explained. Mariella hummed with contemplation but said nothing. Baldur pursed his lips and tapped them with a finger. 

“I...suppose that must be the case then. I must admit, my knowledge of magic is limited, and His Majesty is a renowned spell-crafter. He must have altered a traditional ward into something more powerful.”

“A true visionary, indeed,” Mariella said -if for no other reason than to get a word in. Sarah peered across the bed, frown in tow.

“Yeah, I guess…” That kind of made sense. But, Sarah was still feeling a little suspicious, and not quite sure why. Everyone always said Jareth was _ so powerful _ and _ so smart _, and yes, he was. She even acknowledged she did not yet fully comprehend the degree of his strength and intelligence when it came to magic. And yet...something was gnawing at her. Something...was not quite right. 

Didymus, uncomfortably shifting on the bed, pulled Sarah from her dark contemplation, and she instinctively reached out for him.

“Are you okay? Do you want something to drink maybe?”

“That would be much appreciated, My Lady,” he said, sighing, and closed his eyes as the subtle pain left him. Sarah turned towards the end table beside her and poured him a cup of water from the pitcher that sat atop it. “You are most generous.”

“Careful Didymus. If anyone sees you getting special treatment from The Queen, you could find yourself with an even worse punishment.”

“Worse?” Sarah asked, turning back with a sharp eye. Baldur paused. 

“It would be well worth it. Undoubtedly,” Didymus replied, not feeling any of the alarm Sarah now was. She turned back to Didymus to find him looking positively zen.

“What do you mean punishment? Why would you be punished?” Her eyes flickered up to Marie, briefly, and the look she was met with was one of pity. What? Didymus finished his drink and held it over his chest as he turned and looked at Sarah.

“I failed to protect you. I failed to carry out my one sworn duty, and you were gravely injured because of it-”

“So that means you have to be punished? You threw your life on the line and have been in a coma for three days. Haven’t you been punished enough?” There was a bit of a rise in Sarah’s voice, though Didymus was oblivious to it. His eyes rolled away and he shrugged.

“Honestly, it would have been better if I_ had _died. There is honor in that.”

Sarah blinked. Repeatedly.

“You wanna try saying that again?” she asked, with anger. She stared at him, beside herself that he could say something like that with such nonchalance. That he could be so accepting of that reality. And then she realized, that was exactly what it was. Reality. His reality. It was the code he’d pledged himself to and had lived by long before he’d ever met her. Smothering her offense, Sarah shook her head and exhaled roughly through her nose. “No. No, you did everything right. You both did-”

“It doesn’t matter.” Sarah glared over at Baldur, who’d interrupted her. “It doesn’t matter because you were still harmed. It was His Majesty who was forced to save_ us _. Who did as we should have done. It is within his full right to punish us for bringing such disgrace.” Sarah caught Didymus nodding in agreement out of the corner of her eye, and she frowned. Why was she the only one bothered by this? 

“What kind of punishment, exactly?”

She eyed Baldur intently as he glanced to the side. He stiffened a little. Sarah felt an almost forgotten chill run down her spine.

“...I’m not sure,” he said, after a moment’s contemplation. “I have heard no word on the matter, but that does not mean it will not come. He may start by removing us from your Guard. Possibly even revoke our knighthoods-”

“What? Are you serious?” Sarah did not even let him finish his sentence before feeling a compulsive call to arms. She drew back in her seat and looked between the two goblins. “No. There’s no way I’ll let that happen.”

“Sarah…”

“No. I don’t care,” she snapped and looked at Marie -who’d spoken her name in an obvious attempt to handle her. Not wanting to acknowledge the very particular kind of frown the nymph was giving her, Sarah instead forced her attention back to Didymus. “You both risked your lives to protect me. Didymus, you charged that thing fully willing to die then and there. I got poisoned just as you did, so I know some of the pain you just went through. If you really have to be punished then what you’ve been going through these last few days is more than enough. Taking away your knighthood is out of the question.”

“Please, Sarah, do not worry on my account. I have disgraced myself as a knight, and I will fully accept His Majesty’s ruling no matter what it is. Even if that means no longer being one.” His look on her was humble. Complacent even. And she realized, for the first time during the course of their conversation, that there was also real shame lurking there. A shadow in his eyes that she’d written off as fatigue. He’d failed her. But, even more than that, he’d failed himself.

Sarah felt the fire leave her as she eased back in her chair. Marie’s frown deepened and she leaned a little over the bed.

“-And, honestly Sarah, that would be the most merciful of punishments His Majesty could bestow. Please. Do tread the matter carefully. Baldur is right. Such things are fully within his authority.” 

Sarah scowled as Marie’s words wormed their way through her brain. She knew she was right. She knew she was getting ahead of herself. Going in guns blazing would only condemn them, and she’d learned quite some time ago what happened when she preemptively cast him as a villain. She just couldn’t help it. The idea of punishments sent her reeling on an instinctive level, and she was just so irritable today. But not all hope was lost. Baldur had just said Jareth had yet to make a formal decree. He may still be a little cross with her, but maybe she could make a plea on their behalf.

“Fine. Fine,” she said, shaking her head and raising her hands as if shooing away her annoying hormonal annoyance. “I’ll talk to him then. I’ll try to get him to go easy on you. But I swear to you now, if he tries to physically harm you I will_ not _stand for it.”

“We are in your debt, Your Majesty.” Didymus bowed his head and so did Baldur, and Marie stifled a secret sigh of relief. It was downright stressful trying to navigate Sarah’s mood these last few days. She really, really hoped this new issue wouldn’t spark things with His Majesty…

Sarah stared with hard eyes as Didymus turned away and closed his own. He looked tired. Like he was drifting off again.

“Are you alright, Didymus?” she asked. Didymus inhaled and exhaled deeply.

“Yes...I’m simply feeling a bit sleepy, is all. Do not mind me.”

“No, no you need your rest. We’ll go so you can nap,” she said, and stood from her chair. “I’ll send word to Ludo and Hoggle. I haven’t been able to see them, but I’m sure they’ve been worried sick. I’ll have them come visit you later.” And she leaned down to plant a soft kiss at the top of his head. His ears twitched and he grinned. Special treatment indeed.

“Thank you, My Lady...” She could hear his consciousness fading along with his words, and took the empty cup from his hands and set it back on the table. Then she looked at Baldur. 

“And you, Baldur?” 

“I should report back to the garrison. They’ve been awaiting word of his recovery as well,” he said, and stood to attention as he bowed. Mariella moved around the bed to join Sarah at her side. 

“Find Hoggle and Ludo too, would you?” Sarah asked. He nodded.

“Of course.”

“Thank you.”

“No thanks necessary, Majesty,” he said and, with one more bow, turned and walked away. Sarah stared after him for a moment. He seemed tense. Maybe he was worried about his fate after all. Or, more likely, he was worried about hers once she stood up for them. She felt herself space out for just a moment before being tugged at the elbow. She blinked and looked over to Marie

“Are you finally feeling hungry, Sarah? Shall we get some lunch?” 

Blinking in confusion, Sarah glanced down to find her hand lightly pressed to her stomach. She felt off still. Maybe it was anxiety. And then her stomach rumbled.

“Yeah, actually. Let’s get going.”

  
  


* * *

  
  
  


Roldan sighed as he ran the tip of a pen down the length of a ledger._ Redundant. Redundant. Redundant. _ Yes. Everything looked to be in order. _ As usual _. He blinked slowly as his gaze clouded. This was so tedious. Gods...he was starting to wonder if he had any purpose at all.

The door to the library opened and a goblin came scuttling in. Roldan turned to greet it, _ as was the custom now _, though he realized the smile he’d tried to force must have come out as a sneer from the way the crooked thing winced and recoiled from it.

“M-master Roldan,” the creature said, bowing its head low as it held out a bound stack of letters. Roldan stared down his nose at it. Gods, this was stupid. Why in the world Sarah thought it would be better to acknowledge these things, he would never know. The damn thing was quaking in its boots. With another sigh, he reached down and accepted the parcel wordlessly. What was its name again? Rook? Crook? Something… The goblin straightened, hunched its shoulders nervously, and glanced sharply to the side. Roldan stared. It was just standing there. 

Oh. Wait. That’s right.

“...Thank you,” he said, as if someone had near-twisted his arm into doing so. Even to him, the words sounded awkward. The goblin huffed, concealing the flash of a smile on its face, before bowing deeply before him.

“You’re welcome, Master Roldan,” it said, and no sooner turned on its heel to dash away and out of the room. Roldan’s eyes lingered on the door for a moment, bored. This really was...so stupid. 

Shaking his head, he turned away and untied the letters as he paced deeper into the library. He went towards the windows, towards the spire of books that stretched endlessly-upward. He stopped in the middle of the space, glancing up briefly as he thumbed through a few envelopes.

“Jareth? Your mail is here,” he said, his voice loud but not quite a yell. There was no response. He continued to flip through the post and, after a moment, stopped abruptly and turned his head towards the ceiling. “Jareth? Can you even hear me?” he asked, in an even louder tone. The sound carried a bit, echoing up into the chasm that had no end. Again he was met with silence, and huffed as he shook his head. He took a step away, about to walk back to the desk, when a sudden scraping sound called back his attention. 

He looked up, or over rather, at the shelf ladder that stood to the side of him. And, sure enough, sliding down it with only one foot pressed to the rail like a goddamn acrobat, was Jareth.

“Hear you? It’s impossible for even the gods to ignore the sound of your nagging,” he said, releasing the rail and hopping to the floor in a fluid movement. “What do you want?” He looked up to find Roldan scowling at him. His eyes were narrowed, and Jareth got the feeling he was about to be sternly lectured.

“Must you do that _ every time _? Your damn boots are going to wear the finish off the wood,” he said, his figurative feathers thoroughly ruffled. Jareth suppressed a laugh and glanced back at the ladder.

“Good thing I have someone like you who cares for such things so passionately,” he said, his grin turning one-sided as a playful brow arched back at him. Roldan grumbled, his glare following after Jareth as he dismissed the matter and walked away.

“Did you find what you were looking for?” Roldan asked. Jareth, now with his back to him, held up a book and waved it in the air. “Another lesson for Sarah, I presume?” He followed Jareth as he made the way back to his desk and then set the book down on its surface with a thud. 

“Indeed.” Without a glance, Jareth rounded the desk and sat back in his chair. Roldan, now standing in front of the desk, gave him a rather dull look. 

“I still don’t see why you’re bothering. A human knowing the mechanics of our magic is pointless,” he said, and took a step forward as his eyes scanned the book Jareth had taken. He arched a sharp brow and ran an index finger haphazardly along its cover. “Especially...The Principles of Meta-Casting? Why in the world would she need to know anything about that?”

Jareth, feigning disinterest, pretended to scribble something as he fought off a grumble. 

“She doesn’t_ need _ to know anything. But, as they say, _ knowledge is power _...and all that,” he said, twirling a hand in the air flippantly as he searched through an assortment of papers on his desk. Roldan frowned. He just didn’t get it.

“Facilitation, at the very least, would make more sense.”

Jareth paused. There was a hint of petulance in his voice. Now, whatever could sweet Roldan be feeling bitter about this time?

“We’ve already covered facilitation. Being of the Above, she took to it rather quickly.” 

He spied on Roldan discreetly from the cover of his bangs. He was still frowning. Staring down at the book like it was something obscene. Jareth felt a tick in his jaw. 

“Do you plan on teaching her all the pillars then?” he asked. The tick came again. Only, this time, it became a grin. Jareth sat up a little and tilted his head.

“My, you’re not feeling jealous are you?”

If Roldan blanched he hid it well. There was a slight tension in his posture, but he otherwise recovered gracefully as he stood a little straighter. He withdrew his hand from the book and raised another bored brow at Jareth.

“Hardly. She’s only a_ human _ child who knows nothing and has no appreciation for such things that are considered _ sacred _ , and _ privileged _ , to only the most noble of _ our _ kind. What is there to be jealous of?” His intent was surely riddled with sarcasm but his expression was deadpan. Jareth held his stare for a moment, failing to stop the widening of his grin, and then laughed. 

“Heh. Oh, is that all? I thought maybe_ you _ wished to be the one managing her _ education. _” The impish glimmer in Jareth’s eye, which once would have had Roldan crumbling to pieces, now held zero sway and he scoffed at it accordingly. 

“Please. I’ve had my fill of such affairs, and more.” 

A little impressed with the conviction he caught in Roldan’s stare, Jareth decided to let the matter go and glanced away.

“Really? That’s too bad. We’ve managed to have quite a bit of fun during our_ lessons _. I dare say more fun than the two of you ever had. T’is a pity you aren’t more interested. I might have invited you to join.” -Okay, maybe he couldn’t let it go entirely. Roldan was just too much fun to tease. And, from the way he very visibly failed to conceal his second faltering moment, such incitement was made well worth it. His pitiful reaction had Jareth grinning with even more mischief. 

Roldan’s eyes narrowed as he very quickly recovered from the split-second flinch he pretended did not happen.

“You amuse yourself, don’t you? When you’ve finished snickering, may we get on with matters that actually matter?” He was grumbling and, in retaliation, snickering is exactly what Jareth did. A bit of fang showed in his smile as he glanced down to his paperwork in an effort to compose himself. Roldan had been a bit more straightforward about his not-quite-interest in Sarah recently. Now he simply ignored such comments rather than denied them, and Jareth found he couldn’t help but press his luck. Why he found so much joy in this very particular manner of provocation, he didn’t know. 

“Of course. Of course. Such a slave driver you are.”

Shaking his head, Roldan dismissed his comment along with the rest of his irritatingly playful demeanor. He looked down to the letters he still held in his hands and began to flip through them once more.

“Please. It’s a wonder anything gets done anymore now that you’re off_ having fun _ every waking moment of the day,” he said, disapprovingly, and tossed a couple envelopes onto the desktop between them. “Those just came for you,” he added, and tucked the remaining letters into a pocket in his jacket. Jareth did not like to be bothered with trivial matters, and Roldan knew enough from the seals alone which correspondence was considered _ important _. 

Jareth leaned back in his chair as he tore open the first envelope. 

“So...how is she, anyway?”

A moment passed before Jareth responded. Roldan was staring at him while he read, with apparent focus, whatever was written in the letter. As the seconds ticked, Roldan wondered if he would respond at all.

“Hm? Oh, she’s just fine,” Jareth said, distractedly. His tone was light. Too light. Roldan nearly scowled. “I’m surprised you’re still concerned. Did you think she had regressed from the _ last time _you asked me that?” Without breaking stride, without any apparent interest at all, Jareth placed the creased parchment he’d been reading on the desktop and reached for the second letter.

“It’s been three days since our queen was, apparently, almost killed. And no one has since seen her. It’s a bit unsettling. I fear you fail to realize just how _ chaotic _ the castle was that day. So yes, I am _ concerned _.” 

Jareth paused just as his eyes scanned the first line of the letter. There was something a bit more serious in Roldan’s tone now. Interesting. 

“If by_ no one _ , you mean _ you _, then yes I agree. I commend you for handling that situation for me so swiftly, by the way. I know how much you detest a rowdy goblin, let alone a full battalion of them.” He was looking down, tapping a finger against his lip as he resumed reading. He could feel Roldan’s stare on him. Becoming a bit bored with the game he’d started, Jareth suddenly huffed and set the paper down, and then looked up to meet Roldan in the eye. “She’s fine. Perfectly fine. Nary a bruise upon a single inch of that supple human skin. You realize you can always just go and see her, yes? She’s been restricted to her floor, not her bed,” he chided. Roldan’s eyes narrowed but Jareth did not much care. He rolled his eyes away and almost grumbled as he added, “As if even that would bar you from her...” 

“It’s inappropriate for me to call on the Queen. You know that.”

Whatever reaction Jareth was trying to goad from him, Roldan was determined not to give it. He only crossed his arms and stared down with scrutiny. Jareth could be a bit of a bastard when he was in a good mood. This was nothing new. He watched as Jareth shrugged.

“It’s inappropriate to call our couriers by name and then thank them for their service, and yet...here we are...” Jareth’s voice tapered a bit, which gained a modicum of interest from Roldan. There was a little snap as Jareth pulled apart two letters that had, apparently, been stuck together. He scanned his eyes over it with a scowl, their conversation now forgotten in an instant. “Hm...that’s curious.”

“What?”

Roldan leaned forward a bit, trying to get a look at the wax seal Jareth was still eyeing. 

“Did you see this one before?”

“No. I did not realize they had been stuck together,” he said, and his eyes narrowed as Jareth flipped the letter from side to side. He’d caught a glimpse of the seal then. The wax was near-black. A deep charcoal grey. Only one country identified by such a color. “Is that….a Shadowan seal?”

“Yes.”

Roldan paused, falling into something a bit more focused as Jareth tore open the letter. All previous playfulness fled from the room. It was quiet while he read. 

“From Bezaleel?”

Roldan’s eyes scoured Jareth’s hardened face with interest, interest which only grew when Jareth’s scowl twisted deeper and deeper. A few seconds passed before he responded.

“Who else?”

“I...can’t remember the last time we received correspondence from him.” 

Jareth’s eyes, seeming to reach the bottom of the paper, lifted back to the top and read through it all over again. 

“Indeed…”

“What does he want?”

“Hm…”

“Jareth?”

Jareth’s brow twitched. Like he’d been pulled from deep contemplation. His grip on the letter eased, and he sat back in his chair.

“He’s touring the continent,” he said, to Roldan’s utter surprise. He blinked in response. “Visiting religious sites, apparently. He’s requesting permission to pass through Fyrn.”

For some reason, Roldan presumed they both had expected something a bit more dire lurking in that ink. It was almost off-putting. It was very rare that the Shadow King would reach out to anyone in southern Orpia. Let alone for something so...frivolous. 

“Oh? Well that’s random.” Roldan glanced away with ease but not Jareth. No, Jareth only sank further into his seat as he bit on the tip of his thumb with a scowl.

“Is it?”

Roldan peered back.

“You think it's a pretense?”

Jareth’s brow arched briefly and he shrugged, shifting about in his seat to sit properly once more. He released the letter from his grasp, and sighed. 

“I don’t know. Perhaps. I imagine he’ll be wanting to pay homage to our Druid. Which just so happens to be on the castle grounds.” There was a worried air of suspicion building around Jareth. And, while Roldan understood very well why Bezaleel’s company would be enough to unnerve any sensible fae, he wasn’t quite sure why Jareth in particular looked to be so suddenly fretful. 

“It’s only proper that he would grace your hall, regardless,” he reminded, giving in to pick up the letter and read through it himself. Jareth did not stop him. “You are both kings, after all. It would be an insult for him not to greet his host -or you to greet him.”

“Hm…”

Jareth’s attention was still wayward, darkened by something conniving. Roldan paused, his brow tensing, as he tried to dissect the source of such vexation. From his understanding, the two kingdoms, and their kings, were in good standing with one another...

“Are you worried over his interest in Sarah?” Roldan asked. Jareth’s lack of response was response enough. “Was his behavior really that suspicious at the ball?”

“Suspicious?” Jareth repeated, and then blinked, snapping out of his daze as if it had never been there to begin with. He leaned back and met Roldan in the eye. “Always. Pretense or not, I can’t say I’m particularly surprised he’s waited until now to reach out.”

Yes...the two of them were now married and so Court antics began. Despite the formality of it, even Roldan was surprised Sarah had been receiving so many invitations so soon. First Davion, then Queen Delphine. And now, potentially, The Shadow King himself. It was Roldan’s opinion that she was still not nearly ready for such things. And, apparently, that was a thought shared by Jareth as well. Maybe his worry was due more credit. Roldan glanced down to quickly scan over the letter-

_ Dear Friend, _

_ Now that the moon has waned on your marriage bed, I would like to take a moment to impose upon your hospitality. My Court has deigned to embark on a scenic adventure. A spiritual journey, if you will. I ask your permission to breach the threshold of Fyrn, and pass through your great kingdom as we travel to and fro the faces of Orpia. Where you ask? Oh here, there, anywhere. All the where. They say the Alvari Temple ruins in Meyhaven are a thing of true beauty, and that the Pillars of Jeju still maintain enough glory to break your heart at first sight. I heard Faris boasting of his ‘cherry Druid’ at your engagement ball. I cannot help but wonder what in the world that is. We are such a faithful people, and yet we have never seen any of these monuments to our faith. What hypocrites! _

_ Alas, will you indulge my fancy dear friend? My caravan awaits your response. _

_ Sincerely, _

_ B- _

  
  
  


“So, what are you going to do then?” Roldan asked, tossing the paper back to the desk. “Will you deny him?”

There was a beat. A momentary silence that was heavier than it should have been. Roldan however, was not surprised. This was all simple custom, but Jareth, just like Bezaleel, often failed to bat an eye when it came to breaking from such things. 

If the subject of this discussion did not teeter on such a precarious edge, Jareth would not have been biting his tongue nearly half as hard as he currently was. Honestly, he never before gave a particular damn about Bezaleel. The man was strange, but had possessed very little relevance to him, beyond trade agreements, up until now. Up until the night of his engagement ball. Bezaleel...somehow...knew there was power within Sarah. Knew that there was a possibility of it being extracted. However much more knowledge the man held back was anyone’s guess. But, more than the knowledge itself, Jareth’s primary concern was the_ how _. How could Bezaleel sense such things? No other fae, aside from Davion, was able to pick up on Liana’s power signature. So what did that mean? And, if he did know more about what Liana was and how Sarah must fit into all of it, why did he leave them be? Why did he not seem to care?

This request was by no means random, and it had very little to do with a religious vacation, of that much Jareth was certain. He should play it safe and not allow this...he should keep Sarah locked up far, far away...

After another moment of subdued frustration, Jareth finally responded. 

“How can I?” he said, vaguely exasperated, and gestured out over the table in defeat. “As you yourself have just said, we are both kings. I can’t exactly forbid him entrance into my country. We are allies.”

Admittedly relieved, Roldan let out the tiny breath he’d been holding. A few months ago he wouldn’t have been concerned. There would have been no reason to be. But, things had been different since Sarah’s arrival. Jareth had been different. While the greater part of himself knew better, a teeny, tiny voice in the back of his mind worried that his king might very well risk offending their neighbor if it meant safeguarding the girl. Thankfully, it seemed Jareth had not yet devolved into something so foolish. Even if he was justified...

“He mentions a caravan. Are we to assume he plans to travel traditionally?” Roldan asked, clearing his head of conspiracy.

“Of course. It is a pilgrimage, after all.”

“Well, at least there’s that,” he said, and turned away. “It will be a three month journey here by lipsgate, longer if they decide to make any stops along the way.”

“True…” There was still a hint of rumination lacing Jareth’s response, leaving Roldan to wonder what exactly he was missing from the situation. Bezaleel was mysterious, yes, but he was still an Orpian King and a Goblin ally. Surely there was no reason to suspect he wished Sarah actual harm? 

As he thought over the course of their conversation, he realized that always, no matter what, it seemed the world now revolved entirely around her. 

“Which means there will be plenty of time to prepare. Well, for us to prepare. I can’t speak for your brother. Although, I _ can _already picture the look of horror that will twist his face when the illustrious Shadow King sets foot on his doorstep,” Roldan said, in an obvious effort to lighten the mood. Jareth cracked a grin. 

“_ Heh _, yes. I hadn’t thought of that,” he said, and then glanced away. Roldan was staring out the window. There was a brief silence as they shared the same memory...and then Jareth’s grin curled a little more. Davion and Bezaleel...Oh dear. How could he have forgotten? He glanced up, eyeing Roldan mischievously, and almost thanked him for the idea he’d just been given. “Say, shall we have a bit of fun ourselves?”

Roldan looked back at Jareth to find his mood successfully salvaged. He was grinning -a one-sided expression that caused a deep crease in his left cheek. That look, with all its dastardliness, flickered away from him as Jareth then reached out and pulled back the transmission crystal that stood on the corner of the desk. Realizing his intention, Roldan smiled and stifled a faint huff of laughter. Oh. Fun indeed.

Jareth placed the enclosed crystal directly before him and stared into it. He touched it with an index finger and, wordlessly, it began to glow. He’d told Sarah this was a device used to quickly mail correspondence, yes. But that was not its only function.

“Davion-” Jareth said, sternly. Nothing happened. The glow of the crystal remained unchanged. Jareth tried again. “Davion? I know you can hear me.” Again, nothing. Jareth rolled his eyes and took in a sharp breath. “Davion, remove your cock from whatever poor creature currently suffering it and answer me. Right now.” 

A second passed. Maybe two. And then the glow in the crystal faltered. It twinged, destabilizing as it reflected the sounds of shuffling. The noise was raucous, and no sooner joined by a very, very _ irritated _kind of growl.

“_ Rrrgghhh _, gods damn it Jareth. What do you want?!”

The sound of Davion’s voice, strained and breathy, resonated from the crystal for all to hear. Jareth laughed, biting his tongue as he did so. 

“You should know better than to keep me waiting,” he spoke, amusement darkening his voice. Roldan’s grin curled a little, though he remained silent. 

“I have half a mind to make you wait a little more. God… -_ fuck _. Do you have any idea how close I was?”

“Don’t worry. This won’t take long,” Jareth said, leaning back in his chair and lacing his fingers behind his head. “Perhaps if you were a better multitasker this would not be an inconvenience to you at all.”

There was more shuffling on Davion’s end, and some mumblings that could not be discerned.

“You know I’m a generous lover, Jareth. It wouldn’t do to go splitting my attentions between my lovelies and...whatever the hell it is you want. Is there a reason you couldn’t simply write me a letter?”

“I could have. Though I find the sound of your voice, in this instance, to be much more enjoyable.” Jareth spoke with a grin, one that curled as his eyes peered up at Roldan. There was silence. One anticipated by the both of them. 

“What.”

And then Jareth let out a burst of laughter. There were traces of panic in his brother’s voice. Entangled with abhorrence and suspicion. Although he remained quiet, Roldan could not help the twitching of his smirk. 

“Oh. No longer feeling snarky, are you?”

“You’re unsettling me, Jareth,” Davion said, sounding a bit flustered. “And, honestly, it’s becoming a little difficult to maintain my erection. So please, get on with it, will you?” Jareth glanced back at Roldan again with well-restrained amusement. 

“It seems Bezaleel will be making the journey south,” he said, then leaned forward to rest his hands on the desk. “He’ll be passing through Fyrn and, naturally, I’d like you to welcome him.” There was another silence. Longer this time and heavily perturbed. It took all of Jareth’s self-control not to fall into a fit of laughter. He arched a sharp brow at the crystal, imaging to perfection what his brother’s expression must now be. “Davion?”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” he suddenly exclaimed. Roldan pressed a fisted hand to his mouth and turned away as he smothered a laugh. Jareth was not so considerate. 

“Afraid not,” Jareth said.

“He’s coming here? When? Why? You want me to greet him here alone?” Davion’s voice was quickly gaining passion with each question, and the light of the crystal vibrated wildly. 

“Alone? Don’t you manage over two-hundred courtesans?”

“And I suppose you expect me to share them with him and his people as well?”

“I expect you to be hospitable,” Jareth said, crossing his arms and slouching in his seat. “You are, after all, the Crowned Prince.”

“But-but-” and then Davion groaned. “Goddamnit Jareth!” There was a clattering of sorts, more muffled voices, and the sound of a door slamming promptly shut. Jareth laughed. “Thank you. Thank you for thoroughly ruining my mood. There’s no way I’m going to finish now. I hope you realize you owe me an orgasm-”

“You’re getting a bit distracted,” Jareth interrupted, and the flickering glow of the crystal lulled. “You should be thanking me for warning you at all.”

“Warning me? When should I expect him?”

“I have no idea.” And he wove a hand in the air. “Could be tomorrow. Could be a month from now. He did not specify.”

“Are you serious? Some warning!” Davion yelled. “Gods, brother, what the hell do you expect me to do? Sit on a royal reception for the next month?”

“As if such decadence is unbecoming to you.”

“What’s unbecoming is the pain in my balls, you goddamn-” And then Roldan laughed. He could no longer help it. Jareth’s eyes flickered up to his, briefly, and his smile widened. “What was that? Are you not alone? Oh. No. Of course not. You’re there too Roldan, aren’t you?” Davion asked. Roldan paled. “Oh I bet you’re both just a barrel of laughs right now. I have half a mind to-”

“You’re trying to change the subject,” Jareth interrupted again. Davion shut his mouth. “Perhaps you should take a moment to calm down.”

“Please, he’s just still upset about what happened at Jaeun’s Beltane ball last year,” Roldan said, crossing his arms and smirking down at the crystal. The light rippled. Oh. Had he struck a nerve?

“How dare you,” Davion said, his tone so deeply offended. “Getting cocky over there with my brother as a shield? Don’t think I’m above letting loose each and every one of your dirty little secrets Roldan-”

“So he’s right then?” Jareth cut him off. He was leaning forward again, staring intently into the sphere as if his brother might actually be seen. “Still feeling insecure are we?” When no response came, Jareth continued. “Come, come, brother. I thought you prided yourself on sexual liberation?”

“...You’re such an ass, Jareth.”

“Do remember to be a proper host. Your guest is a king, after all. It is your obligation to fulfill _ all _of his needs.” Being the ever-considerate brother that he was, Jareth kept the mockery in his tone to a minimum. He even waited for a retort. However, when what followed was yet another silence, Jareth sagged his shoulders and sighed. “You can always cry about it afterwards.”

“Please. Do not insult me,” Davion snapped. “Though I fail to understand why I must defend myself. Neither of you were there. You have no idea what he- He’s just- _ ugh, _he makes me want to scrub my whole body to the bone! I’m all for a spot of epicene debauchery but- Have you ever looked that man in the eye? There’s just something not right there. The idea of being touched by those claws makes my skin crawl-”

“Being touched again, you mean.”

“Roldan, I swear to the gods if you make one more mention of that night I will-”

“Admit yourself a pederast?” Jareth said. “That is what happened, if I was told correctly?”

Davion growled and the sound of his pacing was audible through the crystal. 

Yes, if ever Davion had encountered a moment of shame it was undoubtedly at the Dutchess of Asterfe’s _ spring fling _ the previous year. Jareth had not cared to go, but oh the stories he was told. Apparently, in one of his more appealing guises, Bezaleel had come onto Davion more _ aggressively _ than he was used to. Of course, being Davion, he did not hesitate at the advance -Jareth wondered if he’d realized it was Bezaleel at all. And things progressed as such things tend to progress...However, and this was the part that always made Jareth chuckle like an outright git, once things were _ well under way _, Bezaleel decided to change forms. Sources differed over what happened next, as there was a bit of dispute over whether or not Davion had been on the giving or receiving end at that particular moment. Regardless, the effect was the same, as Davion was no-doubt surprised to find himself either fucking, or being fucked by, a very naughty ten-year-old. 

“I am not a fucking pedophile!” Davion shouted. Jareth laughed harder. “Gods! Believe it or not, I _ do _have standards. He was a woman, a full-grown woman, when we started!”

Shaking his head, Jareth wiped an imaginary tear from his eye and leaned back. A rumble of laughter lingered in his chest. Oh, it was just too much. 

“Uh-huh,” he said, and rolled his eyes away. “I’m surprised you’re still so sore over the matter. You’re always complaining how bored you are. But just listen to yourself. Over a year later and you’re still filled with such passion-”

“Rot in hell,” Davion interjected. Jareth bit his tongue. “The both of you. May ravens pick at your eyes and millipedes crawl up the holes in your cocks.”

“You’re welcome for the warning Davion.”

“Hmph,” Davion said, and, even through the crystal his pout was palpable. It was quiet for another moment, and then he sighed. “I suppose I _ should _be grateful,” he said, trying to forcibly change the subject. “I think I’ve heard more from you in these last few months than in the last few years combined. Even if I am nothing more than a dead horse for you to kick, I’ll be sure to thank Sarah for it. How is she, by the way?”

And now Jareth suddenly found himself bored. The smile fell from his face, and he rolled his eyes.

“She’s made a full recovery. Nothing to worry about.” For whatever reason, it was starting to annoy him that everyone was suddenly_ so concerned _ over Sarah’s wellbeing. After spending weeks and weeks trying to convince these fools she did in fact deserve their respect, it seemed, much too abruptly, that she now possessed a great deal more than their meager _ respect _. Was this jealousy he was feeling? He wasn’t sure. Either way, it was something he’d rather do without. 

“Good,” Davion said, pulling him from his thoughts. “Because I _ was _ worried. I still can’t believe you’d be so stupid as to-”

“What’s that Roldan?” Jareth said, peering up at Roldan who only blinked like he’d missed something. “An important meeting you say? Quite. Best be off then.” He turned back to the crystal and sneered at it. “Ta-ta little brother. Have fun with the preparations. And, as always, It’s a pleasure blocking your cock.”

He tapped the crystal and the light dimmed. Without a second thought for his brother, he grabbed the thing and shoved it back to the corner of the desk. 

“Are you satisfied?” Roldan asked, his tone light but his expression now just as bored as Jareth’s. He thought about scolding him for his poor display of manners just now, but this was Davion they were dealing with and he didn’t much care. “He’s going to be throwing a fit for the rest of the week.”

“Oh, I do hope so,” Jareth said, amusement now mingling with vague irritation. “I hope his balls self-castrate with thoughts of Beltane as well. Insufferable slut that he is.” He grumbled a bit as he spoke, and turned his attention towards a blank stack of parchment that sat off to the side. He pulled out a sheet and began scribbling something. 

“What are you doing now?’

“Replying to Bezaleel,” he said, not looking up. “Best get it out of the way now…”

“Right. Have you already packed?” Jareth paused but Roldan did not notice. “Or would you like me to take care of that for you, as well?”

“What?” Jareth asked, and then set down his pen as he looked up at Roldan. “What are you talking about?”

“...Your trip to Sulu?” Roldan said, staring him dead in the eye. “The one you’re scheduled to leave for tomorrow morning?” He waited for some sort of light to shine behind Jareth’s eyes and, when no such thing happened, Roldan sighed and rolled his own away. “Don’t tell me you forgot?” he asked, with derision. Again, Jareth did not respond. Roldan shook his head. “Gods...it really is a wonder…”

“If you find me so inadequate, you’re welcome to go in my stead,” Jareth said, taking his narrowed eyes away from Roldan and lowering them back to the paper. Roldan glared from his peripheral and inhaled slowly. 

“I would. If you did not already write to Lord Eines personally and inform him that you, _ Your Majesty _, would be the one performing the final rite. I can supervise construction, but creating grand and mystical feats of magic are a bit above my pay grade.” Jareth did not respond, though Roldan knew it was because he was more focused on writing. He sighed and took a step towards the edge of the desk, waiting until he finished the letter before continuing. “If the timing has become inconvenient, I can write to Eines and explain that the visit will be postponed.”

Jareth, about to sign his name at the bottom of the page, paused and furrowed his brow. That’s right...It’d been over two months since the renovations in Sulu began. He’d told Eines he would fortify their barrier. There was, frankly, no one else who could. This trip would not have been an issue in any capacity, if Sarah had not almost killed herself a couple of days ago. She was still grounded, and he was still very much paranoid. Her necklace was disenchanted and, while nothing had yet happened, it was like he was just waiting for Liana to make a move. He did not trust her. But, more than that, he was still afraid of losing Sarah. It was all he could do not to chain her to her bed and watch her through a crystal all hours of the day. He’d never felt like that before. This new state of anxiety was...unwelcomed. 

His eyes, falling vacantly on the desktop, regained focus and he quickly scribbled his name. 

“No...No, that won’t be necessary. I will go.”

“Good.” Roldan nodded, and paced. “...and Sarah?” Jareth peered up through his bangs with a quirked brow. Roldan quirked one back. “Would you like me to restrict her to her room while you're away?” 

He watched Jareth’s brow draw tight once more. Watched as some manner of contention plagued his mind. Roldan felt his jaw tense. Jareth was still worried. Still feeling protective. That much was certain. The manifestation of such feelings through an expression alone bothered Roldan. Jareth, as strong as he was, was very rarely worried. And what boded ill for Jareth, boded ill for all. 

“No. I...will just take her with me,” he said, and glanced away as he began to package and seal the letter.

“Oh? Are you sure that’s wise?” Roldan asked. He turned away and re-crossed his arms. “Her punishment has lasted a mere three days. You may give her the wrong idea by suddenly absconding halfway across the country with her. Unless of course, the fearsome Goblin King really is all bark and no bite.”

Roldan spoke with an air of detachment, something bored and disappointed, and only slightly out of line. He glanced back at Jareth to find him staring rather intently.

“Careful Roldan,” he said, with a bit of actual warning. “I’ve bitten her plenty.”

* * *

  
  


Sarah stared pensively at the floor as she and Mariella made their way back to her room. She’d been given “special permission” to leave her floor and, now that her visit with Didymus was concluded, she wondered in just how much of a hurry she should be in finding her way back…But then again, wandering off was what had gotten her in trouble in the first place. Hm, maybe she _ should _hurry. 

Mariella was prattling, going on about some comical childhood story that Sarah, plainly, was hardly listening to. 

“-And then I tripped. Fell right off the edge of the cliff. And after all that fussing! I did feel so bad for that goose though. Poor thing did not deserve such a fate. Gods, what an exhilarating day-”

She ended the tale with a wistful sigh, which was, apparently, Sarah’s cue to laugh. When she didn’t, the bubbly fae glanced down poutingly.

“Sarah? Are you even listening?”

“Huh?” 

Sarah peered up with a look of innocence as Mariella scowled down at her. Oh. Was she in trouble? 

Sarah blinked and smiled awkwardly.

“Sorry Marie. That sounds like a terrifying experience,” she said, unconvincingly. Mariella frowned. 

“It was anything but. What were you thinking about?”

“Just um...how nice it would be to have lunch outside,” Sarah replied. She stared out ahead, shrugging and feigning apathy. Not being able to go anywhere was really bugging her, but honestly it wasn’t the confinement itself she found so strenuous. No, what was causing her so much anxiety was not knowing where she actually stood with Jareth. His decree on the length of her punishment had been _ indefinitely _ , which left her constantly teetering on the question of whether or not he’d actually gotten over it. He’d been in good spirits since then. Hadn’t acknowledged the figurative shackles linking them together at all. It was confusing. Mainly because it created a dynamic that felt oddly parental, and that did not sit well with her _ at all _. 

She kept waiting for the moment he would finally say “times up”, but it had yet to come, and the way she kept herself perched on the edge of her seat in anticipation for _ his approval _felt wrong on so many levels that, on multiple occasions, she could swear she’d felt her skin actually crawl. 

But that wasn’t to say the reason why she continued to endure these cringes was unknown to her. Regardless of whether or not she deserved such condescending treatment, it was what Jareth needed. He needed her to submit and placate to him for his own sense of emotional security. She’d sensed that well enough -and was it not a wife’s job to support her husband? He was afraid. He’d never shown her that side of himself, she’d never even thought it could exist, and she knew she needed to respect the gravity of the intimate moment they’d shared. And so she complied. She bit her tongue. Shut her mouth. Folded her hands in her lap and played the happy wife who would not so much as reach a finger out a window lest it attract a passing mosquito. It seemed to be working well enough. He was relaxing more, day by day. Although...she was not sure how much longer she could endure it.

The sound of laughter distracted her, and both she and Mariella peered over towards the source of it resonating at the end of the hall. 

Sarah paused when the image of Jareth, accompanied by Roldan, appeared from around the next corner. He was laughing. They both were? Yes. They were definitely both laughing. Together. Like friends. Roldan’s smile was awkward and reluctant, but it was real. They were staring at one another, like a couple of school boys, snickering at something that was, in all likelihood, reprehensible. It painted an odd portrait. Very odd. Sarah wondered if she’d ever even heard Roldan laugh before.

Even Marie seemed surprised by this, as she scrunched her brow and cocked her head to one side.

“Are...they actually getting along?” she asked. Sarah’s brow rose. They were still a ways away, and hadn’t yet noticed they were watching.

“...Looks like it.”

“My...I don’t think I’ve ever seen them laugh together like that. It’s rather cute, isn’t it?”

Sarah glared up at Marie, who was already smiling and biting her tongue like an imp. Sarah grinned in spite of herself, and shook her head as she looked away. 

Roldan, who was also shaking his head in response to whatever bit of nastiness Jareth had just said, shoved a folder into the satchel he carried, and then his eye caught on their movement up ahead. He looked up, and so did Jareth.

Jareth’s eyes caught Sarah’s immediately and her breath hitched, suffering an instinctive jolt of panic at the realization that she’d been caught, red-handed, outside the parameters of her jail cell. 

His smile turned into something else, something that had come to be reserved solely for her. It curled on one side, and it came with a glint of fang. 

“Ah. Good morning, ladies,” he said -a perfect picture of cheer. Sarah, still standing awkwardly in the center of the hall, finally broke free of herself and approached them. 

“It’s after noon, actually,” she said, in a less enthusiastic tone. She averted her gaze from him, though she wasn’t quite sure why. Mariella, suffering an opposite reaction, grinned from ear to ear and pressed her hands together.

“A good day indeed, Your Majesty,” she said, and bowed. “And to you too, Master Roldan. What a nice surprise to have run into you here.”

“Yes. _ Surprise _,” Jareth said, ominously. Sarah narrowed her eyes on him but it was Roldan who spoke first.

“It’s been quite a while, Your Majesty. Are you feeling well?”

Sarah, caught off guard by the casual sincerity of Roldan’s question, blinked like an idiot before responding. That’s right. They hadn’t crossed paths since she’d left for the alms giving. 

“Um...yeah. All better,” she said, stealing a glance at Jareth who, at that specific moment, was giving Roldan a very bored side-eye. Hm. 

Roldan’s eyes flickered down and up again, visually inspecting her as if her words were not good enough.

“Good,” he said, and crossed his arms. “You gave the castle quite the scare the other day. It’s nice to see you’re finally out and about. Maybe now the goblins will calm down.”

“Calm down? Oh. I...didn’t realize they were upset-” she said, and frowned as she thought over the possible extent of the local panic. The day the Labyrinth wall had fallen, Jareth’s throne room, hell, the entire city, had been in shambles. 

“Of course they’re upset,” Jareth said, pulling her from her imminent doldrums. She looked up from the floor and his eyes found hers with intention. He even cocked a facetious brow at her. “You are their precious Queen.”

“Haven’t you told them I’m fine?”

“Yes-” Roldan said, and she looked over at him. “Though...seeing is believing, and all of that.” He rolled a hand as he spoke, his tone, let alone the gesture, conveying his extreme displeasure on the matter. He really did not care for goblins. 

“Oh...should I like...present myself or something?” she asked. Jareth, as tactful as ever, successfully restrained a huff. 

“They will settle in their own time,” he said, and she pursed her lips. “You are, after all, still grounded.” Oh. And there it was. After three days of passive imprisonment, it seemed he had indeed not forgotten. Damn. Sarah frowned and looked away. “Which brings me to this rather loud elephant in the room. As much as I enjoy chance meetings, what are you doing all the way down here?” There was a bit of mischief in his voice as he’d asked that, something that had Sarah blanching on reflex. She looked at him once more, only now her frown was turning into a scowl.

“I...we went to visit Sir Didymus,” she said, and looked back at Mariella. “Creak came and said he woke up this morning.” When she turned back to Jareth there was uncertainty in tow. “He also said it was okay for me to go see him. I assumed that order came from you?” She was staring at him rather intently and, for just a brief second, he wished they were alone. Oh, how that pouting lower lip begged to be bitten...

Pushing away such inappropriate thoughts, he blinked and smiled at her. 

“Right. Silly me. Apparently, I’m a bit forgetful today,” he said, and peered over at Roldan shrewdly. This statement was confirmed by the way Roldan then rolled his eyes and shook his head with disapproval. “But…” Jareth continued, his eyes gaining a trace more focus. “I believe you’ve already passed the stairwell leading back to your level. Pushing your luck so soon? _ Pet? _”

Sarah narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms defensively.

“I wouldn’t dream of it,_ Your Majesty _,” she said, sarcastically. ”We were just taking the scenic route.” -Which, in her defense, was true. She was starting to pout, however, and looked away from him sharply. Mariella, not wanting such a pleasant day to be ruined so stupidly, chose that moment to push the advantage. 

“Yes. We were discussing where we might like to have lunch,” she piped up. Jareth, who’d been giving Sarah a rather predatory look, glanced over at the nymph challengingly.

“Really?”

Forcing a smile, Mariella carried on.

“Quite. We were talking about what a lovely day it is and how nice it would be to dine out on a balcony. Of course, we would never defy His Majesty’s orders. T’was simple musings. A parlor will do just as well.” If Jareth did not already know exactly what kind of woman Mariella was, even he might have been swayed by her display of feminine wiles just now. She fluttered her lashes and smiled widely. Was just oh-so-sincere. She really was well practiced. No doubt, Davion’s favorite whore. He smiled at her, but it was a nasty expression without any pleasantry at all. 

“Is that so?” he asked, with a hint of laughter to carry the words. Gods, had she really expected him to take her seriously? Sarah, not quite picking up on any of this, flickered her eyes away and back again, and stood stiffly.

“Yeah…” she said, and he glanced down at her. “You could always join us, if you want...both of you.” Her eyes darted between Jareth and Roldan, wondering whether or not her offer would be construed as absurd. Roldan arched a brow and looked at Jareth, who tilted his head as he regarded Sarah.

“We really should be getting back to work-”

“We would love to.” 

Roldan, miffed for being so rudely interrupted, glared at Jareth as a wide smile stretched across his face. Sarah, feeling suddenly put on the spot, darted her eyes anywhere but at him.

“Cool,” she said and, not anticipating such an eager response, took an awkward side-step. “Anywhere in particular you’d like-”

“A balcony,” Jareth interrupted. Sarah closed her mouth. “There’s one not too far from here, I believe. Your maid is right-” and he glanced back at Roldan. “The weather is superb. What do you say?” Roldan held his stare, mildly skeptical, and then shrugged.

“I guess.” 

“Oh goodie!” Mariella clapped the tips of her fingers together with glee, and skipped a little towards Roldan. She really hadn’t expected Jareth to take her bait so willingly, but Sarah was just looking so depressed, she had to at least try. Good thing they’d caught him in such a fine mood. Now Sarah could go outside! She was so happy, she did not even think about asking for Roldan’s consent before lacing her arm with his. The zeal of her gesture forced him to turn on his heel and, very suddenly, she was leading him away. “Come, come, Master Roldan. Best be off. I am famished.” 

A small amused huff escaped Jareth’s nose as he stared after a very awkward-looking Roldan. He and Sarah had not yet moved, still facing one another. After a moment, he looked down to her and cocked his head. 

“Well?” 

Sarah looked away, not quite finished with her glower.

“I’m not a pet,” she said, petulantly. Jareth wriggled his brow at her. “So please, do not throw me bones like one.” She spoke matter-of-factly which, oddly, only amused him further. He quirked a brow at her, but otherwise managed to restrain himself from poking fun. She looked troubled, though he got the feeling it was over something other than lunch. 

“Would you rather I lock you in your room while the three of us enjoy a pleasant meal instead?” he asked. She huffed.

“Please. As if you would ever subject yourself to such a thing without me as an incentive,” she said, mockingly. Jareth grinned. She’d had such a little temper about her these last few days. But it was different from before. It wasn’t fueled by defiance and hate. No, it was trite and sparky and cute. Honestly, It might have bothered him more if he wasn’t still reeling from the fact that she was even alive. -Oh, and that she’d finally admitted she loved him. 

“You know me only too well,” he said, and reached out to pull her in by the waist. She wasn’t expecting it and stumbled a little. He wrapped his arms around her hips and held her pressed to him. Her arms were still crossed, holding steadfast, when he knew her first instinct was to reach out and touch him as well. 

“How long am I going to be grounded for? Being a full-grown adult, it’s starting to feel kind of degrading.”

“Your pride will be the death of you. It’s been all of three days.” His hold on her was tender, but it had absolutely no effect. In fact, it seemed to work in reverse as she then glared over at him. His teasing smile humbled. So. Darn. Cute. “Do you want to go to lunch or not?” he asked. His tone was appeasing. Everything about him was so damn appeasing. It was hard to stay annoyed at him. 

Her lower lip protruded as she pouted a little harder -his urge to bite it renewed.

“I do,” she conceded and, when he let go of her waist to presumably turn away and join the others, she found herself reaching out and clasping his hand on reflex. He paused and looked back. “But...there’s something I want to talk to you about first.” 

Sensing something a bit more serious than scant annoyance, Jareth faced her expectantly.

“Alright.” 

Sarah’s eyes averted, and she bit the inside of her lip.

“When I was talking with Didymus and Baldur...They mentioned something about being punished,” she started, not quite sure how to best go about this. Sensing her trepidation, Jareth’s brow drew tighter and he tilted his head a little. 

“Did they?”

“Yes.” and she lifted her gaze to look him in the eye. “They said they failed their pledge as Knights and that they would be punished for it. That you might even revoke their knighthoods…” Her words trailed away along with her stare, and it became clear to him that this was a matter more personal to her than it should have been. He was starting to frown. She looked very worried. 

“And?” he asked. There was a tick in Sarah’s expression. She inhaled to compose herself and then looked back up at him.

“And I wanted to know what you planned on doing.” She let go of his hand and crossed her arms. “Baldur said you haven’t given an order yet. So I just…”

“You realize I could have them hanged for such profound negligence, yes?” Jareth interjected. Sarah froze and clenched her biceps. “You almost died. You were mortally wounded and it was totally avoidable.”

“Yes, but that’s all on me,” she said, suddenly impassioned. She gulped and stood a little taller. “Baldur and Didymus did everything they could to protect me. Didymus was ready to die just to be a distraction while I escaped. And Baldur-”

“Your Captain is the most accountable of all,” he said. She paused. Jareth’s eyes, becoming more and more serious, trained on her face. Sarah gulped again. “He should have prevented you from going anywhere near Didymus’s body. The opportunity to poison yourself should not have existed at all.”

“So he’s no more accountable than yourself then?” she countered. Surprisingly, Jareth shut his mouth. Not wanting to let the opportunity slip, she ignored the new tension she saw in his jaw and carried on. “You were there too. You were just as caught up in the moment as the rest of us. Should I be allowed to annul our marriage because you also failed in your pledge to protect me? Husband?” There was heavy inflection in her tone, something Jareth did not at all appreciate. He felt a tick moving through his clenched jaw, but was able to suppress the instinct to retaliate. Behind his stung pride, he knew she was absolutely right. She stared at him with hard eyes, eyes that fought to prove their conviction while still quibbling with worry. He took a moment to carefully choose his response, then exhaled through his nose, slowly. 

“What would you have me do then? My Queen?” he asked, with a low, guarded tone. Sarah gulped and re-tensed the grip she had on her arms. She could tell she’d hit a nerve, and was honestly caught off guard he’d chosen to remain passive. From the way he was staring at her, however, she knew that if she didn’t wise up that state would not last long. 

“I...I don’t want you to revoke their knighthood,” she said, standing a little taller. “And...I want them to stay on as my Guard.” Jareth’s brow rose in response to her audacity, though he remained quiet. Sarah licked her lips, which were now as dry as the desert. “And...I don’t want them physically hurt as punishment.” 

She kept her eyes locked with his as she waited for a verdict. Though, no matter how stern she thought she might be, it was impossible to conceal the very slight recoil in her posture. Jareth, stone-faced, exhaled again. 

“Anything else?”

Sarah blinked. Was that...was that a yes?

“No…” she said, skeptically. “I also...wanted to thank you.”

“For what?”

She shifted uncomfortably and kept her eyes strictly away from him. Jareth’s stare roamed over her, wanting so badly to tear those nervous fingers away from herself.

“For checking up on him,” she said, and stole a peek up at him. “You have been keeping an eye on Didymus, yes?”Jareth’s brow knitted and to her he looked confused. She elaborated a little more- “You’ve known the status of his condition these past few days. You knew that he woke up this morning, and told Creak that I could go visit him. So...thanks for that.”

For about the tenth time, Sarah’s eyes drifted away from him. And, for about the tenth time, Jareth fought the urge to snap at her to stop doing such a thing. While she was indeed submissive and demure, he did not like the lack of confidence she displayed in such moments. Like she was afraid of him. Like she thought her efforts were futile. Was he really so unreasonable? And yet she still asked...

Jareth sighed as his eyes passed vacantly through her.

“You’re lucky-” he said, and she peered back curiously. He caught her gaze, and waited a beat to make sure she would not dart it away. “They will be...suspended,” he continued, enunciating the last word as if it was new to his vocabulary. Sarah’s expression brightened very quickly, creating a preemptive light of hope that he was equally quick in curbing. He pointed a stern index finger up in the space between them. “-pending a _ very _rigorous retraining.”

Sarah blinked and, while he thought adding such a stipulation would humble her, in reality the spark in her eye grew exponentially. Her frown widened into an amazed kind of smile, and she almost laughed.

“Wha-really?”

“Are you surprised?” Jareth asked, feeling a little offended by such a dramatic reaction. “Does mercy not suit me?” he added. Sarah’s gaping smile devolved into a regular gape, and her passion faded. What he wanted to say was, _ ”see what happens when you ask nicely?” _ but wisely refrained. Moments where he could show her he could be something other than her initial presumption were to be savoured, and, despite his pride, he intended to do so, fully. 

Realizing her reaction had been less than tactful, she darted her eyes away and drew her brow together. 

“N-no. I just...thank you. Thank you, Jareth,” she said, fighting back residual disbelief, and relief, over the fact. Wow. That was so easy. A part of her thought such a request would turn into a _ whole thing _. Wasn’t this a breath of fresh air? 

Pondering her curious moment of bliss, she left herself unaware of the now impatient scrutiny of the very generous Goblin King. He reached out and grasped her jaw, then jerked her forward so she stumbled into him. She caught herself against his chest but did not brace for the kiss he soon sealed over her open mouth.

She tasted him on her tongue, but, before it could be savoured, the moment was over just as quickly as it had been initiated.

“You’re welcome,” he said, and rubbed a gentle thumb over her lip where he’d bitten it. “Now...may we get a move on? Gods know what trials your nymph is subjecting our poor Roldan to.” 

* * *

  
  


In a manner that still felt too awkward and surreal to be fully appreciated, Sarah held Jareth’s hand as they walked all the way to their dining spot. It was not far, though the walk, in utter silence, made it seem much longer. She gripped his hand a little tighter than necessary, and told herself it was only because he had such a long stride, which made him difficult to keep up with. 

She lowered her head and smiled gleefully, feeling so triumphant she’d managed to secure the wellbeing of her friends. But then again, maybe she was being arrogant. Maybe Jareth never had any intention of punishing them, which would have made her efforts just now a rather laughable farce. Regardless, she prided herself all the same. 

She let go of his hand once they came to the door to the balcony, which was already propped open. Light was shining through into the hall, and she could hear the sound of birds chirping somewhere closeby. 

With a hand at her back, he gestured for her to enter first -a very misleading display of decorum. The contact sparked something in her, something that had her regretting the shared company. 

Mariella and Roldan were standing together at the far end of the balcony, close to the railing, and chatting idly as he poured her a drink from a conveniently placed cart. There was a table behind them, a quaint little thing -white painted iron that was twisted and curled into an elegant botanical design- with four chairs seated intimately addressing one another. There were planters hanging from the railing, which curved around the perimeter of the balcony in an ovular shape -it was a new addition at Sarah’s suggestion (in the effort to liven the place up a bit). Curly little vines and pretty pink flowers now framed the space and, much to her satisfaction, had been attracting all kinds of otherworldly insects and birds and fairies. Every balcony had been redecorated in such a fashion. Every patio. Every terrace. Every little nook or cranny that could be filled with something cheerful, was. It had been a fun project for her and Mariella, and the castle goblins, over the last couple of weeks. Maybe that was partially why her imprisonment bothered so much. She had hardly the chance to enjoy the fruit of her labours.

She regarded their surroundings with a stupid little smile as the two of them walked, side by side, to join the others. Sarah’s eyes caught on a hanging bird bath off to the side, a translucent, crystal teardrop that hung from an iron hook. There was the source of the chirping she’d heard from the hall, and she grinned wider at the little ball of feathers that was busy preening itself in the water with such blissful ignorance. She peered up to Jareth, but he wasn’t paying attention. She almost asked what he thought of the changes, but didn’t. Aside from a passing compliment on her aesthetic choices for the newly refurbished throne room, Jareth had not so much as acknowledged any of the other changes she’d been making to _ their home _. And she’d be damned if she came off as seeking his approval by fishing. No, she told herself his opinion did not matter in the slightest. She was the head of the house now. She could do whatever she wanted. 

A part of her debated painting the castle walls pink and hanging banners with profane hand signs, as she’d once threatened, just to see if he would notice. 

“Took you long enough,” Roldan called out, handing Mariella her drink and simultaneously turning back to greet them. “Did you get lost?” 

“Only for a moment,” Jareth said, grinning as they all came to stand together. Turning away, Roldan’s attention went back to the drink cart as he started collecting glasses.

“Do you want something to drink, Sarah?” he asked -on principle. She saw he was holding a wine decanter, and curled her tongue at it.

“Just water is fine,” she said. Roldan glanced back, shrugged, and then set the decanter down in lieu for a pitcher of water.

“Bourbon, I’m assuming, Jareth?” he asked from over his shoulder. Though his words were phrased as a question, it did not seem to be one as Roldan then handed Jareth an already prepared tumbler. Jareth accepted and took a sip.

“I wasn’t sure how long you would be, so I prepared the space in your absence. I hope you don’t mind,” Mariella said, and, while she was speaking to Sarah, Sarah realized the latter half of her sentence was in all likelihood directed at Jareth. This realization helped stop herself from asking why the hell she would mind Mariella ordering drinks. 

“We were only a few minutes behind you. You got a lot done,” Sarah replied, eyeing the too-cute table and chairs that were now, for peculiar reasons, unsettling Sarah’s nerves. The four of them had never been together like this -willingly and under totally casual circumstances. The only time they’d all eaten together was at Davion’s, and at that time they had all been sitting in a line on the same side of the table. This whole scenario just felt odd all of the sudden. Roldan offered her a glass, which she accepted wordlessly. 

“Yes, well, I wasn’t joking when I said I was famished. Shall we take our seat?” Marie smiled and gestured towards the table. Sarah went first, sitting at the farthest side nearest the railing. To her right was Jareth. To her left, Marie. Roldan sat across from her. They were so close they could touch elbows. Damn, this was fucking weird. 

Sarah seemed to be the only one harbouring such feelings, for, as she looked around the table, in contrast to Mariella’s unbridled contentment, the men looked whole-heartedly disinterested. They were both looking away, Roldan off into the clouds and Jareth down into his glass as they waited for the goblins to arrive. 

Sarah folded her hands in her lap.

“So...the renovations came out nice,” Sarah said to Marie, who, thankfully, pushed away all opportunity for awkwardness with sheer exclamation.

“Oh, haven’t they, though? I was worried when we were barred from supervising the goblins, but they’ve just done a marvelous job. I hope here is an accurate representation of the rest of the castle. Just imagining how lovely this place could be with a little tender love and care takes my breath away.” She shook her head and placed a hand firmly over her heart. From anyone else, she might have suspected the gesture to be sarcastic, but not Mariella. No, of course she meant every word she said. It took some of her tension away, which allowed her to spy on the other two. 

“It does look nice,” Roldan said, from behind the brim of his cup. Sarah’s brow lifted. Oh. A compliment? Honestly, she’d expected more from Jareth. She smiled at him wryly. 

“Really? So not a waste of time then?” she asked, teasingly. Roldan closed his eyes and shrugged.

“I admit, I am very surprised the throne room has not yet succumbed to those creature’s incessant shenanigans. -Though I still think it is but a matter of time,” and he paused to set his chalice down on the table. “Landscaping, however, is something goblins are well-suited towards. Menial tasks are their forte. Train them in the arts of the scholars and the physicians, and you’ll truly color me impressed.”

“With such a low opinion, it’s a wonder this castle hasn’t yet burned to the ground,” Sarah said, sarcastically, and shot Jareth an eye. “Isn’t your council made entirely of goblins?” Jareth set his glass on the table as well, though kept his hand firmly around it.

“Indeed,” he said, and gave Roldan a sly side-eye. “Why do you think our dear Roldan is such a busy-body? He simply cannot, after all these years, allow himself to rely on my judgement.”

Roldan huffed and rolled his eyes.

“You rely too much on delegation.”

“And you’re a micromanager.” 

Sarah hid behind her cup the same as Marie as they watched the banter unfold. Jareth was grinning, reclining leisurely and, while Roldan was as poised as ever, there was a noticeable ease about him too. She remembered seeing them like this when they were practicing archery, and it was just as peculiar then, too. 

Before anyone else had the chance to speak, a couple of goblins arrived pushing a dining cart. They bowed and then set a covered tray in front of each of them.

“Thank you, Gorbulk,” Sarah said, peering down just as the goblin released her tray. Gorbulk jittered and bowed, concealing a huge smile on his face.

“You’s welcome, M-majesty,” he said, and then scuttled away. 

“And Thanks to you, Perry,” Mariella said, addressing the other goblin. It too bowed. Sarah peered up at Jareth and Roldan intently, half urging, half wondering if they would humor her new house rule. Roldan caught Sarah’s eye, and he grumbled.

“Thank you for your truly excellent service,” Jareth suddenly said, surprising them all. Sarah looked over at him with a gape. His attention, however, was on the pair of goblins. He was slouching in his chair, and tapped a finger against his tumbler before tilting his head lazily. “Do give my commendation to your supervisor,” he added, and the tiny things nearly jumped with glee. They started to huff and puff, and bowed all the way to the floor in response to such high praise. 

“Thank you. Thank you, Your Majesty,” they said, repeatedly, and then quickly absconded with the cart. Jareth stared after them with a hollow smile, before turning back to the three of them, totally ignorant of the shock that rendered their faces.

“Something the matter?” he asked the lot of them. Mariella blinked and then averted her gaze. Roldan’s held strong. Sarah however, scowled.

“Could you be any more sarcastic?” she asked, scoldingly. Jareth huffed and took another sip of his drink. Sarah shook her head and looked away. “At least they didn’t pick up on it-”

“Yes. I probably just gave new meaning to their tiny little lives. You’re welcome.” The playfulness she heard in his voice made her scowl harder, but she chose to let it go.

“At least you tried,” she said, dismissively, and rolled her eyes back at him. Jareth grinned and spied on Roldan.

“Which is more than we can say for you, Roldan,” he said, stifling a chuckle at the way he stifled a groan. He was scowling, and shook his head as he looked away. “It was very rude of you not to address them, you know. And very bold, defying the decree of The Queen to her own face like that.”

And then Sarah sighed. Jareth had that alpha-male air about him now that usually resulted in something unnecessary. Already Roldan was starting to squirm under it. But even so, his words were not untrue. She rolled her eyes between the two males. 

“It’s fine,” she said, sternly. Roldan, still engaged in a quiet pissing match with Jareth through their locked stares, broke away from it and looked over at her. “Jareth’s right. They looked positively ecstatic just now. It’s not a big deal that not all of us thanked them,” she said, a little beside herself that she actually had to reassure him like this. Honestly, sometimes the two of them were no better than children. When the hell did she get so mature? 

“So merciful. Are you sure you don’t want him flogged?” Jareth asked, provokingly. Sarah glared. He looked too damn comfortable with that one-sided grin. 

“I’d rather flog you for making a mockery of what should be a common courtesy. I didn’t think getting the two of you to say thank you was going to be such a big deal,” she lectured, not quite aware of her tone as it hardened with reproach. Mariella pursed her lips and averted her gaze. Roldan was quiet as well. Jareth, however, leaned towards her over the table with a very _ inappropriate _look on his face. 

“Ah, so I’m to be punished then?” His hands laced together over the table and he stared at her patiently. Sarah felt her cheeks inflame, but did not dare look away. He was holding her stare steadfast, and, the longer the challenge remained unanswered, the more her embarrassment was replaced by annoyance. 

“Don’t sound so eager. Maybe I _ will _punish Roldan instead.” 

Having expected a response that was definitely _ not _that, Jareth choked on a burst of laughter so sudden that it, thankfully, shattered whatever weird tension had been brewing about the four of them. He smiled widely and leaned back into his seat, chuckling, and glanced down as he rubbed at his eye with the heel of his hand. Sarah scowled harder as she watched this, as she watched him react with such excessive amusement that it actually became insulting. Focused on her husband and no one else, Sarah failed to notice the subsequent tensing, paling, and deflating of Roldan sitting directly across from her. He glanced away, swallowing hard and adjusting the collar of his coat as if the summer weather was just now getting to him. Mariella, feeling so incredibly awkward and giddy at the same time, bit down on the rim of her cup as she took tiny sips. 

“As fun as it is receiving idle threats, may we get on with our meal?” Roldan asked, as casually as possible. Sarah, still not quite grasping the gravity of her quip, turned away from Jareth to stare at Roldan.

“Yeah. So long as a certain King thinks he can handle civilized conversation?” she said, peering back at said King. Jareth, holding a crooked finger against his lips, eyed her dangerously. Oh, what a defiant look she was giving him. His stare on her alone was enough to convey all the terrible things he was thinking of doing to her in that one brief moment. 

“...perhaps I’ll just shut my mouth,” he said, with so much arrogance it was damn-near tangible. Sarah huffed and looked away. There was a very brief pause, and then Mariella took a dive.

“Right…” she said, awkwardly, trying to figure out how best to navigate their collective mood in a way that would not end in disaster. “So...what have you decided on for us today, Sarah?” She held her hands curled upright in front of her, hesitant to reach out for her tray. In gatherings such as this, it was custom for The Queen to decide everyone’s meal. Sarah didn’t really care about that but, at the moment, neither did she really care for the preference of her King. 

“Um...turkey sandwiches sound good,” she said, and pulled back the lid on her tray. She grinned and her mouth watered as she stared down at it. Roldan, watching her curiously, furrowed his brow as he removed the lid to his own, as did Mariella and Jareth. Sarah did not hesitate before digging in.

“Really? Again?” Mariella asked. Sarah paused mid-chew.

“Um...yeah? Why? Have we been having this a lot?” she asked. She was staring at Mariella, unaware of the way Roldan fingered through the alien forms of his potato chips with something of both confusion and distaste. Jareth did not look like he intended to eat anything at all. 

“No...I suppose not. It’s just been the third time this week,” Mariella said. Sarah shrugged.

“Oh. What can I say? It’s my favorite meal.” Was it the fancied, most special or complicated dish? No. But there was just something about processed deli meat and mayonnaise that really kicked her taste buds into gear. As their meal progressed, Sarah waited for Roldan to use this to confirm her lack of culture. 

“...This is your favorite meal?” And there it was. Or rather, he was leading up to it. Sarah swallowed her mouthful and stared at him deadpan.

“Yes. Just eat it. It’s good. Trust me,” she said, and started in on her chips. “Not sure it will pair well with wine though. ...or bourbon for that matter,” she added, glancing over at Jareth who, to his word, had not yet bothered to speak. 

“Well, you are the expert in these matters,” he said, sarcastically, and, with total disregard, tossed his drink, glass n’ all, over his shoulder and off the balcony entirely. Sarah actually gasped, and cut short an impulsive chuckle while simultaneously scowling -caught between the urge to reprimand him and just appreciate the joke for what it was. Roldan however, was not so conflicted. He merely shook his head and frowned. 

“You didn’t need to be so dramatic about it,” she said, smiling in spite of herself as she turned back to her meal. It was impossible, however, to take her eyes away from him just then. They lingered playfully, and he smirked in response.

“No, I didn’t,” he said, and plopped a salty potato chip into his mouth. 

This was nice. This was actually...very nice. It was easy. Casual. Friendly. It wasn’t too long ago when such a scenario between the four of them would have been impossible, which had Sarah appreciating it all the more. As they ate their food, remaining tensions eased and, all of the sudden, even Marie was speaking with a level of familiarity -to Jareth especially- that she’d never before displayed. And Jareth was receptive. He actually talked back to her. Wow. Seeing the two of them getting along, for maybe the first time ever, made Sarah happier than she had anticipated. She finished her meal long before anyone else, and placed a hand in her lap as she quietly observed. The weird feeling from earlier had been sated. Maybe she was just hungry. 

Eventually, everyone finished their meals, and the goblins Perry and Gorbulk returned with a dessert cart. 

“Ooh, I think I’ll have the strawberry tart,” Mariella said, smiling so sweetly at Perry, who handed her the plate with delicate fingers. Roldan and Jareth had each opted for a scone. Sarah, naturally, called dibs on the largest piece of chocolate cake her eyes could spy on. 

“So Jareth, I don’t believe you ever answered my question earlier,” Roldan said, cutting into his pastry with delicacy.

“What question is that?”

“Have you already packed, or would you like me to take care of that for you?”

Sarah paused from her delectable onslaught and peered up at the both of them.

“Pack? Pack for what?” she asked. Roldan looked over at her and blinked.

“Has he not mentioned?” Roldan asked. Sarah stared expectantly. “I assumed that’s what you were discussing in the hall...No matter. Jareth is set to leave for Sulu in the morning-”

“What?” Sarah interjected, shooting her stare over to Jareth. “You didn’t tell me you’re going to Sulu.” Jareth, feigning apathy, shrugged and cut his scone with his fork. 

“I had forgotten,” he said, and took a bite. “Roldan was kind enough to remind me of it this morning.” Sarah frowned a little and she sagged in her seat.

“Oh. How long will you be gone for?” she asked. Roldan, about to give it all away, stopped himself at the sound of Jareth’s fork being placed on his plate. 

“A few days. A week at the most.” 

All of the sudden, just like that, Sarah felt the air of cheer that had been lifting her up utterly deflate. She stared at him, with disappointment, not just because it meant a week without seeing him -as _ heartbreaking _as that was- but because she remembered a time when he had explicitly promised to take her with him. She was really looking forward to this trip. Another chance to get out and see the kingdom. But now, it seemed she was to sit home with her thumb up her ass. Why the hell did she have to touch the damn Labyrinth?? 

“I see...Have fun, I guess,” she said, despondent. Mariella frowned. Roldan, wondering what the hell Jareth was playing at, glared over at him discreetly. Jareth, already thoroughly gratified by her display, chose to take pity sooner than intended. 

“I will. Or rather, _ we _will.” 

Sarah’s head darted back over to face him so quickly it was comical. He tried, oh he really did, to smother the grin that was allowed no more than to curl the ends of his lips.

“What?” she asked, her eyes widening fractionally at the way his grin creeped. “I get to go too?”

“Do you still want to go?”

“Yes!” 

The level of excitement that exuded from every aspect of Sarah’s being was beyond melodramatic and entirely unwarranted. She even leaned forward in her seat, beaming over at him with gaping, desperate eyes. God, she was so sick of being locked in this castle. She was going stir crazy. She wanted, no, needed to get out of here. She was so impassioned, she did not even care what kind of impression she was making. She would beg him if he asked her. Okay, maybe not beg, but still -she really, really wanted to go. 

Jareth, regarding her with something of tenderness, tilted his head as he leaned back in his seat, and crossed his arms lightly over his chest.

“Then you shall go.” 

Sarah smiled so widely it nearly broke her face and, after seeing just how smug Jareth had become in reaction to it, was something that made Roldan want to smack the expression clear off Jareth’s face. What a stupid way to manipulate the girl. He’d quite clearly already made his decision well before this luncheon. This display of cat and mouse was gross and not something Roldan wanted any part of. As he continued to spy on Sarah, smiling so gaily at a very duplicitous Jareth, he realized he was angry for another reason entirely. It was not fair to make her smile like that under false pretenses. What? Did he really just think that? 

“Are we all going then?” 

Both Roldan and Jareth blinked in response to Sarah’s surprise question. She, now standing with her hands pressed firmly to the table, looked between the two eagerly.

“What?” 

“I mean, I assume Mariella is going if I am. I can’t exactly leave her behind, right?” she continued, glancing back at Marie who only stared back with a spoon hanging out of her mouth. “And, if Marie goes, it’s only fair that you go too, Roldan. Doesn’t make sense to leave you here all alone.”

“Oh, what fun!” Marie exclaimed, setting her spoon down on her plate and clapping her hands. Sarah, knowing very well that she was getting ahead of herself, used her girlish exuberance to her benefit, and turned back to Jareth with a touch of fluttering lashes. 

Jareth stared up at her, steeled, and, for a moment, she thought he saw through her. However, the sound of Roldan’s chair scraping against the stone blocks of the floor as he stood from his seat broke the moment before it could come to head. Sarah glanced over to him to find him waving a flippant hand in the air.

“That is all wholly unnecessary,” he said, turning away as he, apparently, went to refill his cup. “I don’t need your pity invitation. And, as Jareth has already said, I have a problem with delegation. Best I was here to manage things while you are gone for such a length of time.” 

Sarah frowned at the back of Roldan’s head. He was good at forcing disinterest, but right now Sarah saw only what she wanted to see -a very sad little fae who wanted nothing more than a family to belong to. My, what melodrama indeed. 

She peered down to Marie and arched her brow in Roldan’s direction. Picking up on the cue, Mariella immediately stood and left to join him.

“Goodness...It seems I’m in need of another refill already…” she muttered, and scampered off. 

Sarah turned her attention back to Jareth, who was patiently awaiting the continuation of their bargaining -er, conversation. 

She sat down and scooted her chair closer to his. 

“So? Can we all go?”

Jareth, having become fully reposed, now crossed an ankle over his knee and held a knuckle pressed to his mouth as his jaw rested in his hand. He was staring at her. Sizing her up, it would seem. 

“Roldan is right. It would be better to leave him behind,” he said, flatly. Sarah scowled.

“You were fine with him going up north with us,” she pointed out. 

“There is also a transdimensional gate connecting his walls to mine. If there was an issue, I could return to the Capital instantly. There are no such shortcuts between here and Sulu. If we leave together, it will be nearly a two day journey just to get there.” 

Sarah’s brow rose. She hadn’t realized that.

“Oh. Well...I guess Roldan’s right then. If you’re worried about leaving the castle in the care of your Council for one week, then I guess you don’t have as much faith in your own staff as you claim. Maybe you do delegate too much,” she said, oh-so-shrewdly. Jareth’s index finger tapped against his lips as he regarded her. She held her head high, raised her nose at him, and shrugged.

“Clever girl,” he said, with a darkened sense of amusement. “Come here,” he said, and extended a hand to her that was anything but casual. Sarah eyed it with trepidation, then glanced at the pair of fae still chatting over at the drink cart. Tentatively, she reached out and placed her hand in his. Predictably, his fingers curled and he jerked her forward. She stumbled out of her seat and straight into his lap. 

Mariella, reacting instinctively to Sarah’s panicky ‘oof’, peered over slyly and then spoke a little louder, making sure to hold Roldan’s attention. Oh goody, maybe she’d get to witness some more of their curious antics first hand. 

Sarah blushed and pushed out of his hold, though only succeeded in cementing it. He sat her on his thigh, gripping both her wrists tightly in her lap with one hand while the other lightly grasped the nape of her neck. At least her back was to Marie and Roldan. Though she cowered all the same.

“Let me go, will you? There are people nearby.” She spoke hushed, her eyes darting furiously to the side. Jareth grinned. Oh, if only they _ were _watching. 

“Don’t worry, they’re pretending not to notice,” he said, haughtily, and snickered when Sarah once again fought against his hold.

“That attitude isn’t helping,” she said, and sighed roughly when she realized she was not getting free. Jareth tilted his head and urged her to look at him.

“Why do you want him to go so badly?” he asked, in a softer tone to convey he was through playing. Sarah frowned at him.

“I don’t. I just thought...if it was the three of us then Marie might feel like an awkward third wheel. If Roldan comes then they can hang out with each other while we-um…” and she stopped dead. Her lips pursed and her wide eyes were kept strictly averted. Jareth’s grin stretched. She was so cute it was becoming difficult to restrain himself. His grip on her wrists adjusted and she felt the bare pads of his fingers lightly press against her palm. 

“Your maid can stay here as well. Would that not give us even more privacy?” he asked. Rather than rile her further, he watched as Sarah’s frown deepened.

“But I don’t want her to stay behind,” she said, childishly. She bit her cheek and looked back over at him. “I want Marie to come with us. She wants to see the kingdom too. She’s my friend, and it’ll be nice to have someone to talk to while you’re off doing business things -which I assume was the original intention of this trip. Besides…” and her voice trailed off again. Although, this time, there was something wayward in her gaze that he didn’t quite understand. “The three of you are like my family now. I think we should be together more. Like today. This has been...really nice.” 

Without either realizing it, Jareth had let go of her wrists entirely as he listened to her. There was a sadness about her, an odd hint of resentment over the fact that this was as good a replacement she was going to get for the family she had lost -or maybe that was his own resentment he was projecting. She seemed vulnerable, conflicted and, in all honesty, it was something he struggled to comprehend. A family? She viewed _ Roldan _and that nymph as her family? What, was she expecting him to feel the same? It had been a long time since she had even uttered the word. The idea felt preposterous, and yet in that moment he would say anything, give her anything, so long as she continued to look so sweet. 

He lifted his hand from her lap and held the side of her face. She brought her eyes up to his and they were round and beseeching. Gods, what a potent look. What a fierce display of wiles that he doubted she was even aware of. What a lovely thing. What a beautiful bit of scrutiny to wither under.

“Alright then,” he said, tenderly, and stroked her cheek with his thumb. “But you don’t need to sound so pitiful about it. It was only lunch.” 

She smiled at his jest and turned her face into his hand. He lost himself in her for that split second, in the way the sunlight illuminated her pale face against the blackness of her hair. Without thinking, he pulled her forward and kissed her. 

Roldan stared out of the corner of his eye at the god-awful moment he could not believe was happening in front of him. At first, he did not understand why Mariella was so insistent on talking with him here rather than back at the table, but the way her own eyes kept darting off to the side was not exactly shrewd. He gripped his glass tightly and looked away. There was something of shame brewing in his gut, but more than that, there was offense. 

Mariella licked her lips and smiled friskily as she looked back at Roldan. Oh, Sarah was going to be so very embarrassed about this. It would be wicked of her to put her on the spot once the men parted ways. But oh, how could she not! This was just too cute! Hopefully, that smooch meant His Majesty’s answer was yes, which had her feeling doubly excited. She’d never been to the Sulu district, never been to the southern kingdom at all. What a fun surprise the day had brought!

Sarah pulled away from the kiss with a misty look in her eye. She was aware of, but no longer cared about, the fae at her back. She loved when he was sweet like this. When he touched her so delicately and looked at her with such reverence. She pressed her forehead to his briefly and then sighed. It would be too easy to get caught up in one another, but they were still in the presence of company. She couldn’t help but crack a smile. As if Jareth would care for such things.

“You’re being awfully accommodating today,” she said, lightheartedly. Jareth arched a brow and inhaled deeply.

“I told you, I would give you the world if you’d only let me. All you ever have to do is ask.” His thumb brushed against her mouth and she nipped at it, smiling as she did so. One of her hands left her lap and grasped the crook of his neck. He was wearing a loose white shirt today. It hung open in the chest and sat wide on his shoulders. Her fingers trailed absently over his clavicle and down his chest. 

“Will you unground me, then?” she asked, playing into the mood and hoping, so direly, that she could seduce her way out of this. Jareth regarded her carefully, then pulled her in for one final kiss. When he pulled away, he pinched her chin.

“Hm...no.” 

Mariella and Roldan both glanced over at the sound of a smack as Sarah slapped away the hand of a snickering Goblin King.

  
  


* * *

  
  


The next day, Sarah woke up bright and early all on her own. She was excited. Very excited. She had spent most of the previous evening packing with Mariella. Unlike with their trip north, this time they would be traveling by carriage; which meant this would be her very first Underground road trip. Squee!

She was not surprised to find Jareth gone by the time she’d woken. He was an early riser and often left her bed cold by the time the birds started to chirp. She didn’t mind it today, however. There was just too much to do. 

Mariella arrived shortly after she’d crawled out of bed, around 7 am, and was surprised to find Sarah still in her night clothes. Apparently, they had a schedule to keep to. Before Sarah could even say “good morning” she was being pushed off into the bathroom. 

She showered quickly, and reentered her room with a towel wrapped tightly around her.

“I ordered a bit of breakfast while you were bathing,” Mariella said, shuffling about between Sarah’s dressers. Sarah peered over just as a waft of eggs and bacon filled her nose. “I also put together an outfit for you. It’s on the bed.” 

Looking between her breakfast and her clothes, Sarah debated which was a more urgent matter. And then, as she pondered the -usually mouthwatering- idea of gobbling down hot, greasy bacon, she felt an odd churn in her gut. She grimaced, and turned away from that entire side of the room, then scowled and stepped towards her bed as a hand lifted to her stomach. Now that was odd. She actually felt kind of nauseous…

“Are you alright?” she heard Mariella ask, and peered over reflexively. Her hand constricted in place.

“Huh? Yeah. Just not much of an appetite this morning,” she said, reassuringly, and turned to inspect her daily ensemble. Mariella stared at her, but let it go. She hadn’t been one for breakfast at all these last couple weeks.

Sarah tilted her head as she held up the pair of pants Mariella had laid out for her. Now that was even more odd. She never chose pants for her in the first round. 

“No dress today?” Sarah asked. They crossed gazes as Mariella shut the closet doors.

“No...to your relief, I’m sure,” she said, playfully. “I thought since we’re doing a bit of traveling, you would prefer something comfortable. Riding in a carriage for long periods of time can be...frankly, not much fun. And, in this instance, trousers would not be inappropriate attire.” She stood with her back to her as she spoke and, only after turning around to step away from the armoire, did Sarah realize that she was also wearing pants. 

She was donned in a short-sleeved, shiny, silk coat of a light blue hue, which had tails that fell to just an inch or so above the floor. Sarah had assumed it was a skirt, which made the reveal of her charcoal colored leggings and knee-high boots a genuine surprise. She’d never seen Marie in pants before -aside from workout gear anyway. The dark silhouette of her lower body emphasized her long, thin legs, and the abrupt cut of her coat made her pinched waist look even tinier. Damn. She’d make one hell of a model in the Aboveground.

“Sweet,” Sarah said, and bundled up her materials before heading back into the bathroom.

Today her outfit was a pair of navy blue leggings with grey riding boots. There were an excessive number of hooks to be laced, which took her several minutes to weave on each boot. Her blouse was a pale silver with shimmery blue threads sewn within. It was well fitted, and turned into ruffles at the hips that hung loose down to about her mid thigh. The sleeves were cinched at the shoulders and hung in the same loose tatters. It was an odd sense of fashion, that was for sure, but still flattered her all the same. She exited the bathroom to find Mariella offering her a pair of silver wrist bands.

“Here, I think these will match nicely. I also found a lovely little hair piece, if you don’t mind?”

Sarah, wanting to be the best queen she could possibly be, nodded and sat on the edge of the bed while Marie had her way with her hair. 

“Do you think they’re waiting on us?” Sarah asked. She could feel Marie’s fingers coming through her hair, and a slight pinch from a pin that was pushed into place. 

“Oh, probably. Though there’s little to do about it now,” Mariella replied. Sarah grinned. She never really acknowledged how _ considerate _Jareth was when it came to working around her schedule. It always seemed, even when it was important, she was allowed to take her sweet ass time. Mariella pulled her hands away, which was a signal to Sarah that she was finished. She stood from the bed and walked away to look herself over in the vanity mirror. “Are you sure you’re not hungry?” 

Sarah paused and glanced back.

“Not really...I’ll take an apple for the road though,” she said -if only to appease Marie. She left the vanity and picked up a suitcase she’d had at the foot of the bed.

“Oh, did the goblins miss one? Shall I have them stow that for you?” Marie asked. Sarah shook her head.

“No. No, this is my carry-on. I figured it’s probably going to get pretty boring after a couple of hours, so I packed some things to do on the ride,” she explained. 

“Right. Well, allow me to carry it for you then,” Mariella said and, while she was indeed a servant, Sarah knew it was not a request. She handed over the suitcase without a fuss, and, after snagging an apple each, they were no sooner heading out the door. 

Roldan stood at the base of the courtyard stairs as he read through a checklist, waving a finger here and there in wordless direction to goblins scurrying about. Jareth stood beside him, his arms crossed as he appreciated the view of his city.

“I still can’t believe you let her con you like that,” Roldan grumbled, peering up briefly every now and then to make sure everything was being loaded as it should be. Jareth, grinning with all the brightness of the sun, laughed softly to himself.

“It’s rude to eavesdrop. Besides, what are you complaining for? It’s good to get out of the castle every now and again.”

Roldan paused and gave Jareth a sarcastic side-eye.

“...Said the hermit to the recluse.” 

Jareth started to laugh again, and then both were distracted by a very obnoxious bit of bounding down the stairs behind them. They turned around to be greeted by a wide and cheerful smile. 

“Good morning!” Sarah said, hopping down to their level and effectively pushing them apart as she came to stand between the two. She had Mariella in tow, though her descent had been much more graceful. She moved to the side of Roldan, and bowed to Jareth.

“Good morning, Sire. Good morning, Master Roldan.” 

Jareth, forgetting the two of them existed at all, uncrossed his arms and smiled down at Sarah.

“I see you’ve made it. I was beginning to worry,” he said, and placed a hand on his hip. Sarah raised a sassy brow and rolled her eyes away.

“I don’t know how many times I’ve asked for an alarm clock. My poor punctuality is all on you,” she said, dismissively, and turned to Roldan and Marie. “Is everything ready?”

Roldan shrugged and read through his ledger once more.

“So it would seem. As always, we wait only on you, Your Majesty,” he said, with only slightly less sarcasm than she was used to. 

“Best not waste any more time then. I’ll go put this in your cabin,” Mariella said, and scooted off to a carriage that stood in the front of a line of three. Sarah inspected them all quickly, and took particular notice of how _ plain _ they all were. That was...unexpected. 

“What’s up with this?” she asked, drawing her brow and turning back to Jareth. The sun was behind him, which illuminated the pale blond of his hair in a kind of halo around his face. She hadn’t noticed it at first, and now felt a teeny, tiny hitch in her breath as she stared at him. He was looking away, allowing her to view him in profile, and she took that brief moment to regard the rest of his appearance.

Today, his hair was pulled back, hanging in a low ponytail that much of his hair fell loose from to frame his face. He wore a cream colored tunic, the sleeves of which were rolled up past the elbow and were cinched with little ties that had colored beads dangling at the end. Over this was a gold and bronze waistcoat boasting very intricate floral patterns in matching beadwork. His pants were brown with a black leather stripe running down each side, and he wore heavy riding boots -equal in fanciness to her own. They had lots of ties and buckles which were, presumably, all decorative. He wore his gold pendant prominently over his bare chest and, as he shifted his left hand on his hip, she noted he was still wearing his wedding band. Why she was always so keenly aware of this fact, she wasn’t sure. He’d never taken it off after first putting it on, and she had a hard time figuring out why that meant so much to her. 

She tore her eyes away from the glint on his hand and focused on what he was saying.

“This is our caravan,” Jareth said, gesturing dramatically across the land as if she were dumb. Sarah rolled her eyes. 

“Yeah. I meant, why does it look so run-down?” she asked. There were no fancy adornments here. No gilded trim or twisty metal flourish. There was also no military procession. No mounted steads with brightly colored banners waving in the breeze. No cheering crowd jittering on the sidelines... 

“Run-down?”

“Yeah. The last two times I went out it was a damn fanfare. This is the first time you and I have traveled through the city together. I guess I just expected more excitement.” 

Her eyes continued to roam up and down the length of the courtyard. There were only a few goblins here. Seven, she counted. Most of whom had finished loading luggage and were now idling on their benches as they waited for them to board. Another odd detail Sarah picked up on, was that their carriages were not to be pulled by horses, but rather those strange wooly beasts she’d learned were called Banthas. Knowing Jareth to be the very proud King that he was, this did not seem right at all. 

“Parades attract attention,” Jareth said, and she turned her focus back to him (By now, Mariella had returned and was now chatting up Roldan). “Since you are recalling such details,” he added. Sarah pursed her lips. 

“And that’s bad?” she asked. Jareth crossed his arms once more.

“No...I simply don’t like it. There are occasions when I must endure being preened over by the public, but this is not one. I’d prefer we maintain discretion. Especially when we exit the city.” 

“So we’re traveling incognito?” she asked, raising a brow. Jareth huffed.

“Exactly.”

Well, that certainly explained the lack of horses. She was still curious about the guards though…

“Are we not being escorted by the Guard either?” she asked. Jareth peered down at her pretentiously.

“They are not needed,” he said, matter-of-factly. “If you haven’t noticed, I can take care of myself. You have nothing to fear, so long as you are with me.” 

He spoke plainly but Sarah couldn't help but project something ominous into that last sentence. Yes, so long as she was_ with him _. Realizing she was indeed still wearing a figurative leash, she now wondered just how short he intended to keep it. 

“Right…”

“Are you two ready yet?” Roldan asked, calling over to them. Sarah turned and looked at both him and Marie. “As much as I enjoy baking in the sun, I think I’d prefer getting a move on.” He spoke at them scoldingly, as if she’d been_ wasting so much precious time _ asking stupid questions. Sarah glared a little.

“You might have better luck taking off that jacket, Roldan. Black on black doesn’t pair well with eighty-five and sunny,” she said, and turned her nose up at him. Honestly, it seemed like all the man owned was a variety of black jackets and vests. Combined with those gloves and the starched-white shirt he kept buttoned all the way to his throat, she was surprised he hadn’t yet passed out. 

“She does have a point,” Jareth added, just to be an ass. Roldan scowled and looked away, dismissing them both as he took a step towards the carriages.

“At your leisure then,” he said, and then offered a hand to Mariella. “May we?” She nodded and accepted the gesture, allowing him to escort her to what was, apparently, their carriage (second in line behind her and Jareth’s). Sarah found that interesting. For some reason she thought they’d all be riding together. 

“He seems grumpy,” Sarah mumbled, absently. Jareth laced his arm with hers and pulled her forward. 

“Naturally.” 

He opened the door to their carriage and ushered her in. She bent forward as she climbed inside and sat on what turned out to be a very plush bench. She glanced around as Jareth followed and sat across from her. It was a little strange. The inside definitely did not match the outside. 

The seats were upholstered in crushed red velvet, and gold, glittery linen draped from the ceiling. The same fabric was used as curtains, and was tied back from the windows with red and gold silk rope. The wood construction on the inside was more familiar to her: varnished, carved, and neatly polished. There were shelves above her head with metal grating that housed her suitcase, along with several other parcels. There were even a couple throw pillows on either side of her. Sarah sat back and bounced a little on the squishy cushion. 

Jareth, having just closed the door behind him, pounded a fist against the wall in a signal to proceed.

The carriage jerked forward and, without any ceremony at all, they were off. 

“What’s in that third carriage?” she asked.

“Supplies. Unless we come across an inn, we’ll be camping out the first night.”

“Oh.” and her brow lifted in surprise. She hadn’t realized they’d be _ camping _. Well that sounded kind of fun. Now she was excited all over again. She scooted over towards a window and spied on the town. As desired, now that they were out of the Capital Square, none of the townsfolk paid any attention to them. “I still find it surprising that you don’t want to draw attention. As flashy as you are.”

Jareth cracked a smirk and leaned back, crossed his arms, and rested an ankle over his knee. 

“My sense of flare is for the gratification of myself, not others,” he said. Sarah nodded. “Though this also serves a practical purpose. We’ll be crossing the Barrens. It can be dangerous out in the open like that. Best not come off as someone eager to be robbed.” 

Sarah tore her eyes away from the city street and looked at Jareth worriedly.

“What? You just said we were perfectly safe.”

“We are,” he confirmed, with a shrug. “That doesn’t mean such things would not pose a nuisance. I’d rather not deal with it at all.” His eyes roamed towards the window and hers lowered over him. He seemed casual enough... 

“Hm…” she murmured, refusing to imagine the possibility of being attacked by brigands, and instead focused on the highlights of their journey ahead. “So, what’s our itinerary then?”

There was a bump in the road, which caused Jareth to have to readjust his legs. 

“It will be about a day and a half ride to Lord Eines estate,” he started, and turned his gaze back to her after he was situated. “We’ll travel the rest of today day and then camp at nightfall. We’ll pick back up in the morning and, hopefully, get there just in time for supper.”

“I see. Then what?”

“The next morning we will survey the town of Sulana. It is the largest in the district, as well as the one most heavily damaged.” He uncrossed his arms and tucked a tendril of hair behind his ear, an action which had Sarah briefly wondering what he’d look like with an earring. Attractive. Definitely attractive. “I’m told renovations are nearly complete. So it’s quite trivial, really. After that, there are some things I’ll need to see to on my own. We’ll stay another night with Eines; I’m sure he has a _ lovely _reception planned for us with the neighboring landlords, and then we’ll leave the following morning.”

Sarcasm existed not only in his words, but on his face too as he imagined just what a _ lovely _night it would be. Sarah frowned a little, still not understanding why he seemed to hate being around people so much. 

“What do you need to do on your own?” she asked, deflecting. 

“Sulana sits directly on the border between here and Erastor. There is a barrier separating the two. Every century or so, the barrier weakens and some terrible creature crosses over to wreak havoc on my people. I need to...recharge it, if you will,” he explained. Sarah nodded. 

“Interesting,” she said, her voice trailing off contemplatively. “So...that would be magical transference, combined with physical spellcasting?” 

Jareth’s brow rose high up his face, and he smiled.

“Indeed,” he said, a little surprised and admittedly pleased. This was a feeling reflected in Sarah, as she smiled smugly to herself. His grin curled on one side, and he leaned forward to place both feet on the floor. “I’m glad you’ve been paying attention.”

“Yeah, well, you’re a much more captivating professor than Roldan,” she replied, with amusement. Seriously, even his tests were _ engaging _... “Speaking of magic…” she carried on, lest she get distracted by such lewdness so early in the day, and sat up on her knees as she turned around and began reaching for her suitcase. She pulled it forward and unlatched it, fumbling through its contents for a folded piece of paper. She sat back down with it, and Jareth watched her curiously. She unfolded the parchment to reveal a map of the Goblin Kingdom. “Can you explain to me how you’re figuring less than two days time for this journey?” she asked, inspecting the drawing with befuddlement. “According to this, Sulu is just about as far away from the Capital as Fyrn is. And you said it takes three months to get there.”

Having failed to angle the map so Jareth could view it as well, he had to lean forward before responding.

“It’s the lipsgates,” he said, and reached over to press a finger to the paper. Suddenly, a series of dots began to light up the map like stars. “There are significantly fewer gates leading to the north, as you can see.”

Sarah sat back and stared at the paper. There were dozens of dots. Maybe even more. Tiny, glowing, pin-pricks that stippled the paper to the point of rendering it unreadable. Except for the north anyway. No, there were only a few in a staggered line leading straight to Fyrn.

“Why?” she asked. Jareth shrugged.

“No one wants to go there,” he said, plainly. “The majority of gates were constructed during the time of Orpus. Back then, people were more actively afraid of the creatures that lurk beyond those mountains. Over the years, more gates have been added to routes that support a higher level of commerce,” he explained. As Sarah’s eyes traveled along the dots on the map, she realized the constellations they painted followed the main roads connecting to the other six kingdoms. 

“But...doesn’t all of our timber and mineral exports come from Fyrn?” she asked, and he remarked on the way she’d said _ our _. He leaned back in his seat and wove a hand through the air.

“Yes...but that implies we rely on export revenue. Sadly, we do not.”

“Hm...which is why you’re building the canal,” she added. Her eyes still scanned the paper viciously. So darn passionate. It made him smile, and brought warmth to his chest just watching her. One day, she would know the kingdom better than he did. He could not wait for the progress they would make together. “Can you show me where that is?” she asked, distracting him. He leaned forward again and touched the paper. The little dots faded, and in their place a light blue line lit from the Athom Sea, which crossed over into Yore, and followed the rivers, all the way to the Omni Gulf. Having no real idea of the scope of the project until just now, she actually sat back a little in awe. It really did split the continent in two. “When is the opening again?”

“In a few weeks,” Jareth said, and inhaled deeply. “You’ll have to ask Roldan for the exact date.” 

Sarah stared back down at the paper, only now her hands gripped it a little tighter.

“Are we...are we going to that too?” she asked. She sounded tentative but it was too subtle for Jareth to pick up on. He’d gone back to staring out the window again. 

“It is expected of us, so yes,” he said, and then tilted his head a little. “Although...we’ll actually be crossing it in a couple of hours. Suppose we’ll have a sneak peak of it.” He was right. According to this map, the canal connected with the base of the Rhil river in the north, which was actually very close to the Capital. 

“Have you thought about expanding it to connect with the Garrymon river in Erastor? Or even Oaken’tah in Jeju…” she mused, biting her lip as she stared at the map. This was, however, a map only of the Goblin Kingdom, which meant her question was based on actual knowledge she’d retained from her lessons. Wow. Jareth’s smile just kept getting bigger.

“Not yet,” he said, with restraint. Sarah, however, did not pick up on the throbbing of his ego at all and glanced up to him with a dead stare.

“I still can’t quite believe how nonchalant you are about this,” she said. He bit his tongue.

“Why?”

“It just...seems like one of those things that define a monarch’s reign. What you’re doing is going to be monumental to the economy,” she said. Jareth’s heart nearly burst with pride. “So where is the opening going to be held? I assume there will be a ribbon cutting?”

“There will be local celebrations held at every lock,” he said, raking his eyes over what little he could see of her face as she held the map up in front of her. “However, we, along with Bryce and his family, will hold a formal opening here, in Erykberg,” he added, and pointed at a spot on the back of the map. It lit for her on the other side. It was a point at the northern border of the Athom Sea, between the two kingdoms. That made sense. 

“Oh...right,” she mumbled, distractedly. Mention of Bryce brought back something she’d been secretly fretting about over the last few days. Fortunately, or perhaps not, this seemed like as good a time as any to get it out of the way. “Say, um...I haven’t bothered bringing it up but...am I still going to tea with Delphine?” she asked, completely changing topic. She lowered the map and looked Jareth in the eye. “I’m supposed to meet with her next week. Should be the day after we get back from this trip. I know you said I’m still on lockdown so...I was wondering if I should write to her and postpone,” she said, trying to sound as impartial as possible while, in reality, she was already feeling disappointed.

Jareth regarded the look on her face, and took a moment to ponder. She looked a little nervous, though not as nervous as she’d been in making her requests the previous day. That was progress he supposed, or maybe she was just worried about pressing her luck. Regardless, it was something he was now responsible for. Honestly, he’d completely forgotten about that playdate. He’d been so thoroughly preoccupied with Liana and thoughts of apocalypse, that it seemed Roldan was right -it was a wonder anything was getting done. And then he thought of something else Roldan had said, about the impression he would make with her if he rescinded her punishment so prematurely. He wanted her to take her own safety seriously, and he wanted her to respect his authority over the matter. She’d been...extremely well-behaved this week and, he was not neanderthal enough to completely overlook it as a potential manipulation. Still, even if it was strictly for his benefit, it was still _ for his benefit _. She was trying to please him, which was more than he ever really expected. It made him want to coddle her. It made him want to give her the world on a silver platter. Damn. Roldan was right. Maybe he was becoming all bark.

He sighed through his nose and angled his head down at her.

“Let’s try to get through this next adventure without catastrophe first, and we’ll see.” If she knew how easy she was to toy with, she would have called him on his bluff. However, as she was, at heart, still a petulant little thing, she only locked her jaw and glared away with well-combated defiance.

“Fine,” she said, curtly, barely caring to hide her annoyance over the parental tone he’d just taken with her. Maybe he’d spank her if she threw a fit. Maybe it’d be worth it. Oh geez. What the hell kind of thought was that? Between ‘Professor’ and ‘Daddy’, Sarah realized she was approaching a very dangerous pitfall of fetishistic oblivion that she, _ not he _, would be inevitably casting herself into. Best keep these musings to herself, she thought. Best Jareth not find out at all. He would have a fucking field day. 

Needing to distract herself, once again, from her own twisted perversions, her eyes flickered down to the sharp light that glinted off of Jareth’s pendant.

“Is that necklace important to you?” she asked. Jareth, having wandered off in thought during the break in conversation, glanced down to his chest reflexively. 

“Not particularly. Why?” he responded. Sarah shrugged.

“I didn’t know if it was a family heirloom, or something.”

“I have a few versions of this. It’s simply the sigil of the Goblin Throne. I have little use for heirlooms,” he said, though such plainly spoken words were betrayed by her knowledge of his inner angst. Right. As if Jareth would ever tote around something that had once belonged to his father. 

“I see...can I have one too?” 

Jareth looked up and eyed her curiously. 

“You want one?” he asked, as if that were surprising. Sarah pursed her lips.

“Why not? I am Queen, right? Although….it might be weird wearing two necklaces…” she mumbled, her voice fading as she looked downward and fiddled the pendant of her necklace. 

“About that-” Jareth said. She peered up. “You don’t have to worry about such things anymore.”

“What do you mean?” He was staring at her more intently, like he was holding something back on the tip of his tongue. Sarah drew her brow on him a little as he shifted in his spot. 

“The...enchantments I put in your ring are profound,” he started, then pointed at her necklace. “It’s rendered the one in your necklace redundant, if not obsolete. You need not wear it so religiously anymore,” he explained. Sarah blinked. 

“Oh. Okay. Well, isn’t it good to have a back-up? What if-”

“I also enchanted the ring to be locked on your person,” he interrupted. Sarah, instinctively alarmed, found her left hand recoiling towards her chest.

“What?”

“It will not come off. Have you not yet noticed?”

Eyes flickering down, Sarah immediately tried to pull the ring off of her finger. No, she hadn’t tried taking it off since he’d given it back to her. Wedding bands were meant to be worn at all times after all. But that-

For some reason, she was surprised when the ring wouldn’t budge. Feeling suddenly offended, she glared up at him.

“Why would you-”

“I did not want to risk it slipping off your finger and getting lost, more so you suffering some pointless tragedy because of it,” he cut her off again. Sarah, wanting to argue that her civil rights had somehow been violated, shut her open mouth. _ Pointless _ was the key word there. She wasn’t planning on taking the ring off, and certainly wasn’t planning on leaving herself exposed to another situation like the Herdsman. So, the thing that would be _ pointless _was the argument she wanted to start. Still. He could have mentioned it would become a permanent part of her body before she slipped it back on her finger. The thing was heavy and kind of sharp. -And on this point she did reproach him.

“You could have given me a heads up. Do you know how annoying it is to try and put on a pair of gloves?” she asked, with irritation, and fingered the central diamond as her hands lowered back to her lap. Jareth, not playing into her rhetorical display, only stared at her sternly. 

“No. And neither did I think it mattered.”

“Of course not,” she snapped back. Her arms crossed, and she turned her head sharply to glare out the window. Her heavily weighted ring finger tapped restlessly against her bicep and she acknowledged, albeit begrudgingly, that her anger with him was completely hollow. Damn hormones. She’d probably start bleeding any day now. “How long until we stop for lunch?” she asked, changing the subject. Jareth leaned forward towards the window to stare at the sun, and Sarah wondered if it would have just been easier to carry a watch.

“A few hours. You may want to settle in,” he said, carefully teasing. He watched as she turned around and started rummaging through her bag again. She had to kneel on the edge of her bench to do so, which allowed him to appreciate, in well-mannered silence of course, her round little ass as it was squeezed so tightly into her leggings. He almost reached out and pinched her just to see her glare back at him, but wisely refrained. She stowed away the map, and came back down with the book he’d given her the previous day and...an apple?

She flipped through the first few pages and slouched back in her seat. 

“To chapter ten, right?” she asked. Jareth subdued the twitch of a grin. Such an _ eager _pupil. 

“Yes.”

“Great. Let me know when it’s time for lunch,” she said, dismissing his presence entirely as she took an obnoxious bite from her apple.

* * *

As promised, several hours passed before their first pit-stop. They’d crossed the canal. Which was, literally, just a bridge over a river and was not at all as impressive as she’d imagined it would be. But now they were, according to Sarah’s calculations, somewhere within the Sien district well within the Barrens and approximately a quarter way through their journey. Progress was to be determined by lipsgates, she was told, not actual mileage. Otherwise, she’d have said they were still fairly close to the Capital. 

The Barrens was, as described, a vast, flat sea of tall grass. Sea was a very apt analogy, as the highlight from the sun moved rhythmically as the wind undulated the grass in quiet, boundless waves. It was actually extremely beautiful and peaceful to watch. There wasn’t a single sound. Not of birds, or insects, or people. Just the scenery. Limitless and idle. 

A goblin had opened the door for them and Sarah stepped down first. To her surprise, Mariella was already skipping towards her with a mystery basket in tow.

“Who's ready for our picnic?!” 

Because the entire trip was contrived, it only made sense that every scenario that composed it would also be. This helped Sarah feel not so guilty over the stupid level of weirdness that was the four of them sitting in a field, on a blanket, with an actual-to-God wicker basket, snacking on toothpick sandwiches and fruit salad. 

Mariella had prepared this herself, she’d said. Very early that morning before even the kitchen staff had awoken. 

“So...who is Lord Eines again?” Sarah asked, while sucking watermelon juice from her thumb. “I met him at the engagement party, right?”

“Yes,” Jareh replied, fingering through the platter of fruit for a grape that was fit to his standards. “He was, as you said, _ the young one with the weird smile _.” 

“Oh. Right,” she said, and ate another piece. “He seemed nice. I think that’s why I thought it was so weird. He seemed really happy to meet me.”

“I imagine he was.”

“Who wouldn’t be happy to meet you, Sarah. Honestly,” Mariella said, with total sincerity. Both Sarah and Roldan laughed -though for different reasons.

“Anything I should know about him before we get there?” she asked, eyeing Roldan as she, so magnanimously, let the insult go. She instead turned back to Jareth. “You have too many lords to keep track of.”

“I agree,” Jareth said, and stared down into his wine flute as he swirled it around. “Hence why I keep Roldan so close at parties.”

“Eines is the landlord over the Sulu, Vanti, and Gead districts,” Roldan said, staring at Jareth with irritation as Sarah turned her attention back to him. “-though you may hear them referred to as burroughs. They are all very small farming communities, which is why they’ve been grouped together under his protection. There are only a handful of towns scattered between the three. Some little more than a fork in the mud,” he continued. Sarah plopped one piece of watermelon into her mouth after another. “I think you’ll be surprised when we get there. Sulana is a very different place from the Goblin City, and it’s the most urban of them all.”

“That sounds nice, actually. Spending a few days out in the country-” 

“Hmph-”

Sarah turned back to Jareth, whose huff of laughter was less than nonchalant.

“What?” she asked. Jareth grinned and tipped his glass at Roldan.

“_ A nice country holiday _. Does such a thing exist, Roldan?” he asked, tongue-in-cheek. Sarah looked back at Roldan just as he scowled and rolled his eyes.

“In the minds of some, I suppose.”

“Master Roldan, do you not like the countryside?” Marie asked. 

“Dislike is an understatement. He _ hates _the country,” Jareth answered, finishing his glass and then combing a hand through his bangs. 

“Oh no. Whyever so?”

Roldan closed his eyes and shuddered a little.

“Because it’s filthy. Nothing but mud, and shit, and poorly carved meat, and people who can barely lace their own boots let alone form a provoking thought.” 

Sarah frowned, a look that Jareth caught out of the corner of his eye.

“Don’t listen to him, he’s just projecting more of his own self-loathing. For were you not one such bumpkin, once upon a time?” he asked, maintaining a challenging gaze as he held out his glass -which Roldan wordlessly refilled.

“What?” Sarah asked. Roldan, grumbling as he’d never grumbled before, bit on his pride as he debated whether or not to play Jareth’s game. 

Opting for the path of less strife, he turned to Sarah and tore off the band-aid.

“As Jareth implies, my parents were from a village similar to Sulana, yes. My mother was a maid and my father was a baker. I was born after they’d pledged themselves to Jareth’s parents, which meant I was born into servitude. Being selected as Jareth’s attendant as a child, I was privy to both walks of life. And thus, I assure you, my prejudice is well justified.” 

There was a quickness, and a sharpness, to his words that implied he wished the topic resolved as soon as possible. Of course, this only made Sarah more interested. What had he experienced that made him so jaded against his upbringing? Surely a peasant’s life wasn’t that bad? 

“Oh. Well, I can’t comment on the class system in this world, but I was a peasant in the Aboveground. And I’m perfectly capable of tying my own boots.”

Roldan stared at her for a moment, and then cracked a grin as he huffed. He glanced away and took a sip of his drink.

“You certainly know how to carry a provoking thought as well,” he mumbled. Sarah, pursing her lips to stifle a grin, turned to look at Jareth as he nudged her with his elbow.

“You _ are _filthy though.”

Sarah laughed and shoved him back.

* * *

  
  


Lunch progressed to a pleasant end and soon they were back on the road. Sarah had asked to change their seating arrangements. She wanted to chat with Marie for a bit. This was a request Jareth had outright ignored. 

They talked idly in a way that had become too natural too quickly, poking fun and trading tiny details about one another that was a sign of an otherwise _ normal _relationship. She didn’t think about it. Just enjoyed it. Even when they came close to bickering, which was often, being trapped together in that tiny box, she did not want it to end. 

The remainder of the day passed quickly and, all of the sudden, it was pitch black outside their window. Jareth had informed they were nowhere near a town, so they would be stopping shortly to make camp for the night. There was a strange luminescence in their cabin, something magical that had no source, and their drivers were now guided by floating torches. Looking out the window became eerie. It was like looking at a painted wall. She’d never seen a blackness so heavy. It actually made her want to close the curtains. 

“So, is Roldan just ashamed of his heritage? Or did something happen to make him so prissy?”

Jareth chuckled and rested an arm along the open window.

“A heavy mixture of both, I presume,” he said, with amusement. “Though I will admit, he was bullied quite a bit growing up. He was kept close to Davion and I’s sides while never allowed to actually engage in what we were doing. Always reminded of his place. I imagine that’s caused him to have a bit of genuine resentment.”

“Towards his people? Wouldn’t it make more sense to resent you?” she asked. Jareth shrugged.

“But we had culture,” he said, flatly. “We had books, art, and music. Things he could still learn and sneak away with. What did his family have to offer? Stale bread and a limited vocabulary.” 

“Hm…” She hummed, contemplatively, and glanced to the side. 

“Although, I do consider myself a progressive leader. The state of the lower classes is, objectively, much better than it was in Roldan’s day.” He sounded very pleased with himself, which had Sarah biting on a smile as she spied him from her peripheral. He caught the look and locked onto it. “Though such things were not achieved without a very ornery bug in my ear. Don’t ever tell him I said this, but Roldan holds more sway than he thinks.”

“I guess he has done well for himself then. I kind of wish he’d enjoy it more.”

“Oh, he does.”

There was something of mischief in his voice that begged her attention.

“Yeah? When?” she asked, challengingly. Jareth arched a brow and his eyes narrowed.

“When you’re not around.” 

She held his gaze and narrowed her own eyes, but he won in the end. She ended up turning away sharply to conceal her spiteful smile.

“Whatever…” she mumbled, the corners of her mouth curling as she shook her head. She was staring out the window now, and her expression twitched when something now flickered into view. She moved closer towards the window and focused her eyes on it. “Hey...what is that?” she asked. Jareth, equally curious, moved to join her. 

It was a light. A faint orange glow. It looked far off, but the curved road they traveled seemed to be leading them directly to it. It came into view quickly and took the form of a raging fire. “Is...someone having a bonfire?” 

She turned to look at Jareth, who was also staring out the window intently. They were both leaning in together, which brought their faces closer than they’d been all day. He was holding back a curtain with a finger, and turned to look at her before answering her question.

“Indeed.”

Sarah gripped the frame of the window and leaned forward a little more. The glow from the flames brightened the solid night well enough to reveal a stack of smoke that rose into the sky. As they traveled around it, closer to it, she could see shapes and shadows passing in front of it. They looked like buildings. But...wait...no.

“Wow, look at all those carriages and tents,” she said, her eyes finally piecing together the negative spaces between wheel spokes and tension cables. Yes. Those were definitely tents. And a lot of them from the look of it. The fire rose twice as high and filled some of the tents closest to it with a warm pulsing hue. Sarah’s eyes widened with intrigue. “Looks like Burning Man,” she mumbled. Jareth glanced at her confusedly. “It’s a festival in the Aboveground,” she clarified. This didn’t seem to help him any.

“They make merry by_ burning men _in your world?” he asked, sounding both dubious and excited. “And you say this realm is absurd.”

“What? No. No, it’s a sculpture,” she said, pulling away from the window just a bit so her arms could aid in her narrative. She lifted them up and held them wide. “Like, a really big sculpture of a man that they light on fire. I think it’s meant to celebrate the solstice, or something.”

Jareth stared at her skeptically, as if he couldn’t believe their two worlds might actually share a custom. After a moment he glanced away again, still very much interested in whatever it was they were approaching. 

“Hm...well, you’re not far off,” he said, and then leaned away from the window entirely. He sat up straight and faced her. “Though the solstice was some weeks ago. I believe what they’re celebrating now is Lughnasa.”

“Lug-nas-what?” Sarah asked. Jareth cocked a one-sided grin. They could hear voices growing in the background now, indistinct, and not as far off as she’d thought.

“Come now, I’m really starting to suspect whatever it was you and Roldan were actually doing all those hours on all those days,” he said, and she glared in offense. “It is a holiday marking the start of the harvest,” he continued, and then casually pointed at the tiny, dancing fae silhouettes that were just now coming into view. “And _ that _is a troupe of Alvari.”

“Alvari?” Sarah repeated, staring at him in bewilderment as he leaned back and then pounded on the carriage wall. The carriage came to an abrupt halt, which nearly sent her falling to her knees. Jareth, now crouching forward as he reached for the cabin door, gave her a very excited kind of smile.

“Shall we investigate?” he asked, and hopped out into the night.

“Wait- what?” Sarah called after him, lurching and then hesitating and then stumbling her way out of the carriage and into the darkness behind him. Thankfully, the roaring fire up ahead was enough to grant her bearings. She scurried after him, and jerked on his sleeve until he turned back. “_ Jareth?! What are you doing? Where the hell are you going?! _” she whisper-yelled, keeping her shoulders hunched as if they might be caught. They had to be well within fifty yards of the camp. Seriously, he was just going to casually stroll through? What the heck? 

Before Jareth could respond, or Sarah berate him further, she was distracted by the sound of the second carriage door opening. Mariella stepped down first, and Roldan followed. 

Marie looked confused. Roldan took a few steps, looked ahead at the gathering, and then sighed.

“Ah. I should have known,” he said, placing a casual hand on his hip. Sarah’s eyes widened a little.

“Should have known what?” she asked. Mariella, who had presumably been sleeping, rubbed at her eyes as she blinked at their surroundings. She wandered off a little into the void, but they were all still standing within close distance of one another. 

“Goodness, are these Alvari?” Mariella asked. Again Sarah worried over that word. “I’ve only ever read about them. Lord Davion says they are simply riveting. Are we really joining? Oh, how fun!” Her spirits perked up quickly and it seemed Sarah was the only one considering proceeding with a modicum of caution.

“What the hell is an Alvari?” she asked, and then clawed a hand around Jareth’s forearm, urging his attention. He was just staring out at the fire. “_ Jareth!” _

“Oh shush, don’t be so skittish,” he chided, turning back to her with that same excited smile. That look always unnerved her, for it was usually more dastardly than it seemed. Sarah scowled but he ignored it. “I told you, you’re perfectly safe with me.”

“Okay, but who are these people and why are we about to whimsically swoop in and crash their party?” she asked, beside herself. Jareth chuckled but didn’t answer. Instead he took hold of her hand, and jerked her behind him, as he resumed his pursuit. Roldan and Marie immediately followed, the latter fae now quietly giggling with glee.

“The Alvari are a nomadic tribe,” Roldan said, coming to walk in stride with Sarah. “They travel the whole of Orpia spreading the old religion,” he continued, to Sarah’s appreciation. She glanced over at him as Jareth slowed his pace to walk in line with her as well. Mariella skipped ahead to lace her arm with Roldan’s. 

“Oh?” Sarah asked, confusedly. She’d never once heard of this.

“Yes. They are also fond of a good party,” Mariella added. 

“Indeed,” Jareth concurred. Sensing something potentially leading in his response, Sarah looked up at him to find he was smiling down at her wickedly. She blanched. “You may find them a bit crude but I assure you, they’re harmless,” he carried on, urging her ever-forward in teeny, tiny steps. The voices were louder now, separated as laughter, and singing, and maybe even a couple moans. She could see a few bodies throwing themselves widely in proximity to the fire and they...did not look to be clothed. Oh. So maybe this _ was _ like Burning Man. Sarah found herself now drawing to a halt. Jareth paused and threw her a wink. “And the best part? They _ never _refuse a guest.”

If that was supposed to sell her on the impulse, he did a terrible fucking job. Sarah jerked her hand out of his and planted a foot firmly on the ground. Her three fae companions, totally ignorant of her quaint human plight, turned to face her expectantly. 

“Whoa. Just hold on there a minute bucko,” she said, holding up a hand to Jareth and taking a deep breath through her nose. “Does anyone want to tell me a little bit more about what’s happening? Or maybe even just ask my consent first?”

Mariella, feeling oh-so-inconsiderate, stepped forward with a hand placed to her mouth.

“Oh how foolish. Are you still feeling ill? It is getting late. Perhaps you’d rather rest?” she asked. Both Jareth and Roldan stared at Mariella perplexedly, and Sarah shook her head.

“What? No, I am not ill. Would you get off that? I’d just like to know what it is we’re about to barrel ourselves into,” she said, and gestured at the fire beyond them. “How do you know they won’t mind us just casually barging in?”

The three fae exchanged brief glances and then looked back at Sarah. Marie’s hand had lowered from her mouth but was now held close to her chest tentatively.

“Well...because they’re Alvari,” she said, as if having no other way to explain. Sarah shook her head in exasperation.

“Sarah,” Jareth said, calling her attention. She successfully suppressed her long desired huff, and looked up at him. “The Alvari are a group of fae who follow the old ways. Their mission is to enlighten the minds of modern society back into the arms of Nature. They are naturally pacifists, and believe in pleasure and the expression of love above all else. They will welcome us with open arms. It is their way.”

So they were hippies? Great. And on a separate note, did not all fae worship Nature? Hm.

“And you’re so eager to join them that you practically skipped your way out of the carriage without me because?” she asked, alluding that her offense stemmed not from the event itself, but from his inconsiderate decision making. She placed her hands on her hips and awaited an answer expectantly. 

“Because it will be fun,” he said, lightheartedly, and pulled free one of her angry little hands and raised it to his mouth. He stared down at her with a glimmer in his eye, or she imagined one anyway. It was damn near impossible to see any of them in this blackness. She could, however, feel the heat of his breath against her knuckles perfectly as he said, “I promise.”

Her fingers curled around his, betraying her on a biological level, as that phrase sent all kinds of excited shivers running down her spine. She peered over at Roldan and Mariella, who were watching her with boredom and worry accordingly, then back at Jareth as she exhaled through her nose. They were all still standing in the middle of the field, and she knew this was as close as he would get to asking her _ permission _. She narrowed her eyes in the dark, and then gripped his hand as she roughly jerked him forward.

“Fine. But this better not be another orgy,” she grumbled, and stomped away. 

  
  


* * *

  
  


By the time they crossed the perimeter of the furthermost tents, Sarah was no longer at the front of the pack, but had fallen to cling, rather sheepishly, slightly behind Jareth. Mariella was beside her, Roldan behind Mariella -as was custom- and together the four of them strolled quietly through the barracks. 

This felt wrong. Like they were sneaking. But no, she was the only one with her head lowered. Everyone else looked right at home. She could finally see again. There were torches staked in the ground, and oil lamps illuminating the inside of the tents. As they passed, she spied on the blurred shadows of furniture and people. She was feeling nervous. She was the only one who had no idea how to act. Above their heads, many of the tents and caravans were connected by strings of lights. They must have been fueled by magic, as there was no electricity in the Underground, but the familiarity it brought her was uncanny all the same.

The grass covering the field was tall and had been leveled, not cut, in what she assumed was a perfect circle on which the camp stood. It made the ground soft and cushioned beneath her feet. An odd sensation, as her boots sunk unevenly into the heavily layered grass with every step. 

There were a lot of moths fluttering about. Large, terrifying looking things that were also incredibly beautiful. They were white and furry, with fanned feelers and pitch black eyes painted on their wings. They danced between the strings above their heads. As Sarah’s eyes inspected them closer, it seemed as if their markings changed expressions with every new angle. Sad. Happy. Afraid. That was...strange. 

After a couple of minutes, they came to the center of the camp. This area was clear of tents, allowing a radius of maybe thirty feet of open space between them and the bonfire. The grass here was doused with sand, which became denser as it marked the fire at the epicenter. Rimming the inner perimeter were maypoles, at least twelve feet tall, colorfully painted, and supported ropes of flowers and ribbon that partially enclosed the space overhead. There were a lot of people congregated here, way more than she’d anticipated. A few of them were dancing in a circle around the fire, but most were reposed on the ground or on cushions, just drinking and talking. To her immediate relief, she saw they were all clothed -albiet scantilly. Their clothing was a mixture of draping tunics and cord-bound bikinis (these options were not restricted by gender). She gripped Jareth’s hand harder as they continued approaching them, wondering if he planned to just plop beside the fire and leave them none the wiser. 

And then eyes started roaming their way. It began with those they passed on the ground. Sarah tried to ignore it, but the way they smiled up at them and began mumbling the word “guests?” with excited inflection, among themselves, was very unnerving. There was a small cluster of people standing between them and the fire, their figures turned near-black from such a strong backlight. One of them turned and looked Jareth straight in the eye. They were now close enough to speak with, and so Jareth brought them to a halt. The fae - a very tall, lanky, dark-skinned, gorgeous man- smiled at the four of them widely. 

“Are those guests I see?” he asked, then turned to his companions and muttered something in another language. They nodded and left, eyeing Sarah and the gang with creeping grins as they did so. The man, boasting a long muscled neck and high, chiseled cheekbones, took a step towards them and glanced around the crowd. He wore a brightly colored, exotically patterned tunic that fell to only his knee, and swayed about him gracefully. It became sheer with the light of the fire behind him, which, combined with the way he pressed the tips of his fingers gently to his neck, the heavy kohl that melted around his eyes, and an intricately woven headwrap, made him a perfect muse of androgyny. He held a glass in his hand, and raised it as he clinked it twice with a bulbous silver and ruby ring which he wore on his middle finger. “Look here, everyone!” he called out, to his flock rather than to them. “We have been gifted wanderers. Let us greet them warmly!” 

His accent was slightly different from the other fae she knew. It was hard to describe. The fae around them all stood and clapped. He smiled at them again, holding his hands outspread in an airy manner, and bowed very low before them. All of the strangers in the immediate vicinity did the same. 

“Good evening, travelers. Welcome. Are you weary? May we tend you this night?” 

Sarah looked up at Jareth, curious of his response, and prayed this was not a situation she was meant to take the lead in. She wasn’t sure these fae were members of Court, and all her etiquette was geared towards that particular ring of circus. She caught him smiling, a strange, wayward sort of look. Like he was caught in a memory. She began to feel a little confused, and then he spoke.

“You may. We are tired, and bored, and in need of fine company,” he said and, shockingly, placed a hand over his heart as he bowed before the man, just as low. Sarah’s jaw clenched anxiously. Did...was she supposed to bow too? 

The man stood, looking so genuinely happy to see them, as his smile stretched from ear to ear. He had large teeth. Beautifully sculpted. Wow. 

“By Alvra, we are blessed,” he said, and placed a long-fingered hand over his heart. “I am Kodrun, the Favraier of this clan. Welcome to our hearth.” 

Jareth lowered his head and, in doing so, spoke to Sarah with the sheer intensity of his gaze. She flinched and bowed her head as well.

“Thank you for the hospitality,” she said, hoping that was acceptable. Roldan and Mariella bowed their heads as well. When they all straightened, she saw Kodrun’s attention was now cast to the left. His smile twitched anew at whatever he saw. 

“Ah. And now I believe Mavra herself will greet you,” he said, bowing now to this mystery person whom they all turned to face. 

The two women who had been speaking with Kodrun had, apparently, left to fetch whomever this Mavra person was. She saw them standing at the mouth of a tent, which was a bit more decorated than the rest (messily painted with strange runes and pictures), and were holding back the curtains as an elderly woman now emerged. 

Sarah used the term _ elderly _loosely, as the woman looked to be about sixty. But, as far as fae standards went, that was rather odd in and of itself. She was short. Had black, wiry hair done up in a strange nest of braids, and wore a loose gown in a similar style to Kodrun’s. Her skin was of a darker complexion as well. Darker than Marie, but not as dark as Kodrun, and she had a slight gimp to her walk. Sarah felt Jareth’s hand move to her elbow, and she knew immediately she was about to be puppeted. Oh. This woman must be important.

They did not move, but waited for the woman to hobble over until they all stood within arm’s reach. She was silent at first, getting a good look at them as her eyes spanned from Marie, to Roldan, to Sarah, and finally Jareth. Sarah caught the ghost of a smile on the old woman’s lips at that very moment, just as she’d regarded Jareth. Sarah peered up discreetly, slow to be consumed by curiosity at the way her mercurial husband was still smiling so gaily. 

“Mavra,” Jareth said and, pinching Sarah’s elbow between his thumb and index finger, jerked her down with him as he dropped to one knee. She almost yelped. Damn. If there was going to be some sort of ceremony, he should have briefed her back in the field! Roldan and Mariella also kneeled, and things seemed suddenly very serious. “It has been too long since last I sat at your table.”

So...Jareth knew her? Is that why she gave him that strange look? But something felt off. She was missing something, and a whole lot of it. 

“Indeed it has, child,” Mavra said, and then stepped forward to place the tips of her fingers under both her and Jareth’s chins, lifting them up. Her expression on the both of them was full of love. “But we will always welcome our children home.” She tilted her head and smiled. Sarah wasn’t sure what to do, so she did nothing. As the old woman continued to regard them, Sarah felt her fingers twitch beneath her chin. Mavra’s head tilted subtly, and her smile curled. “Alvra favoures you,” she said, confusing Sarah all the more. “The both of you. We are blessed by your company.” She withdrew her hands and gestured for the four of them to stand. “Come. Rest now. Enjoy our fire. You have found light in the darkness. It is Alvra’s gift to you.” 

Sarah was surprised and actually greatly affected by the fact that the woman’s tenderness was not restricted to Jareth, but flowed evenly between them all. Her touch on her chin had felt warm. It felt comforting. Like a mother’s touch. She felt her heart fluttering in response to it in a way that made no sense at all. Huh? Who exactly was this person? 

And then, just like that, the old woman bowed her head, turned away, and went back to the seclusion of her tent. Jareth released Sarah’s arm, and she used that brief moment to glance back. Mariella was looking all around wildly, and Roldan...well, he looked like Roldan.

“I shall fetch you drinks!” Kodrun exclaimed, reminding Sarah that he was still there. She turned around and looked at him doe-eyed. This was already overwhelming her. He clapped and breezed past them, his thin linen tunic fluttering airily in his wake. “Please, sit anywhere. Enjoy everything. The world is yours!” And then, with a very feminine grace, the seven-foot-tall man glided away with his hands held up as if birds might then land on the tips of his fingers. Oh. Well alright then. 

Before she had the chance to decide on any actual reaction, she felt Jareth’s hand on her elbow again, pulling her forward.

“Come,” he said, and smiled down at her. “Let’s sit by the fire.” 

There was a ring of logs being used as benches circling the fire pit, and Jareth guided her towards the one closest to them. He sat on the end, Sarah beside him. Then followed Roldan at her left, and, having lagged behind from being so thoroughly fascinated, was Marie who was thus forced to sit next to Roldan at the far end. 

“Oh, this is so exciting. How lucky are we?” she heard Mariella whisper to Roldan. Sarah peered around to try and be part of the conversation.

“Lucky, sure,” Roldan replied, staring blankly into the fire and looking a little tense. Sarah looked down at the sand at her feet. Did they put this here? 

There was a loud pop from the fire which sent a burst of sparks into the line of dancers. A few of them yipped and jumped back, but recovered with wide smiles and laughter. They held each other steady as they all found their footing and quickly resumed the dance again. It made Sarah smile. These people seemed friendly. Genuinely. 

She looked over to Jareth, realizing he’d been suspiciously quiet.

“So...do you know that person or…?” she asked, tilting her head as she stared up at him. He too had become dazed on the fire, though he was quick to blink out of it. 

“Hm? Who?” he asked. Sarah blinked.

“That Mavra lady. Who else?”

“_ The _,” he corrected. Sarah shook her head. 

“What?”

“_ The _ Mavra. That is her title.” 

Sarah’s scowl didn’t lessen any.

“Okay...that doesn’t really answer my question though.” 

Jareth inhaled and slouched forward.

“No, I don’t know her. Not personally, anyway,” he said. Sarah arched a brow.

“What does that mean? And why did we bow like that? I thought Kings only bowed to Queens?” she asked. Jareth cracked a smirk and then leaned around her.

“So many good questions. And you said teaching her our religions would be a waste of time,” he said, calling out to Roldan. Roldan shot him an eye, but only shrugged in apathy. 

“I did. Her knowing of your strange affinity for these people had nothing to do with making sure she could successfully walk down the aisle.” He spoke flippantly, which only had Sarah scowling. She frowned at him disapprovingly.

“The actual marriage was a religious ceremony wasn’t it?” she asked. This time, Roldan went so far as to look down his nose at her before responding.

“Yes. But not of _ this _religion. And besides, I taught you only what you needed to know.” 

Realizing he’d become a rather mysterious brick wall on the subject, Sarah groaned and turned around to Jareth. 

“So? There are multiple fae religions?”

Jareth, now leaning towards her with his fingers laced over a knee, gave her a jaunty smile. 

“Why wouldn’t there be? Are there not many religions in your world?”

“Yeah but…” and then her words failed. She wasn’t quite sure how to phrase this. “The people in my world haven’t unraveled the secrets of the universe like you have here. They pretty much just go with what feels right.”

Jareth cocked a brow at her with interest.

“And you think my people have and thus act any differently?” he asked, rhetorically she assumed. 

“You have magic. You understand the way it works with your bodies and with the physical and metaphysical world. You know what happens when you die, which is really the crux of it all. So, yeah, I’d say you have a far more rounded understanding of your universe than I do mine.”

It was a question regularly pondered by the wandering and often unstimulated mind of Sarah the Goblin Queen. There were different worlds, dimensions, with different rules and different physics. But what did that mean? Were there only the two? Or many more? How many? What about God? She’d been raised a casual Christian and deep down she still believed, but her current reality was a bit of page-stopper. Could God be real in her world and not in this one? Was her idea of God and their idea of Nature one in the same? Or were they all wrong? Why did Roldan think this was unimportant? 

“Fair enough,” Jareth said, with a shrug. “I suppose then, what we have are sects, rather than individual houses of thought,” he explained. Sarah listened eagerly. “All religions in this world center around the worship of Nature as the forebringer of life and magic. It is where we are born and where we die. However, the details and the physical practices of how we honor such vary widely between churches.” 

“Oh,” she said, and turned sharply when Mariella suddenly piped in.

“Indeed. For instance, The House of Aldrun is the civil school in my home nation of Masoch. We are descended from nymphs, so our worship revolves around the sanctity of water and air.” She was bent forward with her elbows on her knees as she spoke to Sarah, pointing an astute index finger up in the air. 

“Huh,” Sarah said, and turned back to Jareth. “Does the Goblin Kingdom have a national religion?” 

“No,” Jareth said, and, from his clipped tone, she feared that’s all he had to say. Thankfully, after running a casual hand through his hair, he carried on. “I’ve made my kingdom a haven for all beliefs. I find oppression through the church to be stifling and annoying.” 

“And that has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that Thaelon once outlawed all forms of religion, correct?” Roldan quirked. Sarah saw a tick move through Jareth’s expression but it was fleeting. Sarah looked over at Roldan harshly. 

“Do you have to be an ass?” she snapped. Roldan paused and checked himself. She looked serious. Oops.

“As I said,” Jareth interjected, his enunciated tone telling her to look his way. She did, and he leaned towards her again. “-it was stifling and annoying.”

“So, what do you believe in?” she asked, without thinking. They were staring into each other’s eyes, and hers were innocently unguarded. They’d never had this conversation before. Maybe it deserved more tact. 

Sarah, slowly catching on to what might be a very serious divulge of information, was startled by the dramatic return of Kodrun. 

“Alas, friends, I have returned!” he said, and unnamed drinks were suddenly being thrust into their hands. “Drink up. Our spirits flow like rivers!” he added, twiddling his fingers in the air as he exclaimed. She’d actually jumped in her spot, she’d been so startled. He’d appeared directly in front of her, like Jareth often did. He balanced a tray of cups in one hand while leaning down and serving them with the other. 

“T-thank you,” Sarah said, locking eyes with him awkwardly as he came in close to her face. His eyes were dark, his lashes devastatingly long. He smiled and nodded in response. 

When his tray was clear, he took it in hand and cast it away like a discus. Sarah veered back sharply in pursuit of it, blinking dumbly at the fae at the far end of the clearing who, with some omnipotence, looked up and caught the thing just in time before it had the chance to decapitate someone. When she turned back around, he was holding a dusty cushion (that appeared out of nowhere) and dropped it onto the sand before reclining languidly across it at their feet. Sarah held her cup awkwardly -carved from wood, she noted- and stared around until she felt properly acclimated. 

There was about fifteen or so feet between the logs and the fire, which was enough distance to keep them warm but not bothered, and allowed for just enough space for the dancers to carry on undisrupted by Kodrun’s placement. Her question to Jareth utterly forgotten, she now watched them with intrigue. The women wore wraps around their chests, and pieces of fabric fitted together with gold ropes around their hips. She could not even label them as skirts. Loincloths, maybe. The light of the fire was bright, near blinding, and exuded a heat that seemed oddly tamed. She felt fine, but feared for the bodies of the men and women flaunting themselves with such abandon just a few feet in front of their faces. They were glistening, dripping from head to toe with sweat. It looked carnal. And it smelled...surprisingly good. 

Jareth leaned away from her and took a deep, relaxed breath.

“I believe in a combination of things,” he started, surprising her by answering her question when he did not have to. She looked at him as he took a long sip from his cup. “I also have...some beliefs of my own. But this is not the place for that conversation.” -Nor would it ever be. Jareth’s beliefs were unique. Were secret. Were fact. They were the result of his awareness of Liana. And, while he felt a connection with the Alvari, it was his determination that the closest thing to the truth of their world was a knowledge that only his family possessed -but even then, it was fragmented. He knew so much and yet nothing at all. They knew so much and yet nothing at all. It was a little bit sad. The ignorance devised by the mere passing of time…

Against this bit of existential musing, Jareth’s response was perfectly pleasant; but it still had Sarah frowning. She saw through him in the only way that mattered. He was holding back. Forcing the pretense. She did not like seeing such a carefully crafted posture on him. Was it just the setting, or was this something he actually didn’t want to discuss with her? That bothered her. A lot. Mainly because she couldn’t think of a reason why he would be so reluctant. She chose to believe the former. She knew he was a spiritual person. This was probably just a topic more serious to him than she realized. 

“But of course it is!” Kodrun replied. Sarah looked down at him as he sprawled on the ground. He lay on his side, his head supported by a hand, and had a sensual leg drawn up. Sarah wasn’t quite sure what to make of this guy. He had better legs than Marie, and his skin was very shiny. With her eyes lowered on him, she now noticed a rather odd ring of mushrooms sprouting from the sand that traced the circumference of the bonfire in the space between him and the dancers. Interesting. “An Alvari hearth is the perfect place to unbridle one’s spirit. It is our purpose. We are at your disposal.” Kodrun lowered his head and rolled his hands in deference. Sarah waited a beat, eyeing Jareth discreetly for cue that he might elaborate. He didn’t, and, in the effort to distract herself from that odd blip of tension, she bit her lip and seized the moment for herself. 

“Okay. Um...I hope you’re not offended, but I’m not from around here. What exactly are the Alvari?”

There was the smallest of pauses preceding Kodrun’s reply. He blinked at her, like he was caught off guard, and yet his smile only grew.

“Offended? Sister, never. It is a blessing to be asked such a thing,” he said, and placed an emphatic hand on his heart. “I fear it’s been too long since I’ve heard such pleasant words. Of course I will tell you -The Alvari worship The Alvra. That is the true name of Nature. We were the first. The first institution to unite the people of this continent towards harmonious ambition. We believe The Alvra is the guiding hand of Nature. Its consciousness which judges the world of men.” 

“You know this concept as Almother, or Mother Nature. A personification, really,” Jareth added, leaning close to her ear but not quite whispering. Sarah nodded in understanding.

“I see...and who is The Mavra? Is she your leader?” she asked. Kodrun nodded.

“The Mavra is our priestess. Ma, meaning Mother, and Vra, Protector. Priests are named Favra, for Father Protector. Every Alvari clan is led by either a Mavra or Favra,” he explained.

“And Al?”

“World. Alvra translates to Protector Of The World.” 

Sarah looked down into her cup and tapped its side. She had no idea what this liquid was, but everyone else was consuming it freely. She leaned down to sniff it, and crinkled her nose. Wine. It was probably wine. These people lived off the stuff. 

“And Favraier? What does that mean?”

“A Favraier is an...apprentice,” Kodrun said, tapping his lips with his fingers as he searched for the most appropriate translations. “A Favra in training. I serve as second to the Mavra.”

“Oh.” And then she looked over to Jareth.

“Why haven’t I heard of any of this? Why did the Druid say Almother?”

“It’s a derivative. Druids adapt language from the grimoire it is given. It does not normally possess the ability to speak. If we had used an Alvari canon, it would have used the term Alvra.” 

“Oh,” Sarah said, again, unaware of the new light of intrigue Kodrun was now staring at her with.

“You’ve met a Druid?” he asked, moving to sit on his haunches. Sarah’s eyes darted a little.

“Um...yeah. At our wedding,” she said, and awkwardly turned a thumb between her and Jareth.

“A marriage? Under a Druid? Was it recent?” And now he looked excited. Was that...good? Sarah, just now realizing they had never introduced themselves, wondered if concealing their identities had perhaps been Jareth’s intention. Should she say anything more?

“Yes...about...um...how long ago did we get married?” she turned and asked Jareth, wincing a little in the hope that he would not be offended by such a question. 

“Five weeks,” he answered, flatly, behind the rim of his cup. Sarah frowned a little. Wow, it’d already been over a month since the wedding? Damn. It felt like yesterday…

“Ah. A solstice wedding then.”

“Solstice?” Sarah repeated, her head turning to Kodrun on instinct and then immediately back to Jareth. “We got married on the solstice?”

“Yes.” 

“Now, that I _ did _mention,” Roldan interjected. Sarah turned towards him with a frown. The summer Solstice was the longest day of the year, a fae holiday, Roldan had told her -but little else. Only that it was also a convenient time to host their wedding. -Two birds with one stone, kind of thing. 

“Oh. Right.” 

“Blessed be. A solstice wedding and now a chance gathering the week of Lughnasa? It is a sign from Alvra, surely. We are bade to celebrate!” Kodrun cheered, shaking his fists in the air with glee. It was a very Marie mannerism. She imagined they’d become thick as thieves before the night was through.

“Wait, what?” Sarah asked, caught off guard this new energy, and the way he stood to his feet and clapped his hands together loudly.

“Come! Gather ‘round brothers and sisters!” He shouted, drawing the attention of all nearby ears. “Our guests have just informed me of their good tidings. Alvra has gifted us a fresh marriage to bless on this final day of Lughnasa! Are we not truly blessed?!” His voice rose with passion and the crowd of Alvari cheered in response. Sarah felt her shoulders cowering in embarrassment, and her eyes scanned around all the happy faces timidly. She almost flinched when Kodrun knelt down to speak directly to her. “Sister, what would you like me to call you by?” he asked. A little thrown by his phrasing, Sarah knitted her brow as she mulled over a response.

“Um, well my name is Sarah. So I guess that?”

The inflection in her voice made it sound like she was unsure if that was correct, which was something that had Jareth snickering into his cup. Oh, she was probably so flustered right now. 

Kodrun’s eyes blinked rapidly as if the word itself had reached out and slapped him across the face. He drew back a little, and, just as he was about to respond, crossed gazes with Jareth, who was giving him a rather cutting side-eye. Kodrun paused, his mouth still hanging open in a smile, and then turned back to Sarah with more consideration.

“-Ah. Sarah, lovely,” he said, recovering perfectly and leaving Sarah none the wiser. To those feeling less anxious than she, he may have now seemed a little flustered. “Thank you for honouring us this night,” he continued, and stood once more. “Please, friends, wait here while preparations are made.” He left quickly after that, which allowed Sarah to finally let loose her torrent of butterflies all over Jareth.

“Preparations? What kind of preparations? Why are they so excited about our wedding that happened a month ago?” she asked. Jareth, taking too much delight in her pitiful panic, shrugged and cracked a grin on the side of his face she could not see.

“Because tonight is the final night of their Lughnasa celebration, as it seems.”

“Yeah, you never did explain that to me. I thought you said it was to celebrate the harvest or something?”

“Yes, but it’s also a holiday commemorating new marriages.”

“Isn’t that a fine coincidence.” She was getting sassy now, and with a matching pout to boot. Jareth, finishing the last of his drink, lowered it from his mouth. 

“Indeed. Praise Alvra,” he said, sarcastically, and held up his empty cup in an imaginary toast. Sarah growled a little.

“Do they even know who we are? You haven’t introduced us,” she shifted directions, lowering her tone discreetly as fae strangers began to draw near. They were bustling about, she noticed, redecorating the clearing. Though she didn’t have the spare attention to inspect it much.

“I doubt it,” Jareth replied -almost lying. _ They _ did not know who they were. But now, thanks to Sarah, Kodrun definitely did. “Normally, our identities or stations would remain anonymous. All are equal at an Alvari table.”

“Do you not want them to know?” she asked. Again, Jareth shrugged.

“It’s fine either way. The Alvari are quite fond of me.”

He sounded very priggish in that response, which had one of Sarah’s brows arching sharply.

“Oh, are they? Why is that?”

“Yes, Jareth. Tell her why.”

Sarah glanced over at Roldan who, apparently, had been eavesdropping. Not that she minded. Especially given the very baited tone he had used. Oh, so there was a story waiting to be told? Ever curious, Sarah turned back to Jareth attentively.

“Happily,” Jareth said, biting the word with forced decorum, and then turned his disingenuous look down at her. “I took a sabbatical when I was young. A tribe of Alvari -not this one- had visited the Capital, and I found them...intriguing. They allowed me to travel with them for a time,” he explained, anticlimactically. Sarah, on the precipice of a letdown, glanced at Roldan as he suddenly huffed with laughter. 

“_ Hmph _. You mean you ran away…”

“What?”

“Such a bitter bump on the log you are, Roldan,” Jareth was quick to say, before Sarah could properly react. “-giving away all my secrets. Perhaps you would like to tell the story?” Pretension disguised as playfulness was a trademarked skill of Jareth the Goblin King. He carried it proudly, with a discerning eye that passed over Sarah’s head and straight into Roldan. Roldan, however, with a very irritating show of impertinence, ignored it and turned away dismissively. 

“No. No, t’is your life,” he said, and waved a hand in the air. “I’m simply here to correct any of your usual embellishments.”

“You ran away from home?” Sarah asked, ignoring their minor friction, and pushing on with the story. Mariella, who had been so very quiet on the far end of the log, leaned around Roldan as best she could to hear Jareth’s recount as well.

“It pains me to see how readily you side with Roldan over me,” Jareth said, with a gallant and obviously false tone. “I suppose I must now defend myself. I left by my own choice, without asking permission from my father, if that’s what you mean.”

“So yes, he ran away.” -Roldan’s quips were being duly tallied, he was sure, but he didn’t much care. This story would not know the light of day if he had been allowed to stay behind. It seemed having Sarah as a shield was making him more pert than usual -though such confidence was betrayed by the way his eyes averted every time she glanced back at him. Perhaps he was not so bold after all. Maybe it would have been better to have let her sit beside Marie. 

“For how long? How old were you?” Sarah asked. Her eyes darted here and there, catching on all the labourings of the Alvari in the background. Many of them had changed their clothes. Now they wore rings of flowers and had painted their limbs with something red. 

“I was gone...about six months. I was extremely young. Gods...twenty-five maybe?” Jareth said, and her attention flickered back to him in shock.

“Twenty-five? Twenty-five years? Like, human years?” she asked. He arched a brow at her.

“As opposed to what?”

“No, it’s just…” and she started asking her head. “-I’m always expecting there to be a zero or two added when it comes to your species.” 

“Well, even I was a child -once upon a time,” Jareth said, and looked away. 

“So you left, just like that? _ The Crowned Prince of the nation _, and you thought it was okay to poof off without a trace? Did you hop in the back of a wagon, or what?”

“Pretty much.” 

“Jesus,” Sarah said, her eyes widening with thought. “I’m shocked Thaelon didn’t kill you.”

“As were we all,” said Roldan.

“Please. I learned a great deal from my time with them,” Jareth retorted. “They are an extremely wise and well-cultured people. I was able to convince my father of this upon my return as well. He admired a good show of courage and adventure. Danger and impulse. I think he was actually proud I’d gone out on my own -after he finished beating me anyway. Although...in retrospect, I suppose I deserved it.”

“Goddamn, Jareth,” Sarah said, recoiling with a very disturbed kind of expression.

“We do what we can,” Jareth said, and tossed her a reassuring wink. (It did not reassure her.) Not wanting to ruin her mood, or talk about this any further, he decided to change the topic entirely. “I see you haven’t touched your drink,” he observed, eyeing her cup as it compared to all their empty ones. Sarah blinked out of her rumination and looked into her cup as well.

“Oh…well, what even is it? It smells kind of funny.” She sloshed it around, and he gave her a smirk.

“Take a sip. Trust me.”

For reasons that did not need to be stated, Sarah was skeptical even with Jareth’s blessing. Still, it was probably rude not to at least taste it, and she didn’t want to offend her hosts. She brought the cup to her mouth and pinched her lips, only allowing the smallest amount of liquid to seep past onto her tongue.

She blinked rapidly at the taste of it, and sat up straight with a surprising vigor.

“Oh, wow. Wow, that’s good,” she said, and quickly took another sip. It was thick, ice cold, and possibly the sweetest thing she’d ever tasted. “-really good, actually. It’s...fizzy.”

“Alvari mead is a true gift from the gods...or Alvra, in this case,” Jareth said, pleased by her reaction. He continued to watch her as she steadily consumed the whole thing. “Brewing it has become their primary means of living.”

“With good reason,” Sarah said, her taste buds still confused over how to interpret exactly what it was she was tasting. It was unlike any flavor she’d ever experienced. Impossible to describe. “Can I have another?”

While she hadn’t meant to order him then and there, Sarah realized too late that this was a public setting and that was exactly what she did. She recoiled a little, as if she’d faux pas’d (Maybe she should have asked Roldan), but Jareth only smiled at her. Pleased by the request.

“Of course,” he said, and bowed his head as he took her cup from her. “A word of caution though: I know it glides smoother than water, but best to pace yourself. This spirit is extremely alcoholic.” He gave her a very knowing eye and then stood from the log. Sarah watched him as he stepped over it and went -somewhere- to procure her more. Did he even know where he was going? 

The Alvari were now setting up a band of instruments on the other side of the fire. Large canvas drums, peculiar woodwinds, and a bell-chime that clanked as they dragged it into place.

“Don’t let him fool you. He really did run away,” she heard Roldan mutter very close to her ear. She turned towards him to find he’d also raised a hand to his cheek to conceal the space between them.

“Huh?”

“His constant preening kills me. The truth is, he and Thaelon had a rather nasty falling out, which just so happened to coincide with a traveling fair hosted by Alvari. Jareth was enamoured, sure, but more so he thought it an easy escape from the city. I advised him not to. Heavily. But, of course, he never listens to me.”

“Oh my, Master Roldan, you’re not gossiping are you?” Mariella, now freed from the bonds of her station by Jareth’s departure, was all too eager to finally join in on the conversation. Roldan looked over at her as he responded.

“Gossip is an ugly word. I told you, I’m correcting certain embellishments.” And then he shrugged and carried on with his original thought. “He left on a completely childish impulse of angst. Running off to become an Alvari monk -please. As if such a farcical act of defiance would have put Thaelon in his place. Although...he did return with a better rounded sense of culture, I will give him that. But not without his tail between his legs.”

“What do you mean?” Sarah asked.

“As I said, Thaelon had outlawed religious practice. It was stupid, and I have no idea why. He was also extremely particular about the knowledge his sons did and did not receive. He wanted them molded in a very specific way and Jareth, well, luckily he was smarter than that. He left in the effort to learn all the things he knew his father was keeping from us. I believe he did. Thank gods. Though it was not without cost.”

“What cost?” Mariella, ever the dramatic, asked Sarah’s question for her. This time, suspiciously, Roldan hesitated before responding. 

“I’d...rather not say.” And then he turned to look Sarah straight in the eye. “Though, please take to heart when I say we really _ were _surprised he did not die that day.” The weight in those words did not need to be extrapolated. Sarah held his gaze until he looked away. “Now, I’m not one for any spiritual preference-”

“Yeah, I kind of figured that,” Sarah interrupted. “Are you a nihilist?”

“I believe we live and we die, and maybe learn some magic in between,” he said, and then tilted his head down at her. “The rest is nil, yes.”

“Oh Master Roldan, always so cynical…” 

“-With that said,” he continued. “I understand his respect for this particular institution. They are centered on pillars of kindness and redemption. On the_ unbridled _ spirit. I think...over those months, he found a kinship with them he had never quite experienced. When Jareth took the throne, one of his first decrees was to offer spiritual sanction. Not so generously to all at first, but to the Alvari specifically.” 

“I get it,” Sarah said, and turned to look over their surroundings. The fae, no matter what they were doing, were all smiling with one another. They were all laughing and offering to help each other with the _ preparations _. They teased each other, and kissed each other, and touched each other in casual gestures that were intimate and tender. It was a strange thing to observe, mainly because it was genuinely loving -not at all lewd like that of the courtesans in Davion’s Court. She tried to imagine the effect being thrust into this lifestyle might have had on a very young and obviously troubled Jareth. The way he smiled at the Mavra...he said he did not know her, but there was real admiration in that look. Hm...“That’s why he got so excited,” she mumbled, coming to a clear understanding. 

“Yes. Insufferably so.” 

“But, why would the Alvari need sanction?” she asked, and then startled when Jareth suddenly climbed over the log beside her.

“Because they are ostracized,” he said, handing her her drink and, apparently, was neither surprised nor bothered that they had continued the conversation without him. 

“What? Really?” she asked.

“You were just told they practice the old ways,” Jareth continued, sitting back down on the log and taking a deep sip from his fresh drink. “They were the first legitimate church in Orpia. The first Favra was said to have served under Orpus himself. Back in a time when church and state were essentially one, the reigning Favra influenced all.”

“So what happened?”

“I’m not sure.”

“There is conflicting history,” Roldan clarified.

“Some say the King at the time -though of which nation, no-one has any idea- had a differing of religious opinions with the Favra. This King managed to turn the rest of the Council on him, and had the entire church dissolved from Court statute. Others say The Favra was a glutton for power and betrayed the Council Kings by trying to have them all murdered. Regardless of what actually happened, by some events, the Alvari were torn from grace. A new sect formed, an Alvari derivative, that better suited the political aims of the Council. It is called Fendr’Al, by the way, and remains the current church of the Orpian aristocracy.”

Sarah sipped from her cup slowly as she watched Jareth speak.

“So, our wedding?”

“Was performed in the church of Fendr’Al, yes.”

Sarah was quiet for a moment, several pieces of newly learned knowledge just now falling into place.

“So...it doesn’t matter what you believe?” She asked, drawing her brow tightly. “The citizens can practice however they chose, but you have to participate in that religion just because you’re a member of an Orpian royal family?”

“Yes.”

That was absurd. No wonder Roldan was a nihilist. She glared back at him accordingly.

“And you really think I didn’t need to know any of this?”

“No, I said I didn’t think you needed to know any of it in preparation for your coronation. I had a mere four weeks to prepare you for social interaction. My biggest concern was preventing you from inadvertently starting a war on the dance floor,” he explained, without remorse.

“So that’s why you said honoring the Druid was a superficial waste of time? That it was purely out of custom?”

“Exactly. Which is also why I don’t particularly smile on the idea of any religious institute. Rituals are an empty gesture. In the end, it’s all superficial.”

“So what happened next? After they were disbanded?” It didn’t really matter to whom the question was directed, although she was in the process of turning back to Jareth.

“Well, those who would not convert went on the run. They were persecuted across all eight kingdoms. They split into small groups and traveled constantly, and thus evolved into tribes such as the one you currently see around you. Over time, the Court’s disdain for them has fallen passive. Now they are merely looked down on or ignored.”

“And you gave them special sanction?”

Caught off guard by her question, Jareth narrowed his eyes and glared at Roldan.

“I told her,” he admitted, with little care. Jareth’s eyes lingered for a moment, and then lowered.

“Yes…It was a bold move, though perhaps an unwise one for a monarch so green. It was not received well in Court,” he told her. 

“Oh. And now?”

“They’ve gotten over it.” He angled away and tilted his head back as he pounded the last of his drink. Sarah wondered what would happen to her if she attempted such a thing. “Many Alvari tribes live here permanently. Traveling the Barrens, I mean. Though of course, they cannot ignore their calling. They must leave the safety of our borders every now and again to liberate the common man.” 

“Wow. That’s all so interesting,” Sarah said, and turned away as she leaned back to spy on the status of the impromptu party they were being given. The maypoles had been altered. The ribbons and vines once lacing a canopy were now twisted down into the skeletons of tepees. Lights now shone from them as well, which attracted many of the moths she’d seen earlier. “Hm...It really was a perfect coincidence to cross paths tonight.”

Perfect...yes. If one held the views of an Alvari, they would say there are no such things as coincidence -especially where Sarah was concerned. For a very brief moment, Jareth had found himself wondering if this run-in really was a matter of divine fate. But surely Liana did not care for things so trivial. Surely she was not so omnipotent? 

Or perhaps she was. Perhaps, as the Mavra was speaking her daily prayers, the voice of sweet, deceptive Liana had whispered they make camp in this particular spot on this particular day, and treat kindly the guests they would receive. But that was crazy. Surely, he was going crazy. Paranoia was gnawing at him like rot on an open wound. He just kept waiting for something terrible to happen. For Sarah to awaken and Liana to laugh so wickedly in his face. Maybe that was one of the reasons he was fine with taking her out of the city. Getting her away from the Labyrinth and Liana’s heart for a few days might help settle him down. He tried, so many times, to console himself with the fact that at least, without the charm’s obstruction, Liana could fully protect her once more. He didn’t have to worry about her safety any more. At all. Which, admittedly, had taken a great deal of weight off of his shoulders. She was invincible to everything. ...Except for Liana’s influence. Damn. The thought just wouldn’t go away.

But maybe destruction was what he desired deep down, for he was surely tempting fate by bringing her here tonight. A part of him was curious -the researcher whom trepidation could not so easily slay. 

He wanted to know how the Mavra would react to her. If she could read Sarah the way Bezaleel had. To both his relief and curiosity, it seemed she couldn’t. She had mentioned something of Liana’s blessing, but it was vague and, in all likelihood, superficial. The Alvari were once the attendants of Liana’s altar. The self-sabotaging part of himself had honestly hoped for more. My, how far they had fallen.

Which brought him back to more current matters. The main reason Jareth had allowed Roldan to make a fool of him during his telling of childhood follies was to in fact deflect from what had _ actually _ happened. He was twenty-five, Davion was nine, and their father had begun educating him on the existence and purpose of Liana. 

Right away Jareth knew there were gaping holes missing from his father’s teachings. By his recount, Liana’s origins did not matter at all. Her reason for existing did not matter at all. The only thing of focus was that she was powerful, and that she could be controlled. When asked the why and the how, his father had been frustratingly bereft. Liana was a tool, nothing more. What mattered was what _ could _be done with her, rather than should. It was the future he was to look towards, not the past. 

When he had crossed paths with the Alvari, he was deeply enthralled by their ideology, for it sounded suspiciously close to what he was learning of Liana. He’d spoken with the Favra, and was given sacred texts to study in secret. After becoming certain the Alvra and Liana were in fact the same deity, he very impulsively followed after them as they moved on to perform in the next city. He needed to know what it was his father was trying to keep from him, or perhaps if there was knowledge his father just didn’t know himself. He also needed to know if these people were a threat. If they knew of Liana in the way he did.

But they did not. No, they believed Liana existed only in a metaphysical sense. Their history and their folklore did in no way allude to the bonds that had been placed on her, or her connection to the Goblin Kings. They did not know that she could be controlled, or that she had been for generations. This rendered them absolutely harmless. Perhaps these books were written before she was chained? He didn’t know. He only knew that the Favra worshipped the Alvra, Orpus had controlled the Alvra, and the Favra had served Orpus. Curious history this was, but did little to help his current situation. 

When he returned home, it was with a deeper respect and reverence for the _ tool _ his father was grooming him for. If she was Alvra, then she was as close to a god as one could believe. By whatever means, and for whatever purpose, she was bound to this world -and as a young fae that had terrified him. As he grew older, as he distanced himself farther and farther from the ambitions of his father, he began to see the truth of it. Liana was Nature. And, by acts of Man, by acts of his father and forefathers, Nature had been defiled. It had been corrupted and broken. And in return, the land on which they lived became corrupted and broken. The desert spread, from her very heart, and Jareth knew it would one day consume the entire world if balance was not restored.

He told himself he would be a great King. He told himself he would be a savior and a saint. He would be his father’s opposite. He had worked so hard, dedicated everything to preparation for the day his father died. Which was why...to this very moment, he did not understand why he was not even given the chance.

Sarah was musing over coincidences while idly sipping her drink, and Jareth remembered it was his cue to respond.

“A pleasant coincidence, anyway.” 

Sarah did not reply, perhaps she didn’t hear him. It didn’t matter, as that was the moment Kodrun finally returned.

He was wearing a new outfit. A gold and red, sparkling tunic replaced his original, and over it he wore a deep red shawl that was tied to his waist with a teal sash. He had a harem of very pretty men and women standing behind him this time, all staring down at the four of them with eager expressions. 

“I believe we’re ready. Would you join us in a dance, Sarah?” Kodrun asked, and offered her a hand. “And you as well...?” He’d turned and spoken to Jareth, obviously wanting him to offer his name. Jareth held his stare, conveying a small challenge which resulted in Kodrun’s smile waning to something humble. No name was shared. He lowered his eyes and, in defeat, extended the other hand out to Jareth despite it.

“By all means,” Jareth said, accepting the gesture and rising to his feet. Sarah, on impulse, did the same. 

“All of you are welcome to join,” Kodrun added, looking at Roldan and Mariella. Mariella nearly leapt to her feet.

“Oh really? Sarah, may I?” she asked, like a delighted child, and wiggled her fingers anxiously. Sarah cocked a one-sided grin. As if she was going to partake in whatever _ dance _this was on her own. 

“Oh course,” she said, waving her over. “Actually, I’m insisting on it. You coming too, Roldan?”

She looked down and he shook his head.

“No thank you.”

He looked exceedingly bored, and it was nothing new. Rolling her eyes, she turned away.

“Suit yourself…” 

Bowing his head to Roldan, Kodrun, still clasping both Sarah and Jareth’s hands, backed away from the log with them in tow. They took a few steps, and then stopped just before the ring of mushrooms.

“We’ll be crossing the faerie ring. I notice you’re human. I hope you don’t mind?” he asked. Sarah blinked, then looked to Jareth for confirmation. Would Kodrun think her an idiot to ask what a faerie ring even was?

“The fungus emits spores that can have...an interesting effect. On humans especially,” Jareth explained. Sarah pursed her lips. Great. More drugs. This really was Burning Man. Although...Jareth hadn't hesitated to bring her here, so the effects couldn’t be that severe, right? 

“What kind of effect?” she asked, warily. 

“Nothing you need fret over,” Jareth promised, looking her in the eye with earnest. “It simply encourages one...to do what they want,” he explained, choosing his words scrupulously. 

“Like at Davion’s?” she asked.

“No. No, it doesn’t create a stupor. You’ll see.”

And then Kodrun squeezed her hand and crinkled his nose at her.

“It also makes your ears hot. So there’s that,” he added. She laughed at his good nature, and glanced around. There didn’t seem to be any nefarious cues poking at her, and she trusted Jareth to take care of her. Hm...why not?

“Well, can’t pass up on that,” she said, and stepped over the threshold. 

Very pleased with her decision, Kodrun smiled widely and held her hand higher in the air as he then passed Jareth into the care of three snickering fae ladies. Um. Wait a minute- 

Kodrun turned away and took hold of Mariella’s hand instead. He began to lead them to the left of the circle, in the opposite direction of where the women were now leading Jareth. 

“Um, why are we being separated?” Sarah asked, her head arched back nervously as she stared at Jareth and the way he was not staring back at her at all, and was instead smiling down at the barely-clothed women who were now touching him all over like a new toy. Oh. Oh that was not a good feeling she just felt. Her eyes narrowed on his smug profile, angled down as he said _ something _to a woman who just about died with laughter. Goddamn traitor.

“We need to get you ready,” Kodrun replied, tilting his head down to her. “It is custom.” 

“Hehe! Oh, I am so excited I think I might burst!” Mariella squealed. She bounced a little, jerking Kodrun’s arm with her, and he laughed in response.

“Have you never danced with an Alvari, my lady?”

“No, goodness no. And please, call me Mariella.” She fawned a little, which was no surprise. Kodrun was gorgeous and just as exotic as Marie -and she was never one to pass up a good-looking man. She tapped him with the tips of her fingers playfully, and smiled.

While Jareth was busy with the company of women, Sarah was graced with attention from both genders. Accompanying she, Marie, and Kodrun, were two fae ladies and a boy who looked to be about Sarah’s age. Once they all came to the edge of the far end of the circle, they stopped. A drum beat had started, a low, slow rhythm. Sarah turned around, fearful she would not be able to see Jareth beyond the fire, and was surprised to find it was now lulling. By some magical means, perhaps by the beat of the drum, the twenty foot flames were undulating lower, darkening from blazing white, to yellow, to red, as it came to burn as little more than strange, terribly hot embers in a cobbled pit. It darkened the atmosphere considerably, and gave everything a haunting, primal veil. In that moment, through the distorted air above the fire, she locked eyes with Jareth. His smile curled, devilishly, just before spurning her for the pleasure of his attendants. 

Sarah was so angry she nearly stomped through the coals just to smack him. 

“Are you ladies ready to change?”

Sarah, glowering heavily, reluctantly turned away from her jerk of a husband and faced Kodrun. He was gesturing towards his apostles. They were holding garments folded in their arms. Sarah blinked at them curiously.

“Change? You mean our clothes?” 

“Unless you’d like to spend the night as a rabbit, yes,” he said, teasingly -partially. Sarah eyed the clothes in their hands, wondering how much of her would actually be covered by them. If her surrounding companions were any indication, not much. 

“You want us to get undressed out in the open like this?” she asked, her sense of modesty creeping in. Kodrun did not seem to understand her trepidation, so Mariella facilitated.

“Sarah was raised with more conservative values than we. Might we hold a curtain of some sort, to give her privacy?” she asked, oh-so-charmingly. Kodrun smiled at her and nodded.

“Of course. We shall use this,” he said and untied the sash around his waist. He pulled the shawl from his shoulders -large enough to be a blanket- and one of the women took a corner to create a nice little hovel for her to cower in. It shielded her on only one side, but across from them was a tent, where no other prying eyes loomed. But even with this, she still felt nervous. She didn’t know these people. Honestly, the only person who’d actually seen her change before (from full buff) was Jareth. At least Marie was there for support. But- Wait a minute-

Sarah glared back sharply, over the curtain, in Jareth’s direction. If they wanted to dress her, that meant they wanted to dress him as well... 

And, oh the rat bastard, he did not show any hesitation at all! Sarah nearly seethed. She stood with gritted teeth, watching as Jareth smiled down at a lady who was standing way too close and looking way too pleased as she gradually unbuttoned his waistcoat. Another woman was untying the cinch in his sleeves, while the other was letting loose his hair -combing her fingers lightly through it. Watching him enjoy being pawed at so openly had her blood boiling, to such a degree that she turned around with spiteful conviction.

“Looks like we’re falling behind,” she said irritably, to Marie, as she quickly pulled her blouse up and over her head. Mariella paused and looked over at Jareth, her eyes widening a little in fear. Oh gods. They were in the fae ring. Did His Majesty know what he was getting himself into? 

“Let me help you with your boots,” the young boy said, and knelt to the ground to work the laces. Sarah, now standing bereft one shirt, stared down at him tersely. 

Mariella, not needing any help with her ensemble, undressed quickly, covering her breasts with an arm (out of consideration for Sarah and nothing else) as one of the female attendants handed her a chest wrap. Sarah stepped out of her boots and shimmied out of her pants. She was in her bra and underwear now and, while only moments ago would have been incredibly self conscious, now could not care less as she stared over, once again, searingly, at Jareth. 

There was feminine laughter as they pulled his shirt up and over his head. And they would just not stop smiling -like they were having a grand old time. Thankfully, for everyone, he was allowed to keep his pants. But not his boots, she noted. He was already barefoot, and the hem of his trousers were rolled up to his knee. The woman behind him had begun to braid his hair. One held a bowl, and she and the remaining woman were dipping their fingers into it as they now began to paint his torso with something red. Two horizontal lines under each clavicle. Two just below each deltoid. Two angled at his hips… One woman knelt to the ground and drew lines on the top of his feet. The other marked his cheeks. And, while all this was happening, he did not acknowledge Sarah’s existence, nor the sensation of her angry stare that was surely prickling at his brain, even once. 

Feeling her cheeks heat to the temperature of the fire, Sarah glared back and unhooked her bra.

“So what’s next?” she asked, impatiently. The boy stepped back to help Mariella finish hooking her skirt in place, so the woman, who was not preoccupied holding up the curtain, took his place. She handed Sarah one end of a dark-red ribbon.

“We’re going to bind your chest with this. I will help,” she said. Sarah nodded. Maintaining as much discretion as possible, Sarah maneuvered the cloth over her breasts and then released herself to be circled by the woman. She wrapped it around her several times, and then secured it somehow in the back. Next she unfolded what would be her “skirt”, which Sarah assumed matched Marie’s. 

Sarah was thankful she’d decided to wear a thong that day, otherwise she’d have probably had to remove her underwear too. What was meant to conceal the lower half of her body was a band of woven gold cords that hung low on her hips -like the dancers from earlier. Falling in the front and the back were pieces of fabric, the same red shade as her top, that came to about her knee. The sides were open, the profile of her rear obstructed only by a light weaving of rope that draped to her mid-thigh. The boy, having finished with Mariella, was now standing behind Sarah, and removed the accessories from her hair before he braided it -just as the women had done to Jareth. 

As Sarah stared over herself, she felt suddenly insecure over the slight bloatedness of her stomach. She looked over at Marie, her mirror reflection (in attire, anyway), and almost laughed.

“We look like Princess Leia,” she said. Mariella looked at her confusedly.

“Who?”

“Nevermind,” Sarah said. She shook her head, and looked back to spy on Jareth. 

And then she lost her breath. This guy wasn’t pulling any punches, was he? Sarah turned, forgetting there were still hands in her hair, and growled so disdainfully she was sure it inspired the loud crack that broke from the fire just then. 

They were kneeling before him. Literally kneeling. One of them was flat out prostrated on the ground. A different woman held each of his hands and were kissing his wrists. The third, the tops of his feet. What the fuck? Their mouths rose, moving higher up his limbs, and she noticed how precisely placed each of their kisses were. One on the inside of each elbow. One at each shoulder. One on his chest...just above his navel…

Oh, that dirty motherfucker. 

Sarah, not fully understanding, nor caring to understand, what exactly was going on over there, puffed up her chest and cast all this modesty bullshit to the wind. 

“May I anoint you, Sarah?” 

She glanced back at the boy who was now standing in front of her. He was holding a bowl like the one Jareth’s women had. And he was staring at her patiently. Anoint?

“What’s your name?” she asked. 

“Markos,” he said, bowing his head. Sarah ran her eyes up and down him, entertaining all kinds of spiteful schemes as she reached for Kodrun’s shawl.

“Yes, Markos. You may anoint me,” and then she looked up at Kodrun. “I don’t need this anymore.” 

With a smile, Kodrun bowed his head and lowered his shawl. The woman who had been holding the far corner released it, and was freed to aid Markos. The other woman was already painting Marie. Sarah, using rage to fuel her confidence, stood with her chin high and her back straight as Markos lowered to his knees. 

* * *

Roldan, who had been sitting quietly and by his lonesome, glanced about every now and again for the mere sake of it. This was not his scene. Tribal revelry was not his scene. Actually, Court revelry was not much better either. But alas, such was life, and here he was. He nursed his drink and kept a close eye on Jareth. He was closer to him than Sarah was. Still within appropriate speaking distance. He’d been noting the look on Jareth’s face while dirty women touched him. Noted it was very unwise to fall back on such bad habits while Sarah was within a faerie ring. But, t’was not his place to intervene. Jareth would not heed him anyway…

His eyes roamed vacantly back to said human. He hadn’t been able to see much of her. She’d wisely erected a barrier while she changed. Still, he’d seen her bare shoulder as she’d shrugged out of her brassiere. Spied her bare feet as a male had pulled her socks from her. That was an odd thing to observe, he thought. The way her toes curled in the sand so nervously…

But now he gasped. Or choked. Or both. He had not expected the curtain to be lowered when he looked over this time. Not expected to see-

So much skin. There was so...so much skin. 

She stood in profile, with nothing but a band of color around her breasts and dangling gold chains at her hips. They glinted against the fire light, contoured to her shape, and did absolutely nothing to favor the imagination over the exact curve of her ass where it met her thigh. She held one leg bent, the leg facing them, with her foot angled sharply in line as a deeply honored fae adolescent closed his eyes and kissed it. A woman held out her opposite arm, and was kissing the back of her hand. She was painted. Displaying the same clay markings as Jareth. Two dripping lines at her bicep, two on her cheeks, her stomach, her thigh... She had an air about her. A dangerous air. A regal air. An air that revealed itself as pure, womanly rage as she turned her head just slightly and glared daggers straight into Jareth. 

If Roldan weren’t so exposed, he might have appreciated her better. But, as it was, he thought it wise -for all- to bring Jareth in on his gander. He scooched down to the end of the log, as close to Jareth as he could get without having to stand, and called out to him.

“I think you may have offended the Queen with your..._ er-hem _ friendliness,” he said, with tact. Jareth, still entertaining a strange woman’s lips on his neck, turned and looked across the way like he’d had _ no idea _ what Roldan was talking about.

True to word, Sarah was looking royally pissed off. As soon as their eyes met, Sarah’s turned slowly, dismissively, away. She held herself in a very particular pose, flaunting her body, and looked down to smile so pleasantly at the man who was now lightly massaging her calf as he kissed her knee. There were hands on her in other places as well. Mouths too. Hands and mouths that were not his. Kodrun had left, and now returned with a crown made of berries and vines, and wove it into her hair. She looked like a fucking goddess. Like a creature of pure destruction. Worshipped. Powerful. And enjoying every second of it. And the fact that she, so very blatantly, wanted to kill him while looking like that had his dick throbbing. 

“Do you think it wise to provoke her like that while in the ring? Given her...demeanor?” Roldan asked, but Jareth wasn’t listening. In fact, rather than reflecting Sarah’s jealousy, watching the way men and women’s lips caressed her pale, delicate skin, still moving farther and farther up her body, had him growing wild with excitement. He wanted to join them. He wanted her all to himself. 

Suddenly, he was pushing away the women preening over him like one would a mosquito. He took a step forward, and then appeared immediately at her side.

Sarah, true to form, did not so much as flinch as Jareth came to stand abruptly before her. He had a smile on his face. A nasty, hungry smile that she had no intention of entertaining. She turned her nose up at him, and arched her neck, as Markos brushed her braid out of the way and kissed it.

“Oh. So you remember you have a wife after all,” she said, deadpan, and kept her eyes averted. Jareth’s grin creeped. 

“You’ve been painted,” he observed. Sarah gave him a side-eye.

“So have you.”

“Watching that boy touch you is turning me on.” 

Whether it was his intention or not, such a bold, entirely inappropriate comment shattered through her bravado, and she glared back at him with wide eyes and a tightly clenched jaw. To add insult to injury, Markos, apparently ignorant of Jareth’s presence at all, went on to kiss her other shoulder with _ lingering _ affection. She tried her very best to remain steadfast.

“I think there’s some ladies over there who can help you with that,” she said, deridingly. The excitement in Jareth’s eyes could barely contain itself. 

“I’d like to anoint you,” he said, ignoring her comment. Sarah narrowed her eyes.

“I’m already being anointed. As you can see,” and she lifted her arm and turned her hand palm up as she offered it to Markos, who took hold of it tenderly and kissed the delicate veins in her wrist. Again -throb. 

“I’d like to do it as well,” Jareth said, and took a step towards her. Kodrun, who’d been eyeing the King coyly, lightly tapped Markos on the back of the shoulder, and stepped away. “May I?”

Markos had paused, as had the fae woman -Cyrin- who had been kissing her other arm, and both pulled their mouths away as they waited for Sarah’s answer. Sarah looked between the two, not wanting to relieve herself of her shields. Kodrun had gone to Marie, taken her hand, and kissed it as he led her a few paces away. 

Sarah tilted her head as she took her sweet time in mulling over Jareth’s request. What would happen if she said no? Did she have any intention of saying no? 

No. Having Jareth on his knees was exactly what she wanted. She nodded, and her two attendants bowed as they released her. 

Jareth’s smile twitched, as if he had been genuinely nervous of her answer, and then turned to accept the bowl of oil he was offered. 

He stepped towards her and twirled an index finger slowly in the clear, viscous liquid. He held her gaze as he traced his lips with it, with more sensuality than she was prepared for, and then, after handing the bowl back to Cyrin, dropped readily to his knees. 

Roldan watched -hell, everyone watched- as Jareth (The King Incognito) knelt in the sand and reached for one of Sarah’s feet. She offered it to him and pointed her toes down just as she had for Markos, and stared at the top of Jareth’s head as he brought the crest of her foot to his lips. 

His hands traveled up, wove around her ankle, her calf, and then he leaned in and kissed the side of it. Next her knee. Her thigh. He was taking several liberties, kissing her many more times in many more places than he was meant to, but no one stopped him. He moved slowly, no more slowly than Markos and Cyrin had, and yet it felt agonizing. His hands were hot. Soft. Tender, and possessive, and reverent. The look on his face aroused her. Eyes closed and relaxed in a manner of worship. She felt the heat of his breath breeze across her groin as he moved on to the next leg, this time working his way down and then back up again. 

He lifted himself a little higher, knelt on one knee, as he kissed her stomach. His hands were grasping the exposed flesh of her ass and teased to creep further, and the anticipation it caused, had her standing even straighter. She felt his lips, wet with oil, below her belly button, and she sucked in her stomach on reflex. He smiled, then moved higher still. 

Sarah gulped. Goddamn it, this was supposed to be degrading. She was supposed to be punishing him. But maybe that was the point. Maybe he’d been provoking her on purpose. He did like to piss her off at the most inopportune moments, so she wouldn’t put it past him. Even still, she was not about to let this one go so easily. She’d find a way to get back at him properly...eventually. 

Now his hands were around her ribs, his mouth pressed to the hem of her wrap at the bottom of her sternum. He exhaled and the flush of his breath made her shiver. She was still enduring as confidently as she could, but she was losing composure fast. It was like he didn’t care how many eyes were on them -for they were all on them- something which she was aware of. But then again, he never cared. Whenever they were together it was like they were the only two who existed. It was one of the things she’d come to love about him, to crave from him, and this current moment was no different.

Her eyes, in a moment of weakness, flickered away and inadvertently caught Roldan’s. She blushed and looked away immediately. 

Jareth, abandoned in his own little paradise, finally stood to his feet and took hold of both her hands. He kissed them one after the other, and took turns between each arm as he kissed up to her shoulders. He brushed stray hairs from her neck and kissed the spot where that boy’s lips had touched her only moments ago, over the artery that was, this time, pulsing wildly. He inhaled her scent and hovered there. She smelled intoxicating, even without pheromones. Faint sweat, and flowers, and mead, and whatever was naturally her that bound it all together. Gods, he wanted to fuck her. He licked his lips and nipped at her, just slightly, taking pleasure in the way her body seized against her wishes. 

He kissed the other side of her neck, then her cheeks and, finally, her forehead. Then, after what was, to Sarah and no one else, an achingly long process, he pulled away and blinked slowly, eager challenge darkening and sharpening his gaze. 

“You honor me,_ My Queen _,” he spoke softly, so no others could hear, with a wry smile that she could not discern. His eyes lowered to her mouth. “I’d like to kiss you.”

“You just were.”

“I’d like to taste your lips-”

“I’d like to bite your tongue out.” Oh. Where the hell did that come from? She actually recoiled from herself a little, surprised by her own lack of filter. Surprised, predominantly, because she was dead serious. Jareth, sensing her confusion, laughed. 

“I’m sure you would,” he said, holding back a bit of mischief at her expense. She wondered why the hell he looked so amused. And then she felt her ears start to tingle. “Have fun,” he added, holding her stare as he moved away and went to stand back in his spot on the other side of the fire. Sarah scowled as she watched him. Asshole. 

She stood with her hands on her hips, and looked over at the sound of Kodrun approaching with Marie in hand.

“He has great passion for you,” Kodrun said, gesturing at Jareth with his chin. Sarah grumbled.

“Uh-huh,” she replied, cursing him to trip and fall on his face as he greeted the three fae ladies who’d been waiting for him. Kodrun smiled to himself and took one of her hands. She followed as he led both her and Marie to a spot between the ring and the fire. She was now directly across from Jareth. With a lady on either side of him, they held his hands in the same poised manner she and Marie were holding Kodrun’s. Other fae now moved in, those who had been sitting on the ground as they, apparently, waited for their cue. They crossed the threshold and formed a ring around the fire, in boy/girl order she noted. Markos had joined her at her right, and he offered her his hand as well. 

“Are you ready to begin?” Kodrun asked. Sarah nibbled her lip.

“Um. I don’t know what to do,” she said. Kodrun laughed.

“Of course not,” he said, cheerfully, and glanced at Mariella as well. “This is your first time at an Alvari fire. Rest easy, we shall teach you.” The tone of his voice had Sarah inferring that he often taught his guests how to dance, which helped her feel like less of an outsider. She stood and waited for his instruction. “But first a prayer!” he said, and turned his head heavenward as he addressed the entire camp. He gripped Sarah and Marie’s hands a little tighter as passion deepened his voice. “Tonight, my brothers, my sisters, tonight we celebrate!” he shouted, and the Alvari cheered. “In the name of Alvra! Our fire, our heart, burns bright! On this, the final night of Lughnasa, we welcome new friends! We join together in their love and their joy, as we sanctify their bond of marriage!” _ -Alvra be praised- _ the crowd chanted. Sarah flinched from the surprise of their combined tenor. “Alvra has brought us together on this auspicious night. We honor Alvra, and each other, and ourselves. We become one, bonded in fraternity, on this night and forever more. But this is not a trial! No! By Alvra! Tonight we are not constrained by the old ways of a year and a day! We have with us a solstice bond! Brought together on the longest, brightest day. A symbol of eternity. May their love fade only when that final sun sets. Praise to Alvra.” _ -Alvra be praised _\- 

Huh? A year and a day? Weird. What the heck did that mean? Regardless, it didn’t seem to apply to her and Jareth…

“So, let us dance! Let us drink and be merry! Come, my friends, play us a song! It is time to begin!”

The fae who were not a part of the dancing circle clapped and cheered in encouragement. The band, which had been maintaining that same low drumbeat, now changed tunes with the addition of the other instruments. Naturally, it became more lively, but it was still slow and thrumming. The beat of the drum grounded the song. It sounded like a march, something that made you want to clap along in time with it. 

Sarah glanced around the circle and saw the majority of the dancers were jittering with anticipation -all dressed and painted identical to her. She wondered exactly what kind of dance this was going to be. Jareth, despite holding hands with his molesters, was looking around absently as he stood perfectly reposed. He looked comfortable. Like he knew what to do. She really, really, wanted him to let go of their hands. 

“First we will count the beat,” Kodrun said, drawing Sarah’s attention. She and Mariella looked up at him. “Close your eyes and feel it in the sand. Let it crawl up your toes and around your thighs. Let it fill you. Let yourself feel nothing but the drum.”

Sarah's determination to prove herself shielded her from cringing at the lovely sexual innuendo Kodrun had just gifted her, though she knew he’d meant it sincerely. Exhaling through her nose, she closed her eyes and tried to do as he said. The tingle in her ears had turned to a pleasant, though oddly precise, heat -just as Kodrun had promised. She wondered what other effects the ring would have. Wondered what the hell Jareth really meant by _ encouraging one to do what they want to do _. Seriously better not be another orgy... 

With another exhale, she focused on the music. It sounded provocative and fun, with a low melody of woodwinds that bounced along the strong and steady beat of the drums. It made her feet fidgety. Like she wanted to dance. That was probably the point.

“Now,” Kodrun continued, and held their hands a little higher. The rest of the dancers did the same. “We will start to the right. With a step, point, clap.” Sarah, not knowing what a point was, stared at him confusedly. He led her and Marie as he demonstrated, forcing them to fumble (forcing Sarah to fumble anyway) as they participated alongside him. She stepped to the right; then, after observing Kodrun’s feet, angled up her left knee and pointed the tip of her toe to the sand, then released her partner’s hands and clapped. Afterwards, Kodrun and Markos clasped her hands once more. “Then, to the left. Step, step-twirl, clap.” And now he tugged her to the left. She repeated the move, step, point, then released hands once again as they all twirled once, then clapped on point. Huh. Well that was easy. Oddly to Sarah, the entire circle moved in this fashion, even Jareth, mimicking her slow, slightly-out-of-time rhythm as they practiced. 

“We repeat these steps moving clockwise,” Kodrun explained, while simultaneously engaging them in it. Sarah executed the sequence flawlessly and gave herself a mental pat on the back (as if it was something any halfway coordinated person couldn’t manage). “And now we add a bow instead of the final clap. Alternate this with the steps we just did.” 

And she did. Left step, clap. Right step, twirl, bow. She was a little surprised by the bow. At the end of the twirl, Kodrun and Markos had grabbed onto her hands, and thrust their arms back as the circle bowed as one. 

“Easy, right?” Markos asked. Sarah looked over at him and smiled.

“Yeah. I’m surprised.”

“This is the warm-up,” Kodrun said, and shot her a playful eye. “The true dance is one of improvisation. We perform these moves and, as the dance wears on, cater them to our own desires.”

“I don’t think I understand.” 

“For instance-” Kodrun said and, just as they were about to execute another twirl, he suddenly took her by the waist and lifted her up. She ‘eeped’ and braced his arms as he spun them, and then placed her down on the opposite side. He released her, and clapped. “See? There was still a twirl, but I altered it to fit my preference.”

Sarah, still a little dazzled by being lifted so effortlessly by such a tall man, blinked back at Mariella, who was now standing at her side.

“Hello,” she said, giddily, and twittered her fingers at her. Sarah laughed and clasped her hand.

“So we can switch partners?” Sarah asked, resuming the steps with Marie as her new partner and with Kodrun at her right.

“Yes. It’s encouraged. Though, at your own discretion.” 

Step, clap. Step, twirl, clap. 

“I see...I think I got it.” 

“The dance is meant to devolve in time,” he added, moving so gracefully he gave even the simplest of moves beguiling nuance. “-as we become more comfortable with expressing ourselves. As we come to trust in our partners. We simply move as we please. Eventually, there will be no steps at all. Only rhythm.” She didn’t quite understand what he meant by that. But, before she could ask, he smiled and winked. “This dance is for you, Sarah. Enjoy it,” he said, just before locking arms with Markos and trading spots via twirl. Sarah smiled and took up Markos’ hand once again. He smiled back, and bowed his head. 

Their dance carried on in that same simplistic fashion for a short while as Sarah worked up the confidence to push herself. It seemed that the rest of the dancers were following her cue, which she wasn’t sure she liked. It put her under a bit of unnecessary pressure. She hardly knew anything about dancing. Only what Roldan had taught her, and that knowledge was geared very specifically for a formal waltz. She kept Marie as her primary partner for a time, until finally taking the leap and passing herself onto the next fae. 

She was startled when every other dancer traded partners as well.

The circle shifted. Churning as the steps carried them one way, but the change in parter another. They all twirled in time, their skirts or their tunics flaring out in fleeting blooms of red. She took the hand of her new partners, two caramel colored men with matching smiles, and nodded her head to them each respectfully. They stepped, clapped, twirled, and bowed together. And then...something fun happened.

She went to twirl, and had lifted her arms up in the air as she did so. She didn’t think anything of it, but they were both suddenly clasped by one of her partners who tugged and then turned them together in such a way that she found her back was suddenly pressed against his with their arms locked above their heads. She faced a new partner now, presented like an offering of sorts -though she was not accepted. 

The next round of the sequence began, and Sarah stared outward in alarm as the man holding her to his back carried her with him. He stepped forward. She stepped back. He, with his hands firmly guiding hers, clapped. He stepped backward. She stepped forward. And, in a very fast, fluid movement, untangled their arms and spun her away from him and into the care of the next partner. She hit the man’s chest the exact moment the rest of the circle clapped.

She gasped a little and caught her breath. That was a little exciting. She had no idea what the hell she was doing. Because of the rotation, it was ensured that Sarah’s partners would always be male, and she wondered if she had the ability to break from it. Especially considering that had also meant all of Jareth’s partners would be women. Speaking of Jareth…

She peered around and tried to find him. Theoretically, she should be coming closer and closer every time she switched partners. By some method, however, this did not happen. She spotted him directly across from her, currently focused on lifting and twirling a very giggly fae lady. She narrowed her eyes at the spot where his hands gripped her bare hips. Not that she had any room to judge him. She was being touched just the same. 

With a sense of obstination, she thought it was time to kick things up a notch. 

She closed her eyes and rolled her head as she twirled. The sand on her feet was both warm and cool, and made nice swishing sounds as they all moved in tandem. Her partner caught her hand and kept her twirling, moving her around him onto the left side. But then she tripped. Or maybe not. Maybe the way she’d stumbled back into him was completely intentional. It didn’t matter. At least not at the moment. He caught her by the hips as she pressed back against his torso, and she was acutely aware of the heat in her ears as she then rolled those hips back against his groin. 

She began to lower, and he lowered with her. His head bent forward towards the crook of her neck, and she lifted her arms high above his head. _ Clap _. 

She rocked her hips in his hands as they came to stand, and then she twirled away from him. She faced a new partner, who had just released his own onto another, and stared at him for a moment before starting the next sequence. 

_ The dance is meant to devolve _ , Kodrun had said. Devolve...why did that word tingle on her tongue? She felt...different, all of the sudden. More awake, and passionate, and bold. Was this the work of the faerie ring? Jareth was right, there was no stupor. Her senses were not impared in the slightest. If anything, they were sharper. She felt _ sharper _. Dangerous. Powerful. 

She faced her partner with her hands still pointed in the air, and engaged him without ever coming near. She stepped backward and clapped. He stepped forward and clapped. They were within an arms’ reach of one another, but neither made move to close that gap. She took a step forward. He took a step back. She twirled. He did not. 

When she landed, he was right in front of her. Something which startled her, but her gasp was concealed by the sound of his clap, held just above her head. She looked into his eyes. They were a dark brown with bright golden shards. She licked her lips as she thought of Jareth. As she wondered if he was paying any attention to her. Maybe she should provoke him a little more. 

She placed her hands on the raised arms of her partner, and gradually trailed them down to his torso as she moved her body. She moved in a serpent-like motion, all hip and waist and rolling shoulder, and let her eyes flutter dangerously on that strange beautiful man. She took her hands from him and stepped away, keeping in time with the music, but otherwise disregarded the sequence entirely as she danced like the gypsy she was dressed to be. 

She spun around and arched her head, which cast out her long, braided hair in a dramatic, whip-like motion. She turned and she turned and she turned, until she was caught by a pair of strong hands who lifted her high and turned her for her. The man, indiscernible from any of the others, released her and let the momentum slide her body down his, before catching her just before she could hit the ground. She found, in that split-second movement, that her hands had instinctively wrapped around his neck for balance. One leg braced between his, while he held the other bent sharply to his hip. He was crouched forward. One hand gripped the base of her thigh tightly while the other supported her back, and his curly, black locks fell downward and tickled her face. She looked winded, and blinked up at him nervously. The man smiled, readjusted his grip on her body, and then thrust her forward, sending her flying backwards through the air for another pair of hands to capture. 

She was caught by the waist and spun deftly. With her back to him, the faceless stranger lowered her to her feet and pulled her back against his body. He guided her, and ground her against him in a _ dance _ that she was more familiar with. She could still hear rhythmic claps every now and again, but the sound was growing fainter and fainter as more couples followed her lead and _ devolved _. 

She felt the beat of the drum vibrating the sand, felt it climbing up her thighs and ringing her ears, and gave in. 

  
  


* * *

  
  


Roldan stared in silence at the myriad dancers who spun in and out of his view. He was no longer alone, technically. A few Alvari had since joined him on the log, but none were paying him any attention. That was fine. He was too distracted to carry on a conversation anyway. 

It had started out innocently enough. She was so awkward, so nervous, he wondered if the dance would ever start at all. She was the bride, which meant she controlled the level of revelry that ensued. He should have known better after the way he’d seen her dance in Davion’s court…

She was a natural. Her body’s instinctive response to the music was carnal and shameless. It was graceful and eye-catching and…

And it didn’t help that she was practically naked. Every other woman was dressed exactly as she, and yet every time Roldan looked up, his eyes pointed her out immediately. He’d crossed his arms and turned his head in another direction. This was stupid. He’d done well rationalizing his _ urges _over the last couple weeks, and honestly the shame of his indiscretion hardly bothered him anymore. But seeing her breathless and sweating, devastatingly close to nude, and moving around like an Ognioux concubine, was hard to ignore. At one point, she’d crossed directly in front of him, falling in the arms of a sweaty Alvari boy, as she laughed and licked her teeth. She’d pushed herself away from him and swayed her hips provocatively as she recovered. He didn’t think she’d even noticed he was sitting within two feet of her, staring up hopelessly and with panic. She was soon to dance away however, and he shriveled in his spot.

  
  


* * *

  
  


Without signal, it seemed a new phase of the dance had begun. The transition was seamless, was carried on by the passion in her step and the thump in her chest. Sometimes she had a partner, but mostly she danced on her own, moving about without inhibition just like the dancers she’d watched when they’d first arrived. She didn’t care if anyone watched. Didn’t care if she tripped or stumbled -which she did, multiple times. They were always there to catch her. Always there to hold her and twirl her on with a smile. This must have been what Kodrun meant. About being comfortable and trusting in one another. The heat in her ears now extended to her nose, and she felt so wild and free she imagined her spirit could burst forth from her meek human shell at any given moment. She wanted to fly. She wanted to scream. She wanted to keep on dancing until her toes turned to dust. 

Alvari fae boys and girls had touched her in many ways. Which, from time to time, had her wondering if those same hands had been touching her husband as well. Or, more importantly, if his were touching them.

She’d done her best to be naughty. Gone as far as she was capable of in the effort to trigger his jealousy. It didn’t seem to be working though, which was annoying. They had not yet crossed paths, which meant to her that he did not want them to. After subjecting herself to much manhhandling, she finally gave in to the insecurity and tried to spy on him again. His placement was no longer across from her, but off to the side, which made him more difficult to scrutinize.

With that said, what she did see was more than enough.

It was hot by the fire, and they were all moving quite vigorously, so it was no surprise that he was covered in sweat. The red clay stripes he’d been painted with were melting and dripping down his chest and arms, and hair that had fallen loose from his braid now stuck to his face. His attention was focused on his partner, a petite brunette with freckles so heavy they could be counted from even at Sarah’s distance. She looked breathless, and moved in a way that feigned fatigue. Jareth’s hands were on her. One arm was wrapped tightly around her waist and the other locked her knee to his hip before she threw herself back. Her spine curled until her head touched the ground, and she clawed her hands through the sand as he stared down the length of her. His mouth was close enough to her stomach that he could have kissed it just then. He did not. But from the intent look she regarded in his eye, it no longer mattered if he did. 

It was an odd flow of consciousness, feeling, on one hand, freed in spirit, and on the other, completely and totally enraged. 

The emotion hit her so abruptly she nearly choked on it. It overtook her. Churned her stomach. Sent her head spinning. She very nearly broke from the dance to storm over and murder him with her fists while he was still distracted. 

And yet she didn’t. She didn’t because this was _ her _ dance. Because she was _ The Queen _. And she had far too much pride. Forsaking that arrogant, stupid, insufferable, lecherous, perverted, unforgiveable cunt they called King, Sarah took a very deep breath and cleared her mind. 

The dance progressed much more smoothly after that.

She’d found some lady partners, whom she was more comfortable with, and had really cut loose. She touched them in daring ways, urged their touch to be even more so. She heard herself panting, and accentuated it, playing off little moans as soft, nimble fingers, traced the rim of her belly button. 

She was angry. Deep down, she was still seething with jealousy. But she called upon every ounce of strength she had to smother it. To turn it to spite. To be wicked and wanton and free. 

It was surprisingly easy. Maybe it was the faerie ring enabling her. Regardless, when she felt a hand placed high on her inner thigh, pushing the fabric of her skirt between her legs, she parted them wide as they both lowered to the ground. 

She was too distracted, and had not enough care, to bother spying on Jareth anymore. She’d peer over here or there, give him the effort of a slanted side-eye. But really, she had more important things to do -like dance. She tried to convince herself of this, at least. Ignoring the fact that with every touch, with every flutter, with every less-than-innocent flirt, she hoped with all of her being that he was watching, and was broiling, and feeling just as slighted as she. 

Her eyes were closed as she twirled away. And then, as she knocked ankles and stumbled, she opened them in a panic and was suddenly jerked upright by a hand that had clamped around her arm. It twirled her in the opposite direction, and she landed with an “oof” flat against Jareth.

“Are you about finished?” he asked, his voice a little terse. It was low, but not quite angry, and Sarah found herself gaping up at him in surprise.

“Excuse me?” she asked, curling her fingers against his slick bare chest as she pushed off of him. He did not allow it, and only angled her arm so she was forced to face away from him instead. He bent it sharply behind her back, and pressed his free hand across her stomach, pushing her against him, and forced her to move along with the beat. 

“This act of yours,” he growled, and constricted her wrist behind her back as he pressed her ass into his pelvis. Despite her anger towards him, her body submitted and her hips churned. “As amusing as this has been, I fear I’m about at my limit.” 

She felt his fingers flex, dig into the flesh of her stomach, and she pushed her ass against him harder. She could feel the pressure of his cock throb in response. The sensation thrilled her. 

“Amusing? You think this is amusing, Jareth?” she asked, with deep offense, and whipped around as if to try and smack him in the face. He caught her free arm and jerked her into place, wrapped them both around his neck, and then released one to pull up one of her knees. 

“I think you’ve been playing a dangerous game,” he said, with warning, and promise, and something too dark and too nasty for her to handle right now. She felt hot. On fucking fire. She wanted to beat him and fuck him at the same time. She stared into his eyes with a deep, thoroughly bothered pout on her face.

“You’re the one who’s been playing. You fucking bastard.” 

Before she knew it, Sarah felt herself thrust backward. She hit something hard, something wooden, and she realized Jareth had teleported them out of the circle. They were now standing in darkness, against a caravan, a good fifty feet from the fire and well out of sight. She gasped, trying to orient herself, and then Jareth’s mouth came down brutally over her own.

She felt his hands claw around her face and squeeze as he forced his way in. She murmured in protest and recoiled, but he would not be rejected and bit her in response. She cried out and opened her mouth, and his tongue delved aggressively inside. She met it and kissed him back. Wincing, and whimpering, and undulating her body against the wall of the carriage as they devoured each other. She was so angry with him. So turned on. Her legs spread and her cunt ached to be fucked by him. Her hands were holding his wrists, and her chest heaved in the simple effort to be closer. 

He bit down on her lip and tugged as he pulled away, and she breathed laboriously with heavy, glazed eyes.

“I’ve had enough of your game, sweet thing,” he rumbled, sounding hoarse, and exhausted, and impatient. Sarah scowled at him, confused and still offended.

“My game? You’ve got some nerve,” she said, and tried shoving him away. Jareth sneered, rising to the challenge, and pushed her roughly against the carriage. 

“Indeed. Your provocations have them quite riled,” he said, and ran his nose over hers haughtily. “Is this what you wanted? My undivided attention?” His hands lowered down her body and so did his eyes. He leaned half a step away to regard her, and his question was answered by the way she kept herself pressed against the wall, without restraint, while he did so. 

“What I wanted was for you to get your fucking hands and your fucking eyes off all those women,” she snarled, without a shred of caution towards her vocabulary. Seriously, it was like her filter had just vanished. She held nothing back. Her ears were so hot they were starting to hurt. “Do you know how long I watched you slut around and make a fool of me? I swear I’ll-”

“Yes. Yes I do,” he cut her off, and jerked on her hips as he kissed her again. She put up less of a fight this time, and held up her arms submissively -which he was quick to take hold of. His grip twisted around her wrists but was not painful, and he pushed himself against her as they both moaned. “You should know by now you have my attention. -All of it. -Always,” he said, thrusting his tongue around her teeth between each utterance. The sound of Sarah’s breathing rose higher, and she curled a leg around his hip as she stood on tiptoe. 

“Really? That means you knew what you were doing-”

“Yes,” he breathed, and released her hands to hold her jaw instead, his composure slipping as his kiss gained passion. “I did it to spite you, after all.”

The whirlwind of Sarah’s arousal stuttered to a screeching halt. She stopped kissing him and pulled away.

“What-”

“Of course I knew you were watching. Do you honestly think I give a fuck about any woman who isn’t you? I touched them because I knew it would vex you. I knew it would provoke you and-”

“Are you serious? You fucking asshole!” Sarah cut him off, shoving him away with a force he was not expecting and then punched him hard in the gut. Jareth grunted and keeled over, holding his abdominals with one hand and keeping Sarah caged against the carriage with the other. Her chest puffed up and down with outrage and impulse, and then she realized what she’d done. In the brief moment he took to recover, Sarah found herself recoiling against the wall with fright. She’d punched him. She’d just punched Jareth. Why did she do that? Fuck. 

To both Sarah’s shock and confused horror, Jareth turned his head up to her with a wicked little grin. 

“That’s my girl,” he said, with a strained sense of amusement. He huffed and straightened himself up. “Would you like to do that again?”

Sarah blinked and stood dumbly. He looked wildly excited. Like he_ wanted _ her to hit him again. She was not expecting that. Not at fucking all. 

“What?” she asked. Jareth’s grin stretched and he placed both his forearms flat on the carriage wall. He was looking a little winded, and sagged his body against her. He leaned in close and brought his lips a hair's breadth from her ear. 

“The faerie ring brings out the primal side in us. Makes us bold. Makes us take the things that we want. You wanted to hit me just now, so you did,” he explained, a rationalization that, combined with the tingle of his breath, sent a shiver down her spine. “Your possessiveness turns me on. I wanted to see how far you could be pushed. Just how _ badly _you want me all to yourself,” he whispered, seductively, and dragged his hands down the wood. Sarah gulped and turned her head to the side, trying her best to see the truth on his face for herself in all this darkness. “So go ahead. Punish me. Show me I am yours.” 

“I...I’m not going to hit you, Jareth,” she said, still hesitant to believe he wasn’t angry she’d struck him. But he looked down right feral. He looked patient, and relaxed, and terribly shameless. 

“Ah, but you want to.”

“I’d like to murder you, if I’m being honest,” she snapped, and again was struck by how much she really meant it. Her words, they tumbled out of her mouth so quickly and with such conviction, it was actually alarming. 

“I don’t doubt it,” Jareth said, smiling to himself in the dark. “The ring frees us from self-constraints. Makes us impulsive. Makes us _ honest _ . We do as we please within the ring. And the things _ I _ watched _ you _ do, were very pleasing.” He turned his head towards her and kissed her. It was sweet, and it was consuming, and he closed his eyes as he pushed his body as close to hers as possible. “But it was too much to take,” he mumbled against her lips. “Seeing you like that…watching you forget all about me…” The cool, seductive tone of his voice had its way with her. She felt herself going lax against the carriage wall, and her eyes were just barely open. She’d been hesitant to touch him, but now lifted her hands into his hair and held him as he kissed her. “So...what will you do with me, Sarah? I’ve been terribly insolent tonight. Surely the Queen of Goblins won’t stand for such things.” 

He’d pulled away to stare her in the eye while he spoke, and she could see a very faint glimmer over the dusted blue of his irises. The sides of their noses pressed together, and she gulped. 

“You want me to punish you?”

She now knew how the faerie ring had affected her inhibitions, but what was it doing to Jareth? He’d never provoked her like this before. He’d teased, but never before _ asked _her for such dangerous roleplay. His shoulders were haunched towards her and she felt the tips of his fingers lightly poking into her hair. He was being so patient -but he wouldn’t be for much longer. His eyes lowered, blinked slowly, and then rose back to hers.

“Need I beg?” 

Oh. That tone. That sudden drop in tenor. It had her stomach jumping and a rock forming in her throat. The look in his eye was sharper, challenging, something that simply could not be refused. She rolled her lower lip over her teeth and then bit it. 

“Yes,” she said, with wide, excited eyes, as she reached out and ran her hands down his chest. He shifted on one foot, but otherwise stood perfectly still. The tips of her fingers trailed downward of his navel and tugged on the waist of his pants.

“Make me yours,” he said -not exactly the submissive request she desired- and then lowered his lips to her neck to ghost the next words across her skin... “Make me _ writhe _. Make me feel nothing but you.” 

Sarah shivered and breathed in unevenly. Her fingers were pausing at the laces tying the fly of his pants, and then pulled the little bow loose in an instant.

“Keep your hands against the wagon,” she commanded, and hooked a finger under the laces to tug them open. “-and don’t you dare move them.” She heard him exhale through his nose, and the faint scrape of his nails against the wooden planks as his fingers curled. She opened the fly of his pants and reached her hand inside. She squeezed the base of his cock and it flexed in her hand. She pushed her tight fist down, and then turned her head to his ear to whisper her own sweet seduction. “Now...tell me all the things you wish you could do.”

She started jerking him off, drawing out his length with each movement, and he pulsed and hardened, and fidgeted in place. He made a low noise in the back of his throat, and fought the urge to thrust his hips into her hand. 

“I’d like to grab a hold of your ass and spread your legs so I can eat your sweet little cunt. Spread you with my tongue and have your cum dripping down my throat like honey. I’d like to slam you against this cart and fuck you ‘til you scream-” and he gasped when she started jerking faster. “-‘Til you cry. ‘Til you're bruised and marked by me in a million wicked ways. I want to be inside you. To thrust, and fuck, and pump you full of my cum. I want to turn you around and hold your tight ass in my hands while I fuck it ‘til dawn. No woman has ever driven me so mad. No creature has made me _ want _so pitifully.” 

His voice was harsh, laced with a growl, and carried on a single laboured breath as he closed his eyes and focused on all he was imagining. He was like an iron rod in her hand; she felt her mouth watering and her thighs quivering in the wake of such words. The way he obeyed her so readily was erotic, was enticing, was a power she weilded too well. She licked her lips and tried to compose herself. 

“Bold words,” she said, breathily. “-but you really expect me to believe you felt nothing when you touched, and were touched by, all those beautiful women?” She kept her words as even as possible, needing to maintain control. This was going to be his punishment after all, whether he still realized it or not. He cracked a grin and rested his forehead against her shoulder.

“Did you feel nothing when you touched, and were touched by, those men?...and women?”

“I wasn’t paying much attention,” she said, looking up in the sky as she mentally combated the pressure building in her groin. It would be too easy to hook her leg around his hip and fuck him. Too easy to _ take what she wanted _. God, he was hard. The subtle rocking of his hips proved a near overwhelming temptation. Her breathing was getting heavier too, turning into soft little pants. 

“Neither was I.”

“You have a better poker face than I do then.”

His hands dragged a little further down the wall, but kept themselves secured. He was getting antsy, and lightly bit her shoulder in the effort to contain himself. 

“I’ve had more practice.”

“Not helping-” she said, sharply, and tried to glare at him from her peripheral. He ran his tongue along her shoulder, and nipped at her again.

“I want to kiss you.”

“I don’t care.” 

Ignoring his groan of frustration, Sarah sank to her knees and pulled his cock free. Jareth, closing his eyes in resignment, thumped his forehead against the side of the carriage. 

Sarah continued to jerk him off, though she now moved her hand slowly and inspected his form. She brought her mouth close, letting him feel the heat of her breath. A bead of precum formed on the tip from sheer anticipation, so she decided to let him suffer a little more. She angled his cock to the side, and lightly dotted her tongue along the base. 

He moaned, as if the sound were pulled from his lungs, and he had to readjust his feet in the sand. She massaged a spot beneath the head with her thumb, and traced the tip of her tongue up the length of him teasingly. 

If anyone saw them, she didn’t care. 

Jareth’s hands fisted against the carriage and he nearly growled from the immense effort it took him to obey her command. She was being such a cocktease. Literally. Making him wait what felt like so long between each minor caress. He wanted her to engulf him, to stare up at him while he sank himself deep into her throat. 

Her kisses and her licks traveled around his shaft, becoming wetter and more firm each time. He kept flexing in her hand, and her thumb was now slick with his fluids. She sucked on the side of his shaft and curled her tongue around it.

“Do you want me to suck on you, Jareth?” she asked. He thumped his forehead again.

“Yes…”

She smiled and licked all around the head, then pulled him into her mouth -just an inch- before pulling away. The way he sharply exhaled was empowering. 

“Do you want me to fuck you with my mouth? To let you come and then swallow it down?” She moved her hand lower and started to pump him again, letting him rest on her tongue as she faintly sucked on the head. Jareth cast his head back and gulped.

“Fuck- Yes-” he bit out, forming a tension in his arms as he tried not to punch a hole through the fucking wood. Sarah smiled.

“Are you sorry for being such a slut?” 

And then he smiled too. He couldn’t help it. He was breathing heavily, licking his lips and imaging how fucking glorious coming in her was going to be. 

“Yes,_ My Queen _,” he said, exasperatedly. Sarah sucked him in a little deeper, and he shuddered.

“Good...now...tell me why.” She pulled him into her mouth deeper and deeper between those words, and his cock throbbed in her mouth in agony. He slouched a little, nearing the edge where he would actually beg her for mercy -and then she gave it to him. 

She moved her hand to the base of his shaft and held him in place as she took as much of him into her mouth as possible. She hollowed her cheeks, and sucked strongly as she pulled back. He gasped, moaned, shot a jolt of cum onto her tongue and nearly buckled over her. She did not stop. She took him aggressively -a mercy he now regretted wanting. He indulged himself for a minute, and then, when her torturous pleasures began to cease, remembered she had given him another command. 

“You are my Queen. And I, your slave. My body is yours to pleasure and be pleasured by. I brought you disgrace by entertaining the affections of others. Others who could never, ever, even remotely compare to you.”

She slowed her rhythm as he spoke, and stared up at him curiously.

“Go on…”

“Gods- those women are like sandpaper,” he said, quickly, forcing the words passed gritted teeth as her tongue and her teeth did_ something _to him more stimulating than expected. His whole body jerked, and he groaned. Then, after finding his bearings once more, he carried on. “-They are like decrepit husks. Their laughter grates me like nails and their smell is dull and repulsive. You are so fucking soft, and hot, and wet.” He gave in and thrust into her mouth with each word. “You are gorgeous, and alluring, and wickedly cruel. Your cunt and your mouth are places I would happily die in. You are the only thing that gets me hard anymore. The only thing that I want to- Ah-fuck-yes-” He lost focus and one of his arms nearly fell slack. A tension moved through his body that Sarah recognized all too well. He was getting close. Very close. She imagined his face twisted in frustration as he muttered her name.

Having developed an extra sense for the exact moment Jareth would orgasm, Sarah pulled her hands and mouth away from him immediately, and then shoved his raging erection back into his pants. He gasped, and jerked from the pain such a movement caused. She stood, nearly shoving him out of her way, and stared him dead in the eye. His chest was heaving, his mouth open as he struggled to breathe. His eyes on her were livid. Like he was ready to pounce. Like he would murder her. 

She arched a brow at him arrogantly.

“As if,” she said, and reached out to flick him hard on the chest. Before he could react, she ducked under his arm and then patted him on the back. “Have fun dealing with that. Bye.” And then she ran away. Literally. With a pretentious skip. She ran off, and back to the party, as fast as she could. 

Jareth just stood there. Petrified. In pain. Beside himself and violently aroused. He was so discombobulated, he did not even try to stop her. Fucking minx. Fucking cockteasing harlot. Fuck, he wanted to come.

* * *

Roldan was sitting in his same old spot, sipping on his same old drink, by his same old self, when, suddenly, a very animated and out of breath Sarah jumped over the log and sat down beside him.

“Phew-” she said, to herself it seemed, as she glanced behind her like something had been chasing her. Roldan, surprised, looked at her, the darkness, then back again, and blinked. 

“Um…”

“Oh, hey,” she said, panting to catch her breath, and turned to acknowledge him with a wide smile. “What’s up?”

Roldan, feeling oddly disconcerted, gripped his cup a little tighter and darted his eyes away.

“You’ve caught me off guard. I thought you were still in the dance,” he said, eyeing said ring. Sarah exhaled through her nose and gripped the log as she leaned forward. 

“Oh. No. We left a little while ago,” she said, leaning back on her hands and crossing her legs. The adjustment trapped what little fabric that covered her groin tightly between her thighs. Roldan’s eyes fixated there for all of one second, and then glared away.

“I see...Where is Jareth then?” he asked, trying to deflect. Sarah tensed at the mention of his name and peered back into the shadows.

“Um...I don’t know,” she said, and gave him a smug little shrug. “Probably in the field somewhere...taking care of some things.” She snickered to herself and he eyed her strangely. She was staring out at the fire, in profile, with a very wry curl of the lips. The red clay on her cheeks had melted and been smeared, emulating a very trashy rouge. He was foolish to gander for so long, for any amount of time at all. It left him ignorant to the strange state of anxiety that had her turning abruptly towards him and leaning in close to his face. “Hey-” she said, and he flinched back. “Do you want to dance?” 

She was feeling a little terrified of whatever retribution Jareth might seek on her in only a moment or two, so was eager to find herself both a distraction and a shield as soon as possible. Roldan would do. 

“What?” Roldan asked, like an idiot. The energy in Sarah’s expression was unnerving him, and so was the pronounced curve of her hip from the way she was angling herself towards him.

“Come dance with me,” she said, goodnaturedly, and reached for his hands. His clasped around hers instinctively, but she only plopped back into place when he failed to move at all. 

“I don’t think so,” he said, and awkwardly glanced over the crowd of dancers. “Not really my thing, if you couldn’t tell.” 

Sarah pursed her lips and let go of his hands. So he was extra determined on being a grump tonight, was he? Good thing she was the motherfucking Queen. 

“You know, you and Jareth act like you hate everyone but I don’t think that’s true at all,” she said, and tilted her head as she eyed him. Roldan frowned.

“Oh?”

“No. I think you’re just a couple of introverts. But all you need is a little push.” 

It was probably the faerie ring making her _ bold, _but at the moment the cause didn’t matter. Roldan had been sitting all alone like a sad sack the entire night. She would no longer stand for it. She told herself this was her new mission -thoughts that she forced to take precedence over wondering where the hell Jareth was, what he was doing, what he was planning, whether he’d used a King’s discipline to soothe his blue balls, or was currently fiercely jerking off into the grass. 

Roldan was scowling at her and did not look at all pleased. Sarah scoffed at him and shoved him in the shoulder.

“It’s been decided. So come on. Take off your clothes.”

Roldan looked around and blinked dumbly.

“What?”

“Your shirt? Your shoes? Here, we’ll start with your gloves-” and she reached out and grabbed one of his hands. She pulled on one finger and he roughly jerked away.

“Are you serious?” he asked, sounding ornery but it did not phase her. Riding the power high Jareth had given her, Sarah squared her shoulders and looked down her nose at him.

“Deadly. As Queen, I’m ordering you to get naked. Now.” 

To her, in her current mental condition, such words were hilarious. Not to Roldan however. To Roldan it was as if he’d been condemned to death. He stared at her pitifully for a moment, and then, with a clenched jaw, began pulling off his gloves. Where the fuck was Jareth? 

His gloves came off, and Sarah reached out to unbutton his jacket-

“I can do it-” Roldan snapped, actually shooing her away as if her touch would somehow contaminate him. Sarah pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes. Geez. He was more uptight than she was. 

“Fine, fine,” she said, facetiously, and raised her hands in defeat. She looked away, waited a dreadfully boring three and a half seconds, and then moved to the ground and tried unzipping one of his boots. 

“Stop.” 

Against his better judgement, Roldan commanded her, sternly, and she listened. Her hands, which had been holding onto his left leg, held themselves suspended as she looked up at him.

“What is the big deal? I’m just helping you along-”

“You are the Queen,” he snapped. Sarah sat back on her heels. Roldan, looking uncomfortable on a number of levels, shifted away from her and averted his gaze. “You should not prostrate yourself before me-before _ anyone _ of lower station. Ever.” 

Not appreciating his condescending tone, Sarah stood to her feet and placed her hands firmly on her hips. 

“Fine,” she said, and exuded a sudden air of authority. “I won’t touch you. Since you prefer it, I will stand here and watch.” 

Roldan did not react right away. He just stared at her -like someone would pinch him and wake him up at any minute. Goddamn faerie ring. Sarah was stubborn and bullheaded by nature, of course its influence would turn her into a tyrannical little tart. She stood tall over him, offering him full view of her shapely figure still shining with sweat-

His head angled down, but his gaze remained spitefully on hers, as he finished shrugging out of his jacket. He couldn’t believe this. It was degrading. To have to obey her commands like this…

He set his jacket beside him over the log, and begrudgingly removed his boots and socks. Knowing she would probably order it anyway, he also rolled his pant legs up to his knees -properly. 

With a very satisfied curl of the lips, Sarah took half a step back.

“Stand up,” she ordered, and he did. She raised one of her hands and placed an index finger to the well of her throat. “Now, unbutton your shirt….to here,” she said, and trailed her finger down to the bottom of her sternum. Oh, the fun he imagined she must be having at his expense. He wanted to growl, but no sound came. He only did as she bid. He unclasped the first three buttons, and then lowered his arms back to his sides. With her hands back on her hips, Sarah stepped towards him and stared him up and down. It was a power play that reminded him far too much of her husband. Where the hell was he, anyway? 

He flinched but did not stop her when she reached out and started pulling the hem of his shirt from his pants.

“Now, take it off.” 

While it was she who was staring up at him, Roldan had never felt smaller. He inhaled through his nose and stood off against her well-steeled expression. Yes, the ring had gifted her confidence and conviction, and there was no way she would back down. He reached for the bottom of his shirt and pulled it up and over his head. He turned back and tossed it atop his jacket, then held out his hands to her with an irritated shrug.

“Happy?” 

Sarah’s eyes flickered down his chest, then she looked over her own stomach and wiped two fingers through the gooey, red clay. 

“As my dear friend Becky would say…” she started, and drew marks below his clavicles and over his arms that matched hers. “If you’ve got it, flaunt it.” She placed two diagonal dashes down by his hips, and then stepped back. She placed her hands back on her hips and looked over her handiwork. She didn’t bother marking the rest of him. She figured he’d been tortured enough.

“Got what?” he asked. Sarah, staring blatantly over his finely carved physique, broke into laughter and then turned away.

“Oh my God, you’re so dense,” she said, and then grabbed one of his hands. “Come on already. I’ll be damned if you don’t have a good time.” 

She dragged him behind her as they entered the faerie ring, and wove them seamlessly into the foray of dancers. The circle was not turning very quickly, but it was turning, so Sarah kept hold of his hand while she pranced, and skipped, and twirled into groove. 

Roldan scowled and stumbled behind her. This really was not his strong suit. She looked perfectly carefree as she smiled and bounded, her skirt fluttering high and her braid whipping around her. He didn’t know what to do. At least a waltz had order. She turned back towards him and skipped in reverse.

“Well? You just going to walk behind me?” she asked, teasingly, and hopped forward to surprise him by assuming a waltzing stance. “Come on. I know you can move. Let loose a little. It won’t kill you,” she said, and took the lead by dramatically swaying her hips and turning them about in a circle. Roldan did not dare touch her any more than necessary, and stared down at her with a frown. 

“I’m not the type of person who_ lets loose _,” he said, moving along with her awkwardly and trying so damn hard not to stumble into her. She was not watching her form at all, and was just throwing them about in a circular motion. 

“I know. I don’t think I am either, but here we are.” She rolled her eyes and shrugged. The atmosphere was definitely getting to her, perhaps more strongly now that she knew what was happening and had ceased fighting it. She felt whimsical. Free. It was a happy state of mind. She just didn’t care. He did not respond and only continued to frown at her. Refusing to let him ruin the mood, she inhaled sharply and turned herself away from him. She pressed back against his torso and held her hands over his, elevating them above her head._ Clap _.

“What are you-”

“Here, I’ll make you a deal,” she said, knowing he was feeling awkward enough to follow her lead without question as she rolled her hips into him and took a step back. He nearly tripped in the effort to avoid making contact with her. She laughed to herself. “If you can give me one honest hip roll, I will stop peer-pressuring you.” She secured his hands to her hips, pointed her toe, and clapped.

He did not respond. Did not move at all. She did, however, feel his hands flex on her hips. She peered back over her shoulder at him, and grinned.

“Well? You up for the challenge?” 

Roldan glowered as if this was the most horrible situation he could ever possibly be in. For a moment she considered taking offense against such an expression, but decided it didn’t matter. She started to dance without him, swaying about and moving her body like he wasn’t there at all. She placed her hands over his, making sure he felt good and uncomfortable, and then turned herself back just slightly.

“I’m still waiting.”

Roldan, surprised by his own level of conviction, stared down at her with a tightly clenched jaw.

“I’m not going to do that.” 

She puckered her lips and frowned at him, then narrowed her eyes and huffed.

“Fine. Party-pooper. Maybe you’ll have better luck with them,” she said and, before he could properly brace himself, she locked down on one of his hands, jerked them both forward and side-stepped so he stumbled past her. She made it into a very clumsy kind of twirl, and cast him off onto the next partner. 

A pretty fae lady caught his hand, not yet knowing what a terrible dancer he would be, and pulled him in close. He glared down at the woman just as he had Sarah, and held onto her just as awkwardly. Well, at least it wasn’t just her then. Thoroughly pleased with herself, she laughed at him one last time, and then skipped out of line and over to Mariella.

She caught Marie’s hand as she was twirled away, and the spritely little nymph squealed with delight.

“There you are!” she said, taking up Sarah’s hands effortlessly and twirling them this way and that. Sarah smiled and laughed, and enjoyed the vertigo it gave her. 

“Are you having fun?” Sarah asked. Mariella’s smile was so wide it would probably be stuck like that.

“Tremendously. I am so glad we came,” she said, holding the tips of Sarah’s fingers high in the air as she twirled her under her arm. 

“Yeah. They seem like good people. I like them.” And then, while it was still fresh in her mind, she wrapped up Marie in another mock-waltz. “Did you see? I even got Roldan to join,” she said, mischievously, and darted her eyes over in his direction. Mariella’s brow rose very high, and she chuckled.

“Oh. Oh my gods, you didn’t. How?” she asked, trying to restrain herself as she watched him stiffly endure one exceptionally fervid woman after another. 

“I ordered him. On pain of death -naturally.” 

Sarah pointed her nose in the air and bobbed her head pretentiously. Mariella made a little O with her mouth.

“My, you are wicked. I suppose I ought to make my way over to him now.”

“Oh geez. Are you still on that?” Sarah asked, and shook her head in amusement. “Playing the long game here, aren’t you?” she added. Mariella bit her tongue.

“Oh, I simply haven’t made up my mind. I’m enjoying my musings well enough as it is. I think I’d rather tease him for now.” -Which was something Sarah understood very well. When it came to an exposed feminine ankle, Roldan was more awkward than a sexually enlightened eighth-grader. Jareth was right. It was just too easy sometimes. 

Oh. Speaking of Jareth…

He’d been gone an awfully long while, hadn’t he? Just what the fuck was he doing out there…

Sarah squeaked when she was suddenly torn away from Marie and out of the dancing circle entirely. She was pulled on the side of the fire, and fumbled in the sand as she landed on Jareth.

“Good evening, love,” he said, oh-so-cheerfully. Sarah stared up at him, looking all frenzied and frightened. He gave her a shit-eating grin. “Have you been enjoying yourself?”

Sarah blinked and licked her lips. He didn’t look murderous. That was good. Maybe.

“Um, yes. Where have you been? You feeling alright?” she asked, tentatively. Jareth laughed and straightened her up.

“Why shouldn’t I be?” he countered. Sarah’s stare on him twitched. Was he...should she call his bluff? “You look thirsty, darling. Here, I’ve brought you a drink,” he continued and forced a cup into her hands. Sarah eyed him suspiciously. 

“You seem a little too chipper to be trusted right now,” she said. His grin curled on one side. He’d produced a drink of his own, and she watched him snicker into his cup as he drank. “Something tells me it would be better to start running again,” she added. Jareth took a deep breath through his nose and turned his attention back to her.

“Oh, please do. I would just love to tackle you face first to the ground right now,” he said, with a very dangerous laugh. Sarah, so very happy to be surrounded by witnesses, turned away meekly and sipped from her cup.

“You did ask me to punish you…” she mumbled. Jareth took hold of her hips and pulled her forward. Her drink splashed up on her face.

“And you did not disappoint. But, my love-” and he angled his head down to speak in her ear. “-do not think that we will ever be_ tit for tat. _” He pulled away with a sinister grin, and brought her back into the dance. She licked her lips as they locked eyes, as his hands took hold of her body possessively. And then, because she was just full of all kinds of abandon tonight, she gulped down the contents of her cup and then tossed it somewhere into the dark.

“Fine. But if that’s the game you want to play, we’re going to need a lot more to drink.”

* * *

  
  


Sarah assumed she enjoyed herself the rest of the night. She assumed, because come the next morning she would not be able to remember it. The party had started to get a little wild. Jareth was very much an enabler, and being within the faerie ring did not allow her the capacity to pace herself as forewarned. 

She drank quite a bit. At least, she thought she did. And so did Jareth. A right giddy couple of lushes they were, fawning and fumbling all over one another -and anyone else who happened to cross their path. They danced, and played, and laughed with fae whose faces were blurred, irrelevant, and incomplete. The night started to break into sequences after that. One moment she was here, the other, there. It seemed that whenever she closed her eyes, a darkness would span that lasted a little longer each time. She thought maybe she was blacking out. She’d never blacked out before.

She remembered dancing. The heat of the fire on her face. The grit of the sand on her toes as she twirled. She remembered hanging onto Jareth for dear life, and accidentally hurting him when she caught on his braid as she fell. She closed her eyes, and the next time they opened she saw Kodrun’s face. He had an arm around Jareth and they were all talking about...something. She heard herself laugh but couldn’t remember why. His words were indiscernible to her. She blinked, and the darkness was back. 

She was dancing again; this time with Markos, and she looked around as she wondered where Jareth had gone. She found him, and saw a half-naked woman putting her hands all over him. She tilted her head, curious of the way she no longer cared. 

She blinked and the image turned black. It was quiet. There was nothing. 

And then she was kissing him. She was holding onto Jareth’s neck and pulling herself up. He was bracing her haggardly, too tightly, with both arms wound around her back. There was music but- where-where the hell were they? No longer by the fire, she knew that much. She pulled back and gasped, and then it all went black again.

It was quiet. It was cool. She thought maybe she was asleep.

She was walking. It was colder now and not as bright. She looked up and Jareth was in front of her, holding her by the wrist and leading her away from the fire. She blinked at the back of his head, then looked around and tried to orient herself. How did they get here? Where were they going? The way his braid stretched down the length of his back made her giggle. She yelled at him and might have called him Davion. He glanced back with a smile, and it faded along with everything else as she no sooner fell back into darkness.

This one lasted longer. It felt like eternity. Was she awake? Was she conscious? Where the fuck was her body? The music...could she still hear music? She felt it. Felt it moving. Around her toes. Up her thighs. Filling her whole -just like Kodrun had said.

She opened her eyes and saw a roof above her. It was red. Or orange maybe. Green? What? Her neck was arched sharply back and it was hard to breathe. She scowled, and turned her head to the side. She was laying down. On a bed? But it felt lumpy. No, no they were pillows. 

She moaned loudly and her body undulated. There was an odd sensation pinching her neck and she felt dizzy. She closed her eyes and the blackness threatened to take her once more. But this time she fought it. This time she held on...to the thing moving over top of her.

The first sensation to truly come back was the sound of her own breathing. It was loud. Too loud. It roused her and pulled her back from the abyss. She felt weightless. Floating. Her eyes fluttered open and struggled to see. Everything was blurred. She gulped, and then her back bowed and she screamed. She screamed as loud as she could. An orgasm had hit her so suddenly, it jolted her the rest of the way back to consciousness. She moaned and panted, and turned her head from left to right. She felt a hand moving through her hair, and tender lips covering her open mouth.

She kissed him. She closed her eyes and kissed him. He was moving inside her, fucking her in a way that, through the buffer of her wayward state of consciousness, felt gentle. He tasted of mead. Of sugar, and honey, and her. 

“J-Jareth?” she asked, her eyes opened to tiny slits as if the low candle light of their surroundings blinded her. He hummed into her mouth, and placed a hand on her hip as he held her down. Sarah, gaining more and more lucidity, forced her eyes to adjust and tried pushing him away. He was not fucking her gently. “W-where are we? How the hell did we get here?” she asked. She felt him smile but he did not cease. Her body moved in waves against the pillows as he pushed in and out of her. God, it felt so good. She could feel another orgasm building already.

“Do you not remember?” he asked, teasingly. Sarah swallowed and licked her dry lips. She looked around the room and saw a table and chairs off to her side. Whose...whose tent was this? 

“No. I don’t. Can-can you stop? I don’t-”

She started to struggle and, upon sensing her distress, Jareth stopped and eased up to his forearms. 

“Calm down,” he said, softly, and brushed the matted hair away from her face. She took a deep breath and composed herself. He stared into her eyes and regarded her carefully, tilting his head as he did so. “Do you really not remember anything?” Sarah shook her head. 

“I don’t know. I...I think I blacked out. Where are we?” 

Jareth blinked at her, genuinely surprised. 

“In a tent. It was offered to us for the night.”

She swallowed and looked around. Her eyes were strained wide but they still had a hard time seeing. Her head felt severed from her body. Like she could be cast away from herself again at any moment. 

“What...how did…”

Jareth, still hard and sheathed inside her, adjusted his hips as he leaned down to kiss her shoulder, and she actually moaned from that minor sensation. 

“We walked here. Together.” 

She nodded like she understood but she really didn’t. She was acutely aware of his presence within her. It was nearly too much. She felt swollen and over-stimulated. How...how long had they been in here?

“What...we’re staying here? But what about the goblins and the banthas?” she shook her head and sounded oh-so-fretful. Jareth burst out laughing.

“The goblins and the banthas? Rest easy, love. They’ve set up their own camp for the night,” he assured her, and kissed her on the neck. “While I find your priorities greatly askew at the moment, your consideration for them has been duly noted,” he added, snickering against the sensitive skin of her neck and sending a tingle down her spine. She blinked, vaguely realizing how stupid she just sounded, and trudged through the mud of her stupor to get her fucking shit together. 

“Okay. Okay. And um- have I been- so was I-” She started stammering, blinking rapidly as her brain struggled more than should have been necessary. Had she been passed out just now? And did that mean that Jareth was...was...was it still considered rape?

“Are you asking if I’ve been fucking you while you were unconscious?” Jareth asked. Sarah paled and gaped up at him. Yes. That was exactly what she was asking, and was in deep contention over whether or not an answer of yes would actually bother her. It should. Normally, it would. But the fae ring was still burning her ears and, in the moment, she just wanted him to start rocking his hips again. She thought he looked a little disappointed just then, but it was fleeting. “No, Sarah. I have not,” Jareth said, to her immediate relief. He stared down at her like he couldn’t believe they were even having such a conversation. “You’ve been fully cognizant and consenting this entire time.” Sarah blinked in confusion, but laid idly as he leaned down and started kissing her neck once more. “In fact…” he mumbled, and pulled his hips away before gliding back in, slowly. “-you were the one who _ insisted _we come in here.”

She felt her body moving again, lurching in little waves in response to the hard, but careful, articulation of Jareth’s cock thrusting in and out of her. Her jaw dropped open and her hands sprang to his arms in order to brace herself. 

“I...I don’t remember…” she said, in a high pitch that teetered on a moan. Jareth groaned, constricting his fingers in her hair as he hooked his hips sharper.

“A pity. We’ve been having quite a lot of fun.”

“Jareth-” she squeaked, anxiously, and he quickly pet her head.

“Shh…” he whispered, gentling her, and he ghosted his lips across hers. She blinked at him slowly, with lids laid heavy. He was smiling at her. At least, she thought he was. “Relax,” he said, and held her tenderly. “Just enjoy it. I’m determined to get a fifth orgasm out of you.” 

“F-fifth?!” she asked, alarmed, and suddenly wide awake. Her body became animated, which was something Jareth misinterpreted. His hand moved to brace her by the back of the neck, and he bit her as his thrusts became more aggressive.

“You were screaming so beautifully before. I want to hear it again,” he said, and her back bowed when he pressed his thumb into the soft spot near her hip. She gasped, moaned, lost what little control she had. Everything felt so intense. Was it the alcohol? Was it the fungus? That seemed like a pointless thing to ponder at the moment. Her legs started fighting restlessly and she dug her nails into his biceps.

“Ah-J-Jareth!”

“That’s right. Scream for me,” he growled, and relished the feel of her tiny nails piercing his skin. She pressed her chest up against his, and arched her neck so severely she could see the back wall of the tent behind her. Her moans turned louder and louder, rose to ear-splitting tones. Her hands clawed up his arms and pulled at the back of his shoulders. She couldn’t- She was going to-

She heard a very loud, low sound as Jareth moaned painfully into her neck. Her nails had cut into him with all their might, and then pulled downward savagely. He was sure there was now blood streaming down his back, but the shudder it caused him only brought him closer to climax. His arms buckled and he dropped himself to engulf her shoulders, and buried his face in her hair. Sarah’s tightly tensed fingers jittered on the precipice, and, as the orgasm finally hit her, they cut down his back once again.

She screamed. Screamed bloody murder. Without any care or awareness of anything at all. It was too much. Too overwhelming. She blinked up at the ceiling. Once. Twice. And then everything turned black. 

* * *

Sarah woke up the next morning feeling like a plank of wood. It was hard to move, and everything ached. She rolled her head -as that was the only thing in her control at the moment, and scowled as she willed her eyes to open. 

Her surroundings came back to her slowly. She was in a tent. Green (definitely not orange), and was laying on a nest of pillows. She inhaled deeply through her nose, and finally her limbs joined in the effort to move. She drew up her legs, and realized they were naked. She pinched her forehead and looked down. She was still wearing her Princess Leia outfit, which was not exactly covering her at the moment. She inhaled again, and winced at the pang that wracked her head. 

Mariella was sitting on a stool close by, reading a book and nibbling on a peach. She looked over to Sarah when she started groaning, and closed the book in her lap.

“Oh, good. You’re finally awake,” she said, too damn spirited for Sarah’s liking. Her hangover was intense. It took all her might to sit herself up. 

“What the...where the hell am I?” she asked. Mariella stared at her for a moment, then swallowed.

“We’re in the Alvari camp. We joined in their fire last night, remember?”

Sarah managed to both nod and shake her head at the same time. 

“Yes. Of course I remember that. I just…” and she groaned. Fuck. Her head was pounding. She couldn’t think straight. Mariella gave her a moment to compose and waited patiently. “How did I get in this tent?” she asked. Mariella tilted her head.

“The Favraier gifted it to you and His Majesty last night, as part of his hospitality,” she explained. Sarah pressed a palm to her temple as she stared around the tent. It was decently sized, with a vanity and dresser to her left (where Mariella sat) and a small dining table and chairs to her right. The pile of pillows she’d been sleeping on occupied a good fourth of the tent, and in the far corner, beside the door flaps across from her, was a plump upholstered sitting chair.

“So where...whoever owns this tent, where did they sleep?” she asked. Mariella looked around.

“Oh. No one occupies this tent. It’s reserved for guests. The Alvari are always prepared to receive visitors.”

Ah. Of course. Sarah sat up a little further and ran a hand around the back of her neck. She was trying, gradually, to recall as much of the previous night as possible. She remembered everything up until she and Jareth started drinking. That’s when things...got a little hazy.

“Marie…” she mumbled. Mariella sat attentively.

“Yes?”

“I didn’t...do anything crazy last night, did I?” she asked, nervously. She felt dirty. Her mouth was cotton and tasted foul, and she could feel the rat’s nest in her hair. She shifted again and something hot seeped out of her… Oh. Shit. 

“Define _ crazy _,” Mariella said, precariously. Sarah glared up with a look of pure mortification. Mariella was wincing. That was definitely not a good sign. She remembered random bits of partying. Jareth being close to her side. She remembered his hands and...and now the painful throb in her pubic bone made sense. 

“Oh God,” Sarah said, and covered her face with her hands. It was coming back to her now. Not all of it, but enough. She and Jareth had fucked like rabbits and she- did she pass out on him? “I wasn’t...embarrassing? Right? Please?” She peaked at Mariella from between her fingers and nearly sobbed at the way the nymph was tentatively nibbling her lip. Fuuucccckkk.

“You…” she started, and made a very pained expression as she glanced away and searched for the most gentle of words. “You and His Majesty enjoyed yourselves. That’s for sure.” 

“Fuck me-” Sarah said, throwing herself back down on the pillows. Mariella huffed.

“Yes. We know.”

“What?”

Mariella bit her lip again. She knew Sarah would appreciate not knowing, but she would also drive herself mad otherwise. She kept her eyes averted, and gave a little shrug.

“You uh...you were very vocal about it. If I say so myself. Master Roldan and I...were starting to worry for your safety a little bit,” she said, and, at the mention of Roldan’s name, did Sarah lose her shit entirely. She sat up abruptly and whipped a pillow at Mariella as hard as she could. 

“WHAT?!” she hollered. Mariella braced against the onslaught. “Jesus Christ…” and she buried her face in her hands and fell dead into the pillows. “Oh God. That’s so embarrassing. Please, kill me now,” she mumbled, curling into a little ball as she imagined what they all must think of her now. And Jareth- where the fuck was Jareth? 

“You shouldn’t be embarrassed Sarah. It’s perfectly natural-” and then Sarah shut her up with a glare. Mariella smiled and changed directions. “We were celebrating your marriage after all. If it’s any consolation, you were not the only couple who took to their rooms at that time.” 

Sarah stewed for a moment, and then remembered the orgie she was determined not to let happen. Maybe Marie was right. These people were so sex-crazed that her indescretions probably didn’t phaze them at all. She used this to rationalize her shame, and then sat up again.

“At least they were private about it, I guess,” she said, roaming her eyes awkwardly about the room. Mariella smiled and set the book back on the vanity. 

“See? You’ve nothing to fret over. Are you feeling hungry? Thirsty perhaps? There is a breakfast platter and some water waiting for you on the table over there,” Mariella said, and gestured towards such. Sarah scratched the back of her head and looked up at the table, and then suddenly clutched her stomach with her hand.

“Actually I’m...I’m feeling kind of nauseous. Oh geez…” she said, and keeled over as her aching stomach finally woke and joined the party. Fuck. She felt horrible from head to toe. Was there a bucket nearby?

“Oh no...Here, have some water,” she said, and quickly dashed to the table and poured her a glass. She hunkered down and handed it to her, and that was when Sarah finally acknowledged Marie was dressed in another riding outfit. 

“Thanks…” she mumbled, and drank. She wasn’t sure if that made her feel better or worse. “What time is it?”

“Um...around ten, I think?” she said, and peered upwards as she mused. Sarah scowled.

“What? Seriously? We’re going to fall behind schedule-” she said, and tried to stagger to her feet. She failed, and huffed as vertigo sent her tumbling back to the ground. Mariella eased her down with a hand.

“Take it easy. You had a considerable amount to drink last night. As a human, I can only imagine how terrible you’re feeling,” she said, and Sarah nodded in agreement. “His Majesty did not want you disturbed...He did, however, want to know the moment you woke up. I’ll go fetch him for you,” she said and, before Sarah could respond, was shuffling to her feet and out the door.

Sarah growled as daylight blinded her in Mariella’s wake, and she laid herself back down in the nest. A few minutes passed, and then she heard the tarp door lifting open again. She looked over, glared really, at the irritatingly chipper smile of Jareth, her Goblin King.

He stared at her for a moment, and then entered the room.

“Good morning, darling,” he said and, knowing his tone, he was teasing her. Sarah rolled her eyes and sat up again. “How did you sleep?”

He was wearing a fresh pair of black, leather pants and a white puffy shirt that opened low in the chest. He looked freshly bathed, without an ounce of the hangover she was enduring. She also noticed his hair was still braided. 

She gave him a look that could cause death, and stood to her feet.

“That good, eh?” he asked, trying not to laugh at her as she dragged herself to the table. She had a hand over her stomach, and was wincing with tightly closed eyes.

“I feel like I got hit by a truck,” she said, her voice breaking from wear. Jareth approached and turned her to face him. 

“Let me see,” he said, and ran his thumbs along her forehead as he inspected her. She stood still, barely able to do anything more, and waited. She felt a thruming in her head that combated her headache, and soon, both faded to nothing. “How’s that?”

Sarah inhaled deeply and rolled her head.

“Better...a lot better actually. Thank you,” she said, and turned away from him. She stared down at her breakfast -some assorted fruits, jams, and toast- and forced herself to pluck a raspberry. “But my stomach is still weird. I feel like I might be sick.” She frowned, and so did he. He looked over her and tucked her hair behind her ear.

“Hm...I’ll ask the Mavra to check in on you. I’m adept at many forms of healing, but it’s not my most proficient discipline.” 

Sarah swallowed another berry and nodded. His hand lowered back to his side and he stepped away from her. Sarah looked over and spoke before he could decide to leave.

“So, uh, what happened after I passed out last night?” she asked, with a sharp inflection. Jareth paused and tilted his head.

“What do you mean?” was his _ innocent _response. Sarah narrowed her eyes.

“You know exactly what I mean.” They held each other’s stare, and then he grinned.

“Are you wondering, perhaps, if I had my wicked way and kept on fucking you until I was well good and spent?” he asked, and almost laughed. She didn’t get what was so funny about that. “Or, being the well-mannered gentleman that I am, put you back together and endured, on my lonesome, an absolutely blood-curdling ache in my balls for the _ second _ time in one night?” He’d shuddered as he said that, and actually curled a hand out in front of him. Such a physical reaction had her inferring, hoping at least, that the latter scenario was the case. Knowing Jareth to be Jareth, however, she wasn’t exactly holding her breath. 

“Yeah. Read my thoughts exactly,” she said, and sucked another berry into her mouth. Her stomach was starting to settle. Finally. Jareth’s grin curled on one side, and he stared at her haughtily. 

“Hm...guess you’ll never know,” he said, and she shoved him when he ran a teasing finger down her arm. He laughed when she called him an ass, and recoiled when she shoved him again, then finished stepping away to go fetch the Mavra. She let him go this time, staring after him discreetly as he lifted the door flap. “Can you really not remember anything?” he asked, still in disbelief over the matter. Sarah shrugged.

“Kind of. It’s coming back to me. In pieces. I think,” she said, switching over to grapes, and eating one after another as she suddenly felt very, very hungry. Jareth’s eyes flickered down as a sad kind of smile twitched on his face.

“Hm. Pity,” he said, and stepped across the threshold. 

Very soon after Jareth left, Mariella returned. Which made Sarah think she’d been waiting just outside the tent all along. As Marie opened the flap, Sarah spied the forms of Alvari fae walking by, and could hear the sound of their chatter. She wondered where exactly this tent was located within the camp, and what everyone else was currently getting up to. Was she the only one who’d slept in?

“His Majesty says he’s sending for the Mavra. Sarah, are you alright?” she asked. Sarah nodded and sat in the closest chair.

“I’m fine. Just hung over. Jareth’s just being over-protective,” she said, waving off the issue. Mariella gave a tiny sigh of relief and joined her at the table. 

“Oh. Good. I was worried for a moment. Alvari priests are expert healers. Although...His Majesty also seems very skilled in this field. I thought perhaps you suffered an illness he could not handle.”

“I don’t know. He fixed my headache, but apparently nausea is above his capabilities. I’m not even going to bother trying to dissect all that.” 

“Right….Medicine is a very complicated discipline. Things which we assume would be simple are often the most difficult, and vice versa,” Mariella explained. Sarah nodded along as she ate a piece of toast. 

“Hm...we haven’t gotten to medicine yet. He just started me on meta-casting.”

Mariella’s eyes widened and she sat back in her seat.

“Goodness. Really?” she asked, and glanced around as if someone was pulling a prank on her. “That’s a very odd thing for a human to learn. Although...I suppose as a Queen, human or not, you are fully entitled…” she went on. Sarah hummed as she stared at Mariella vacantly. She didn’t really have anything to say to that, as she didn’t really know why Jareth was teaching her about anything at all. He’d said it was so she could protect herself with preventative knowledge, but their curriculum didn’t seem to have anything to do with that…

Both women looked over at the sound of the tent flap opening. The Mavra entered, without introduction, and gently closed it behind her. Her hair was done in the same twist of braids from the previous night, and today she wore a dark blue tunic with a gold lotus design. Mariella stood from her seat and bowed. Sarah (not knowing what else to do) mimicked her. 

“No need to bow,” Mavra said, giving them both a tired smile as she came near. Mariella moved away from the table in case the woman wished to sit. Sarah wondered why she allowed herself to age in the first place. 

She was short and plump, and had deeply carved wrinkles...everywhere. She wore heavy kohl eyeliner and had a prominent mole on the left corner of her forehead. 

“Good morning, Mavra,” Mariella said. 

“Yes, good morning,” Sarah hastily repeated. Mavra nodded and came to stand before her. She took Sarah’s hands and stared up into her eyes. “I hope we haven’t bothered you. I’m fine, really. I think my husband is just hovering a bit,” she said, smiling awkwardly. Mavra grinned and squeezed her hands.

“Undoubtedly. Of course you are fine. But we should cherish these moments. The subtle times when our loved ones prove to us that we are valued.” She released Sarah’s hands and turned to the table, pouring herself a drink like she owned the place. Oh. Wait. 

Sarah took a step to the side to give her more room. Then she caught her reflection in the mirror, and almost died. As anticipated, her hair was a fucking atrocity. It was still braided, but had become more of a dreadlock, and tufts were pulled out at her crown every which way. Her makeup was just horrible. Smeared everywhere. But, if only raccoon eyes were the worst of it. No, that prize went to the clay markings. The red dashes that had been on her cheeks. They were crusted and smeared, and the pigment had stained her skin. She looked like the most poorly painted china doll ever made. That, combined with her sweat and alcohol stained space-bikini, did not lend her a very flattering portrait. She swallowed and tried not to acknowledge it. No-one else yet had…

The Mavra, who had been doing more than pouring herself a drink, turned around from the table with a concoction of some sort. She dipped two of her fingers into it and then held her hand up to Sarah. There was black goo on her fingers. What the hell was that for?

“Shall we get started?” 

“Um...yeah. Of course,” Sarah said, and stood awkwardly. Mavra gave her a soft smile, and stepped towards her. She reached out and pressed a wet dot to the center of her forehead. 

“I see our King has already lessened your ailment. That was kind of him,” she said, picking up on Jareth’s power signature immediately. Sarah blinked in a look of panic.

“King? You...you know who we are?” she asked, darting her eyes left and right as she stood perfectly still. The Mavra looked down, and placed a dot over her sternum. Sarah did not see, but she was trying not to laugh.

“The dots were not hard to connect, dear. With you proclaiming your title left and right…”

Oh. Sarah felt her cheeks enflame to a torrid degree as another surge of embarrassment hit her. Great. Another thing she couldn’t remember. She could just picture herself...toppling over a log and screaming ‘Hail to the Queen!’. 

“Um. Sorry...if I was obnoxious. I uh...don’t drink very often,” she said, tensing her arms at her sides as the woman placed dots at both her shoulders and the inside of her elbows. 

“The Goblin Queen apologizing to an Alvari Mavra? My, what a gift,” she said, never breaking stride as her eyes followed her hands attentively. She was looking over Sarah’s stomach now, and placed a dot just above her navel. And then the Mavra paused. She stared for a moment, inspecting intently, and then placed a second dot lower on her stomach.

“Jareth has a lot of respect for your people. So do I,” she said, trying to sound regal and not like the half-cocked teenager she actually was. The Mavra smiled but said nothing right away, and merely kneeled down to place dots over her thighs and then feet. 

“My people are forever indebted to The King. Because of him we are safe to worship Alvra. We are safe to spread the true wisdom to the people of this land. I am honored Alvra chose our clan to host you. And I am honored you enjoyed our mead.” She stood, and gave Sarah a wink. The blush renewed. Damn. Even their high priestess was a rascal. Sarah, not knowing if she was supposed to do anything with all these dots on her, jittered on her toes. 

Mavra turned away and placed the cup back on the table. She seemed very relaxed, and took her time in turning back to face them. Sarah figured that meant she wasn’t dying. 

“As expected, you are both perfectly well,” she said, and wiped the dark sludge from her hands. Sarah, absently wondering how exactly those black dots had brought her to such a determination, flinched when the words finally caught up with her.

“Um. Both?” Sarah asked, confused. The Mavra paused and looked up, locking onto Sarah’s gaze with something she had no hope to discern. The old woman pursed her lips and cocked her head to one side. 

“Yes. Your child. It remains healthy as well. Were...you not aware?”

The relief Sarah might have felt instead turned into a horrible, incorrigible, disgusting, panic-fueled torrent that wretched itself clear out of her chest and went all the way to hell and back as shock, total, violent, shock, sent her heart pounding brutally against her ribs. She stood there, petrified, wrenched out of body, while Mariella started to giggle and jump wildly in the background. No. No that wasn’t possible. She must have misheard her. There was no fucking way...

Trying her best to blink terror into a manageable state of denial, Sarah gnawed on her lower lip as she very politely asked,

“Um...what?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N- Oh, ho-ho dear reader. WHAT? I know it's cliche, but whatever I don't care. Some of you detectives might have picked up on preggo hints from way back in chapter...21? I think? Somewhere around there... O.O Anyway...how did this happen? Isn't Sarah on magic faerie birth control?? Whatever will she do??? Find out the answers to these questions, and more, in the next installment of A Twisting Heart And Mind. ;]  
P.S. Yes, the Banthas are from Star Wars. They've been present in the story for a long time now, but this is the first instance I've actually named them. ;)


End file.
